Opening Day is Coming

Its been:

179 days since the season for quail closed,

220 days since the season for ducks closed, and

227 days since the last season for doves closed.

It's 6 days before the opening day of Dove Season.  Everyone is getting ready.  Wally world has the cheap boxes of shells out, my brother is calling with his plans, fields are being cut and raked for the big event, and the doves have started their annual mocking of me.

It's true, I see more doves flying over vacant lots and sitting on power lines as I drive by.  And for some reason there are an inordinate amount of doves flying over my yard, setting in a tree and for some unknown reason, they seem to be mocking me.

Its like they know the season is coming up, and this is their last chance to get at me before I can talk back.  They seem to be everywhere.  And I believe that the dove perched on the power line outside my window just flipped me the feather.

OK birds, just 6 more days. Enjoy it now, I'll be having the fun on Saturday.

The Poor Boy's Dove Field

It’s been a while since my last post, and it might take days to catch up, but here is the quick synopsis of the plans for this year’s dove field.  I believe I gave some advice that if you don’t have the cash to spend planting and working the perfect field, there are options.  When I was told in April that I would be laid off this summer, those options were my only hope.  So this year, it’s the poor boy’s dove field.

I had tilled the field during the turkey season in hopes of planting sunflower and was trying to figure how much herbicide to put out, when I learned of my bosses’ plans.  When you have to cut back, the expensive field is the easy thing to do.  So we just let it grow, and I figured I’d mow a few strips a couple of times in the summer and just see what happens.

So I did.  Nothing fancy, and there were plenty of grasses and weeds dropping seed.  The first time I looked at the field was late July and we found an early covey of quail at the edge.  A strip was mowed, and we would see what may come.  And to my delight, the news from Johnny that he found dove feeding in the field this past weekend.

We shall see.  Hopefully the open mowed area will draw a few birds in.  If not, it seems the quail will be there for the winter hunts.  Regardless, I know where I’m spending opening day now.

Why We Hunt

The traffic to work is killing me, and the long hours at work tire me out, but still I can’t sleep.  If my son keeps jumping through the house, or my wife tells me one more time about bruise on her foot ….

I’m going hunting

To see what’s in the field

To get away from this

And ignore this

To spend some time with friends and Family

To see some of this

And this

And maybe a little of this

And this

Why we hunt.

A Little Help With My Shooting

A few weeks ago a shot a miserable round of sporting clays (Don't Think, Meat) leaving me wondering why I sometimes shoot so bad in the field.  One thing that helped my recently was to focus down range and look back to the clay or bird as rises.  Perhaps this just keeps me loose, allowing the natural motion and shot to take place.  Or maybe its as they explain in this video.






There are many people I know who don't need this help.  I, on the other hand, need all the advise I can get.

Where's the Covey

Over the weekend, Johnny took us out to hunt a few birds released the week before and then to the wild coveys nearby.  Most of the hunting on his land is over released quail until the wild quail catch up with all the habitat work he's been doing.  So this was indeed a treat.

As we approached a great looking haunt, the dog started to get active.  And then it happened.  But just one bird rose.  We searched and searched for the covey, but with no success.  We figured they were busted up by something else before we got there.  So we headed back to camp and would try this covey again in the morning.

In the morning the dog froze as soon as we arived back to this place.  A good strong point, and we walked in thinking of a great covey rise.  Again, one bird.  Again we searched.  Again we left wondering where's the covey.