Take a step back and realize what you've got

[Bob Peters]

I don't know where to start. I've been pheasant hunting about 5 years seriously. I didn't grow up hunting, my dad sold all his guns when he went to college. My grandpas both hunted but it was mostly before I was alive. I'm sure they had it great. On my dad's side Grandpa grew up on a farm, they grew corn and sorghum. His mom would tell him to go and get some pheasants for dinner, and he would. On my moms side, I'm still lucky enough to be able to hunt some of the land she grew up on. Her dad and uncles would go out and hunt up a pile of birds. By the time I ever toted a shotgun one had passed the other was very old. If either were still around I would drive to their house tomorrow and ask them about hunting, to hear their stories of the old days. Where they hunted, what they saw, how they cooked their birds, all of it. Things are so quickly forgotten or swept away by the passing of time. Talking to my uncle he told me that his dad(my grandpa) would just raise the gun so fast and the bird would fall down. I'm not bragging on my grandpa as a sharpshooter, because I wasn't there, but I love to hear these old stories. And my uncle would tell me how the old timers in his day would say how many birds there were. Those dirty fields, ditches, waterways and wetlands were lousy with roosters. The classic stories of walking into a cover and having pheasants blacken the sky. How much is hyperbole and how much is truth I don't know. I feel lucky that my uncle lets me hunt his ground, and that he does his best to make good cover for wildlife. He has 80 acres on which he lives. Slough and CRP grass. He does burns, sprays buckthorn, plants a food plot or two. He traps off and on to thin the predators. When I first got in to pheasant hunting he took me out and I'll never forget him yelling, "ROOSTER, SHOOT SHOOT SHOOT!" I missed that bird, but sometimes it's the experience that means more than anything. At least I can say I got out with his black lab the next year and managed to knock one down that his dog retrieved for me. I'll never forget that. She's too old to hunt now, but is still getting along and I love to see her every time I hunt there.

I know at this point I could write a novel. Sometimes I just can't believe I ever got into this. Living in the suburbs, if it weren't for a bunch of happenstance I'd of never had the luck and honor of shooting a wild rooster. I started shooting clays, invited myself along on a duck hunt, and things grew from there. The first entries in my pheasant journal I walked some crp without a dog. Then I kinda invited myself along with a buddy on a pheasant hunt. After that Skye came into my life and it would never be the same. I'll never forget how I took her out hunting, and she was ABSOLUTELY clueless. That being said, I was too. The dog learned at a rate exponentially quicker than I ever could. She learned from the birds, and then taught me how to hunt. It's amazing how a dog getting a late start at 3, takes to it quicker than a human. She's taught me more than anyone else ever could.

I don't mean to be preaching to the choir here. But if you're blessed with being a fellow bird hunter with good opportunities, don't ever take that for granted. Take your kids, other peoples kids, or just other people in general out hunting. I think so often of how easily I could've missed this greatest of outdoor pursuits. On my dad's side it's a very large family, and I can't name one of my cousins who bird hunts. On my mom's side I don't think any of my uncle's grandsons have an interest in hunting. Perhaps I have personal bias here. I've been an avid angler my whole life. Caught walleye over 11 lbs. black bass tipping the scales around 10lbs. and brown trout over 5 lbs. conservatively. As wonderful as all that has been, nothing comes close to working hand in paw with a good bird dog to corner a cagey wild rooster, get him to flush, knock him down and after a great retrieve place him in the game bag. Pheasant hunting is a wonder indescribable with words, but I hope we can carry it forward to the generations that rise before and come after us. This is a great website and I'm thankful for all the knowledge I've gained from the members here. I try to get better every time I hunt, some for me, and mostly for my dog. Please allow me to post a picture.

 

[AKSkeeter]

I retired 5 years ago and am living the dream....enjoying each morning hunting with the dog.
Yesterday I whiffed on a rooster the dog pinned down at the creek edge, but the dog had fun!

The sights I see amaze me.
Yesterday I was within 10 meters of 3 otters for a minute or 2, saw hundreds of geese and swans flying overhead,
and saw the biggest red fox I've ever seen.

Plus a great crisp morning of good exercise.
Because of the exercise involved (I put in 6 miles, the dog probably 3 times that) my healthy lifespan has likely been extended.
I'm 68 years old and hope to continue as long as possible.

 

[wingsnfins]

Good words, especially during the Holiday season, to make time to appreciate what and who we have more than ever, to remind ourselves to cherish it all year round.

I'm 49 years old, grew up hunting, fishing, listening, learning from my 2 grandfathers and my father.
I lost one of those grandfathers to cancer when I was 8, he was in his mid 50s. I lost my father to cancer when I was 23, he was in his late 50s. 3 months after my dad passed, I lost my other grandfather, he was in his mid 90s. None of them ever got to see me "grow up" and build a career and a life. I still hunt with a gun of each of theirs' at least once a year for them.

In my career, I've seen tragedy at its randomness and it's fallout. I've shown up at more doors with a chaplain than I care to recount.

The time outdoors, especially when it is just me and the dogs I've had through the years, is my peace. I often find myself daydreaming a bit about the past......

Don't ever take anything for granted, it can all be gone in the blink of eye.