KBell
New member
You know from my previous post that I was solo on Saturday. I went to a public 220 plus acre plot with Sophie. Today was dinner with the relatives so no hunting on Sunday.
As I sat in the pickup waiting for 8 a.m. I saw several deer moving around the edges of the cover chasing does. You can tell--especially on my drive home, that the rut in Iowa is in full swing. I know I saw 100+ deer on my drive Saturday. I had time to reminisce about past deer hunts, bird hunts and hunting in general.
At ten to eight, a pickup pulled up along side me in the parking lot. I watched a father and son get out and start to gather their gear. At eight, I unloaded sophie, attached her collar and assembled myself what should have been a promising hunt. Much corn had been removed by Thursday from the surroundings of this public plot.
The father walked over and asked me if I was alone today. I said yes. He asked me if I had bird hunted before and I also replied yes. He said his son was new to hunting and that they didn't have a dog. After a little back and forth, he invited me to hunt with them.
We began on a diagonal from the parking lot. After approximately 20 yards, a very young "squeaker"--I like to call them that for their lack of cackling ability, took off at an angle from the boy. He raised, followed and click--no shell in the gun.
I watched his father who said--it's okay there will be more. The boy looked at me, didn't say a word and silently dropped his head. We adjusted to the flight of the bird and continued on.
We "combed" that area for several hours. Sophie had two "false" points, flushed a hawk from the switchgrass and "pinned" a young of the year raccoon in the big bluestem. All during this time we shared of sports, girls, guns and hunting adventures that we all had experienced. We did not flush or encounter another bird.
At noon the truck offered a Sprite and energy bar that was too much to resist. I watched the boy overheard him say to his dad that Iowa-Michigan State was on and that they could "catch" the fourth quarter if they left now.
Bill, the father thanked me for the companionship and started to leave. I asked Bill if I could talk to his son. What I said amounted to this--I was proud of his hunting behavior when he missed on the rooster, the fact that he continued hunting and that there were no excuses or rants. I also shared the challenges we all face this year as upland bird hunters and that hopefully brighter days are ahead for all of us. I extended my hand to Todd and shared that I would hunt with a young man like him anytime. That smile was worth any limit I have ever taken.
I do not have a bird to savor on Monday night during the Vikings-Packers game. I do have the memory of Bill and Todd that reminds me I do not have to limit or even fire a shot to have a great day in the field hunting Iowa pheasants.
As I sat in the pickup waiting for 8 a.m. I saw several deer moving around the edges of the cover chasing does. You can tell--especially on my drive home, that the rut in Iowa is in full swing. I know I saw 100+ deer on my drive Saturday. I had time to reminisce about past deer hunts, bird hunts and hunting in general.
At ten to eight, a pickup pulled up along side me in the parking lot. I watched a father and son get out and start to gather their gear. At eight, I unloaded sophie, attached her collar and assembled myself what should have been a promising hunt. Much corn had been removed by Thursday from the surroundings of this public plot.
The father walked over and asked me if I was alone today. I said yes. He asked me if I had bird hunted before and I also replied yes. He said his son was new to hunting and that they didn't have a dog. After a little back and forth, he invited me to hunt with them.
We began on a diagonal from the parking lot. After approximately 20 yards, a very young "squeaker"--I like to call them that for their lack of cackling ability, took off at an angle from the boy. He raised, followed and click--no shell in the gun.
I watched his father who said--it's okay there will be more. The boy looked at me, didn't say a word and silently dropped his head. We adjusted to the flight of the bird and continued on.
We "combed" that area for several hours. Sophie had two "false" points, flushed a hawk from the switchgrass and "pinned" a young of the year raccoon in the big bluestem. All during this time we shared of sports, girls, guns and hunting adventures that we all had experienced. We did not flush or encounter another bird.
At noon the truck offered a Sprite and energy bar that was too much to resist. I watched the boy overheard him say to his dad that Iowa-Michigan State was on and that they could "catch" the fourth quarter if they left now.
Bill, the father thanked me for the companionship and started to leave. I asked Bill if I could talk to his son. What I said amounted to this--I was proud of his hunting behavior when he missed on the rooster, the fact that he continued hunting and that there were no excuses or rants. I also shared the challenges we all face this year as upland bird hunters and that hopefully brighter days are ahead for all of us. I extended my hand to Todd and shared that I would hunt with a young man like him anytime. That smile was worth any limit I have ever taken.
I do not have a bird to savor on Monday night during the Vikings-Packers game. I do have the memory of Bill and Todd that reminds me I do not have to limit or even fire a shot to have a great day in the field hunting Iowa pheasants.
