pheasantaddict
New member
After Johnny and I had our first hunt of the year my new best friends, the Jones boys, invited us to hunt at their pheasant preserve. I had always known about the Jones boys but had never really gotten to know them. There are 4 boys. The oldest, Jebb Jr., is a U.S. senator. Then there's Gees, Gee-money, and Jeepers, they are identical triplets. Gees is a football coach at the state university. Gee-money is a banker in the city and Jeepers helps his dad, Jebb Sr., run the farm and the hunting preserve. I know you're wondering how'd these boys get such crazy names? Well one day when Jebb Sr. came in from doing chores at 7:30 am, the exact same time he came in every morning, he found his wife was gone and Jebb Jr. was all by himself. Jebb asked Jebb, " Where in the world is your ma?!" and Jebb replied, "At the hospital pa!" Jebb Sr. sped to the hospital, ran to his wife's room, and upon arrival was greeted by a nurse asking him, "What would you like to name your three baby boys?" to which Jebb blurted out, "Gees, Gee-money, Jeepers!!!" Since Jebb is a man of his word, well you know the rest. I'm not sure if Jebb was flabbergasted at the fact his breakfast wasn't ready at 7:30 that morning or that he had no idea his wife was pregnant. The whole county knew them boys when they were growing up, and even people in the big city too. People were always talking about those triplets, "Gees, he sure is fast." "Gee-money, he sure can reckon" "Jeepers, that boy can shoot."
Johnny and I met the brothers at the lodge that day. Jebb Jr. told me that I didn't have to bring anything for the hunt except Johnny. Soon after, I wondered where were all their prized hunting dogs? Gees said they didn't need dogs anymore and that they'd discovered the future of pheasant hunting. They had combined techniques from deer and coyote hunting, duck research, 4 wheel driving, and metal fabrication. The boys then explained in detail how we were going to hunt. The CRP fields had been paved into 4 strips, 80 yds apart with a pick-up parked on each one. A gigantic log chain was threaded through the back end of each truck connecting all 4 so it could be drug through the field between the strips. A fully automatic shotgun, that looked liked a cannon, was mounted in the middle of the truck bed and could be shot in a 360 degree radius. There were 10,000 rounds of ammo secured in the bed with a direct feed to the gun. CBs were used to tell the drivers whether to speed up, slow down, or stop. The shooters wore full body armor to protect them from the pellets. A shooter could easily drop and effectively kill a bird 40 yds from the gun with a 25,600 sq yd target area referred to as the "Dead Zone". Just one word came to my mind AWESOME! I snickered to Gees that Johnny couldn't handle that big gun, and told him how Johnny could barely lift his wimpy 20 ga. Gees said he had something that would help Johnny get a lot stronger. It was called "juice". He said something about side effects, but all I heard was that his entire football team used it. In fact Gees had some on hand. I told Johnny to drop his drawers and inject that "juice" into his buttocks. About that time, Jeepers showed up wearing a big pheasant suit and carrying a case of beer under each wing. He said he wears the suit because he likes to embody the animals he hunts. At the time, I thought this might not be such a good idea. I certainly wouldn't want to go deer hunting with him. Everyone was having a good old time, when I noticed Johnny wasn't drinking. I explained that this was a "Party Hunt" and made him shotgun a six pack. When we arrived at the CRP fields, Johnny could barely stand and began to throw up. It must have been one of those side effects from the "juice". Johnny was in no shape to shoot even the Jones boys agreed. I, Jebb Jr., Jeepers, and Gees were the shooters and got in the back of the trucks. The hunt was on. Let me tell ya 10,000 rounds goes a lot faster than you would think with a gun like that. The best part about hunting at a preserve is you don't have to distinguish between hens and roosters which I prefer because I just hate wasting time on thinking. The lodge's motto is "If It Flies It Dies" and I couldn't agree more. By the end of the hunt us boys and the trucks looked like we had been tarred and feathered. All that blood and guts from pulverizing those birds made the feathers stick like glue; however, the boys were prepared for that and had a great big fan to clean us off. Jebb Jr. and Jeepers tied with a 1,000 birds a piece. Gees got 950. I got 900. They were all wild birds, half roosters and half hens. Not a bad mornings hunt I thought and then I could no longer contain myself, I began to sob like a little girl. I was now a part of pheasant hunting history. I never wanted Johnny to see me cry, but maybe he didn't because his eyes were rolling in the back of his head. We were leaving the field, when I mentioned to Gee-money "How are we ever gonna pick up all those birds?" Just then I saw the biggest darn end loader I had ever seen. The bucket was 40 yds wide and 10 yds tall! He said they hired a guy from Iowa to take care of that.
On the way back, Jebb Jr. and Jeepers sat in the truck beds to" Road Hunt" so they could break their tie. Jebb Jr. was in the back of the lead truck driven by Gees. The second truck was driven by a farm hand and the third truck was driven by Gee-money with Jeepers in the back. I was in the cab of the lead truck and we were flying down the gravel road one after another. Now if the CBs would have just been turned off, a series of unfortunate events would never have unfolded. As fate would have it, when that boy from Iowa brought up the big bucket of his end loader, he screamed with delight "Gees, Gee-Money, Jeepers look at all those bleeping birds! When that phrase came over the CB, Gees slammed on his brakes to see where the hell all those birds were. The farm hand slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting Gees. Then Gee-money got so excited he hit the gas instead of the brakes. Upon impact with the second truck Jeepers flew out the back and went flying through the air towards Jebb Jr.. Unfortunately he would have flown a lot further had Jebb Jr. not shot and dropped him dead. In defense of Jebb Jr., he did look like the biggest darn rooster you'd ever seen and the metal of the trucks crunching together did make a weird cackling sound. A rooster that size would have won all the tail feather contests ever hands down! All the boys agreed that it was an honest mistake. The DNR showed up and started making a big fuss. The Jones boys had to close down the preserve but I think it's because the DNR is just jealous about all the birds we shot that day. All this would have been avoided if it had just happened on the preserve. On the preserve you can shoot anything and anyone you want. The remaining Jones boys are planning a memorial "Road Hunt" for Jeepers after the funeral and I got invited "Sweet!". I'll tell ya more about the road hunt but the old lady's nagging at me to take out the trash and scoop the driveway. Hope you enjoy the story.
Johnny and I met the brothers at the lodge that day. Jebb Jr. told me that I didn't have to bring anything for the hunt except Johnny. Soon after, I wondered where were all their prized hunting dogs? Gees said they didn't need dogs anymore and that they'd discovered the future of pheasant hunting. They had combined techniques from deer and coyote hunting, duck research, 4 wheel driving, and metal fabrication. The boys then explained in detail how we were going to hunt. The CRP fields had been paved into 4 strips, 80 yds apart with a pick-up parked on each one. A gigantic log chain was threaded through the back end of each truck connecting all 4 so it could be drug through the field between the strips. A fully automatic shotgun, that looked liked a cannon, was mounted in the middle of the truck bed and could be shot in a 360 degree radius. There were 10,000 rounds of ammo secured in the bed with a direct feed to the gun. CBs were used to tell the drivers whether to speed up, slow down, or stop. The shooters wore full body armor to protect them from the pellets. A shooter could easily drop and effectively kill a bird 40 yds from the gun with a 25,600 sq yd target area referred to as the "Dead Zone". Just one word came to my mind AWESOME! I snickered to Gees that Johnny couldn't handle that big gun, and told him how Johnny could barely lift his wimpy 20 ga. Gees said he had something that would help Johnny get a lot stronger. It was called "juice". He said something about side effects, but all I heard was that his entire football team used it. In fact Gees had some on hand. I told Johnny to drop his drawers and inject that "juice" into his buttocks. About that time, Jeepers showed up wearing a big pheasant suit and carrying a case of beer under each wing. He said he wears the suit because he likes to embody the animals he hunts. At the time, I thought this might not be such a good idea. I certainly wouldn't want to go deer hunting with him. Everyone was having a good old time, when I noticed Johnny wasn't drinking. I explained that this was a "Party Hunt" and made him shotgun a six pack. When we arrived at the CRP fields, Johnny could barely stand and began to throw up. It must have been one of those side effects from the "juice". Johnny was in no shape to shoot even the Jones boys agreed. I, Jebb Jr., Jeepers, and Gees were the shooters and got in the back of the trucks. The hunt was on. Let me tell ya 10,000 rounds goes a lot faster than you would think with a gun like that. The best part about hunting at a preserve is you don't have to distinguish between hens and roosters which I prefer because I just hate wasting time on thinking. The lodge's motto is "If It Flies It Dies" and I couldn't agree more. By the end of the hunt us boys and the trucks looked like we had been tarred and feathered. All that blood and guts from pulverizing those birds made the feathers stick like glue; however, the boys were prepared for that and had a great big fan to clean us off. Jebb Jr. and Jeepers tied with a 1,000 birds a piece. Gees got 950. I got 900. They were all wild birds, half roosters and half hens. Not a bad mornings hunt I thought and then I could no longer contain myself, I began to sob like a little girl. I was now a part of pheasant hunting history. I never wanted Johnny to see me cry, but maybe he didn't because his eyes were rolling in the back of his head. We were leaving the field, when I mentioned to Gee-money "How are we ever gonna pick up all those birds?" Just then I saw the biggest darn end loader I had ever seen. The bucket was 40 yds wide and 10 yds tall! He said they hired a guy from Iowa to take care of that.
On the way back, Jebb Jr. and Jeepers sat in the truck beds to" Road Hunt" so they could break their tie. Jebb Jr. was in the back of the lead truck driven by Gees. The second truck was driven by a farm hand and the third truck was driven by Gee-money with Jeepers in the back. I was in the cab of the lead truck and we were flying down the gravel road one after another. Now if the CBs would have just been turned off, a series of unfortunate events would never have unfolded. As fate would have it, when that boy from Iowa brought up the big bucket of his end loader, he screamed with delight "Gees, Gee-Money, Jeepers look at all those bleeping birds! When that phrase came over the CB, Gees slammed on his brakes to see where the hell all those birds were. The farm hand slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting Gees. Then Gee-money got so excited he hit the gas instead of the brakes. Upon impact with the second truck Jeepers flew out the back and went flying through the air towards Jebb Jr.. Unfortunately he would have flown a lot further had Jebb Jr. not shot and dropped him dead. In defense of Jebb Jr., he did look like the biggest darn rooster you'd ever seen and the metal of the trucks crunching together did make a weird cackling sound. A rooster that size would have won all the tail feather contests ever hands down! All the boys agreed that it was an honest mistake. The DNR showed up and started making a big fuss. The Jones boys had to close down the preserve but I think it's because the DNR is just jealous about all the birds we shot that day. All this would have been avoided if it had just happened on the preserve. On the preserve you can shoot anything and anyone you want. The remaining Jones boys are planning a memorial "Road Hunt" for Jeepers after the funeral and I got invited "Sweet!". I'll tell ya more about the road hunt but the old lady's nagging at me to take out the trash and scoop the driveway. Hope you enjoy the story.
