Last week, I only bagged 13 birds in 5 days on public land in South Dakota. I have done some serious soul searching, as a result. What can I do to reach that upper echelon of rooster royalty? What more can I possibly do to hold court with the likes of @A5 Sweet 16 and @Golden Hour? Do I throw in the towel and retire from pheasant hunting?
I think I might have the solution. I can't make any guarantees, but I have a plan. I opened a late arriving birthday gift, and my clouded vision came into focus. The problem was clear. It wasn't what I was doing, it was who I was being. I can't just go pheasant hunting, I have to *be* a pheasant hunter.
Some would say you are what you eat. My purine intake and uric acid levels are probably already off the chart. So it can't be that. I am reminded of the saying, the clothes make the man. That must be my missing ingredient to the recipe that leads to the fabled pheasant nirvana.
This deficiency stops here and now! The evening before every hunt, the rest of January, I shall make myself into a new man by donning the final piece of the puzzle:
I think I might have the solution. I can't make any guarantees, but I have a plan. I opened a late arriving birthday gift, and my clouded vision came into focus. The problem was clear. It wasn't what I was doing, it was who I was being. I can't just go pheasant hunting, I have to *be* a pheasant hunter.
Some would say you are what you eat. My purine intake and uric acid levels are probably already off the chart. So it can't be that. I am reminded of the saying, the clothes make the man. That must be my missing ingredient to the recipe that leads to the fabled pheasant nirvana.
This deficiency stops here and now! The evening before every hunt, the rest of January, I shall make myself into a new man by donning the final piece of the puzzle: