BritChaser
Well-known member
So many elements combined to make last weekend's trip to the Happy Hunting Grounds special. My buddy from Iowa remembered the little cafe in the tiny town that you would think should not even have a cafe -- where they have several kinds of homemade pie and homemade ice cream every single day. He marveled at the thick, beef-tasty hamburgers we had for lunch on Saturday and then he had the rum raisin ice cream for dessert. A widow in her 80s I have seen out there for many years was happy to have dinner with us after burying her son who fell to cancer in Texas just weeks ago. The pheasants were spooky and most of them flushed out of range. But the quail held very tight in the thick high weeds of this abundant season. Gus the Brittany would go on point in the thick tall weeds and I would have to coax him to flush the quail so that we had good firing lanes. On one point I bent over to peer through the brush and saw a pair sitting on the ground as if wondering what to do. They made up their minds in two seconds and a dozen flushed all around me. Nature abounded. As we came around a place that we call The Island -- a snarl of cottonwoods, saplings, big plum thickets, weeds and grass in the middle of a crop field -- dozens of loafing turkeys fled, tittering and flying for other cover. I was sure Gus had another point on a quail covey in a plum thicket and I kept imploring him to "Get 'em up!" After about 45 seconds I heard a slight movement in the plum thicket and yelled "Here's the flush!" only to be surprised by a single glorious cock flying for his life, which he gave to my gun. Nature abounded.
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