What do you most remember, misses or hits?

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Daisybuck

New member
Since there's not much to do right now except keep the dogs in shape and make plans for trips in the fall, I find myself replaying some of the greatest hits of last year. But it seems the scenes in my mid's eye that are most common are the missed shots.

Anyone else? Do you recall your hits or misses most vividly?
 
Probably the misses, especially multiple barrels misses....often those are the ones that are remembered for me as well.:)
But there are times every year when a dishragged bird(s) occurs and that gets it's share of self-focused and often undeserved highlighted attention.
What I hate to recall are the occassional wounded birds....I can enter a field or a covert and instantly recall "Oh yea, that was here."
I am trying to reach a point when any of the three encounters are brought to mind based upon a value comparative to the total day....that is slow in coming.
 
Misses?! What misses? LOL. :p
 
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At your request, I hearkened back to what I remember most...and oddly, it is not the hits or misses.

It has always been the dog work for me. Stunning sometimes, artful upon occasion, and absolutely ridiculous at others...the wirehairs I've had have etched images that will stay with me...as long as I can remember things.

Hope this doesn't count as thread veer, but the shots kind of go away.
 
Good thread. You got me thinking back to some good memories.;)

It seems my memories have more to do with moments out in the fields when the sun is going down, roosters are gliding in for the roost on a calm autumn evening with the sounds of combines harvesting corn in the distant background. Air starts to get heavy and cool. No cars, no trucks, phones, etc. Just peace.

The beat of pheasant wings as they flush. The red and orange rays of the evening sun reflecting radiantly off their feathers. Late season long tails waiving as if saying "good by". If you don't hit him and knock him down, you've only got a couple seconds to admire his beauty during the flush. You'll never see him again.

Dropping a bird in the snow, picking him up, and suddenly remember how absolutely beautiful this bird is, then it hits you; "how the heck does such a colorful bird blend in so well with it's background".

Some of these sites and moments have been so beautiful at times I've fought to draw my gun. Those birds can be hypnotizing.

The unique fragrance of autumn's decaying leaves, soil, and grass. The sweat fragrance no one has been able to accurately describe.

Ah, like most of you I can go on and on. I'll spare you. lol
 
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I was once a professional writer. These last couple posts have made my efforts small by comparison. I have laughed and been taken into the field beside some folks with whom I'd love to kick some cover. Keep them coming!

And yes, working dogs are a work of art -- be they champions or mutts, pointies or flushers.

I recall one from last year outside a metro area who had eluded what must have been dozens of not hundreds of hunter cackling across the cattails as I watched from behind a very hot, very empty Benelli. I couldn't meet the eyes of the two labs who came out of that awful cover...:eek:
 
For me it is about the saves. You know a bad hit on a bird, never by me but by my hunting partners. The bird flying wounded over the hill, into a cattail slough or running like crazy into the nastiest cover imaginable and the true hero of the hunt goes to work. A little time passes and a few wishful thoughts are uttered and low and behold the trusty dog comes back with the bird. That's what I remember.
 
Neither, I remember the great bird finding work by the dogs. Birds are a bonus, whether a great harvest or a piss poor shooting adventure:D Both seem to happen to everyone any given week. Your on or your off. But the dogs are the ones that do those true amazing things.:thumbsup:
 
I sort of forget about shots made a shots missed. I sure enough remember the frosty mornings and how peaceful it is spending the nights at remote camps. I remember when hunting is good I hold off on that limit bird so I can keep walking and let the pups work. I think watching the dogs and their excitement as they get on sent is tops for me.
I'll always remember this one old rooster last Fall. Star was working this real thick Snowberry, about 10 yards right in front a big old bird comes up, right at me, I could see his eyes, he dove back into the brush and was gone. Star right on his trail for a couple hundred yards then the old rooster flew across the river and to safety. I was OK that he lived.
And I really enjoy studying the habitat and why it holds pheasants. :)
 
Like most people have mentioned, I enjoy and remember the dog work the most. I remember the first year I was able to hunt with both my dogs. I had a chance at a double on a pair of roosters on the edge of some woods. I hit one and thought I hit the other. After working the area for 20 minutes and only finding one bird I moved on. On the way back through, Blitz (his first year hunting) pinned the wounded bird under a tree that my more experienced dog missed. Later that year, both dogs were on point on the edge of a corn field. As I walked up a large group pheasants, about 4 roosters and 5 hens, flushed from the field. This is not something a person gets to see much in Pa. I was not able to take a safe shot but it still made a nice memory.

I remember the first bird last year that both dogs pinned in a field. After making a shot, Blitz was ablt to track him 75 yards through a swamp area to make the retrieve. Blitz was all wet and muddy but very proud, as was I.
 
I remember shots, both hits and misses. I remember sights and smells, wet boots and how much I miss them. I remember dfg checking my birds on days when no one else had birds to check. The dogs tracking roosters for hundreds of yards and thanking god I could make the shot for them. Deer and pigs pushed from cover. But the thing I remember most was hunting new spots and meeting new friends.

One highlight this year was watching my dog get birdy and expecting a quail or pheasant flush only to have a big tom gobbler come up. I doubted for a second and then gave him a 7/8oz load of 7.5s that dropped him stone dead. The look on my dogs face as he went over for the retrieve was priceless.:cheers:
 
You guys this is great! In some of the posts it's like I am right there. And yes, the proudest moments are (if you check some of my early posts) seeing that knot-headed yellow lab swimming in circles in a pothole, dismissing him as crazy while I worked my star, Daisy, where i thought the bird fell. To see that big boy come up and out of that water with his first-ever retrieve, soaked rooster and all. My cheer for that boy is still hanging in the air somewhere south of Marshall, Minn. And having my dad, ``the'' dog guy in my life along? Beyond priceless.

Of course, then there's that rooster in Brown County from last year, big as a Zeppelin going up like a rusty screen door banging off its hinges. Bang, bang, bang... Ol' Buck gave me the stink-eye after that one...

You guys are great storytellers and I mean that in the good sense. :10sign:
 
I wonder sometimes about what the dogs remember. Favorite coverts? Big coveys? I know my dogs remember the desert cactus and the unreal amount of quail who call that hellish cover home.
 
i like when you have been hunting all day havnt done that good dog comes down on point 4 or 5 cocks come up and misfire gotta love fiocchis since ive thrown them out and went to federals LOTSbetter lol what were the odds of that a freaking misfire as your your buddies are laughing there ass off asking how many i got lol
 
How about climbing almost 1000 feet up a steep hill looking for a covey you know is there only to have your dogs bust them and you don't even have any shells in your gun?:eek: Oh yes, I remember that one.:(
 
I remember well last season a shooting slump..... but would rather not talk about it :rolleyes:

But in the middle of that slump I was out west of here hunting pheasants and quail with a group of friends. It was a pretty good hunt, I think everyone shot some birds and all the dogs had points and backs. Near the end of the day we had to make our way back to the trucks. There was a narrow strip of grass grass in a draw running through a large wheat stubble field. It was not big enough for all of us to hunt so I took Ace and headed out into the middle of the stubble field. It had been a long full day of hunting but Ace was still going strong, and before long I look well out front to see him stand on point with the setting sun shining on him. He looked like a million bucks. It took me a while to get to him and when I went out front to flush nothing came up.

So I relocated him. Rather than following the pheasant he swung out to the side and ran hard to the front. At about 100 yards he slammed to a point. I walk to him and then out front, Up came a nice big rooster. I shot, the bird staggered and kept flying. I shot again and it still didn't come down. The freaking easiest shot I have had on a rooster in years :mad:

The bird flew several hundred yards, but in the direction of the trucks. The group got together. The dogs worked the area, and my buddies dog went on point, Ace backed, up came the rooster again, and somebody that could shoot finished the job. :)
 
mnmthunting said:
Star right on his trail for a couple hundred yards then the old rooster flew across the river and to safety. I was OK that he lived.QUOTE]

Wayne, I've found when those long tailed bad boy roosters get away like that it helps to tell myself he's breeding stock for next season's birds. Numbs the pain a bit. lol
Click to expand...
 
I've been hunting that same area for years. I wonder if I didn't dust his rear end last year and that old rooster figured he would be better of running for it.:)

You guys are bringing back memories. You old hands from way back may remember this story it brought on a lot of conversation. Cooper, is 11 (my avatar) years old now and has slowed, but in his prime Cooper was an outstanding athlete.

Anyway Cooper is outfront 20 yards or so, flushes a flashy rooster, strait away shot, I knock him dead. Cooper goes after the bird at a full run, just as he approaches where the bird fell suddenly a rooster flushes right ahead of Cooper. Cooper leaps high, grabs the bird and comes to me with this flapping rooster in his mouth. I wring it's neck and pick the other dead rooster just a few feet ahead. That was fun.
 
For me it is hard to seperate the hits, the misses, because it is all part of the process. I have to agree, the greatest part of all this is the dog work...the only reason most of us do the tail chasin' thang! If you stop to look at all the money we spend preparing... gear, training, vet bills, dog food, vehicle and expenses, shooting clays, the list goes on...we have A LOT invested! Could proabably buy a few freezers full of chickens for the price. But that's not the point. We love our dogs and will do virtually whatever it takes to put them in birds to do what they love. I know people that refuse to shoot clays because they don't believe in throwing lead at a wasted target. When my dogs work their ass off to find and pin down birds, I believe I OWE them to be on top of my game. It would be safe to say that we are the weakest link in the chain of pheasant hunting so I try to do all I can for THEM!
If I had to pick one aspect, the long and hard to find retrieves stand out most. Had two occassions last season, both with Oskar, 7 yr. old gsp. We were hunting some hilly terrain and the boys pinned down a bird in a food plot. The bird got up and headed straight away south towards lower ground. I shot and rocked him on first shot, saw feathers, kept waiting for him to fold(I know some would tell me to shoot again but lead doesn't taste good). I stood there watching...waiting. He finally folded a quarter mile away. I had lost sight and track of my boys in the tall grass...but wait...lo and behold...Oskar appears as he hops the fence, travels another 15 yards then dives in to come out with bird in mouth.
Another occasion had my partner and I pushing a field with 3 dogs, 2 were hot in persuit to my right, Oskar in front. He locked up, rooster flushes straight away, shoot, rocks, feathers, watched, just kept sailing. Never saw him go down. Walked to end of property and came up empty. No place for him to go across the road so we figured he had to be there. Took a break, then came back and hit area again. Nothing. We headed west, got a bird and watched another sail east and marked as he took light. Got over there and watched 2 dogs go crazy pouncing all over, totally comical! Finally this rooster flushes and my partner shoots, down bird. But wait, where's Oskar? We proceed to head north over ground we covered earlier. About 5 minutes later, Oskar appears with dead rooster in mouth! Does it get any better???!!!:10sign:
 
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