Your First Pheasant

BritChaser

BritChaser

Well-known member
What are the details of the first pheasant you ever shot? Where was it and who were you with? I was living with an uncle who grew up on farms in Republic County, Kansas, and hunted his whole life. Grandpa was living on a farm there and we went up to pheasant hunt for my first time. I was 12. I carried my uncle's old single shot .410. We left Grandpa's house on foot, walked west across the road, and took a line west along an old hedge row. In a few minutes I took my first shot at a pheasant and bagged it. What a thrill, and it still is 50 years later.
 
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I was doing chores in the barn. My oldest brother had a 22 handy for when pheasants would come to the manure pile other critters to. Today he was off doing something else. I guess I was 8-9 or so and could shoot the 22 purty well, took a bead on a rooster fired and he flopped around a bit a lay still.
Some tough Winters back then and lots of pheasants feed in the barnyards.
 
I was given credit for killing a bird with my Mod. 37 .410 when I was ten, 1958. We were road hunting after walking some fields and a number of birds bailed out of the ditch and I shot at one. My Dad was asking who shot at what and concluded I got the bird. Gave it to my Grandpa in St. Paul a smy "first bird". The one I remember more vividly was early the following season. My father had dropped me off at a shelterbelt and I walked to the end where a pile of willows were up against the fenceline. A rooster flushed out of the middle of them and went straight up to the top and I dropped him cleanly. It was a beautiful Oct. day and I still remember the bird framed against the blue sky, just above the top of the willows.
 
awesome thread never will forget north of maryville mo my dad who i wish was still here was to my left down close to a creek and i was just above him out of sight rooster come running up not flying running he got a dose of 12 guage wow thats a long time ago as i sit here and try to calculate the years 27 years ago lol remeber it like yesterday i was 18 i am an old goat pitiful:confused:
 
My first pheasant was back in the mid 70's. My dad did not hunt but the neighbor across the street like to hunt ducks and pheasants. But his lab was only good for less than an hour on dry land, a lot overweight.

So he asked if I would like to go with him and take me Irish setter. So off we went. I shot a mallard and a goose in the morning. Then we went after some pheasants and quail. Penny my Irish pointed a covey of quail. We went after the singles, and I walked up on a point expecting a quail when a rooster came up between my feet.

I killed it after wetting myself, and watched my dog prance around us with that rooster :D
 
Ya stumped me. I can't remember for some reason.:eek: I do remember shooting a shot gun the first time. 20 gage the old man and his buddy let me shoot at a can during a gravel road tour. Knocked me right on my ars. I think I was 10 or so LOL.
 
Southern MN I was 12. We pushed a field with my dad and his friends. There was one black lab there that the guy never quit yelling and blowing his whistle at. When we reached the end of the field at the dirt road one ran up and over to the other side. I ground pounded him with a piece of junk semi-auto that you didn't dare put more then one shell in unless you were prepared to tear it apart to get the second shell out of it.:cheers:
 
Well let's see. I was 21 and my brother and I were hunting on a NWR about an hour west of my house. It was the second weekend of the season and my dog JP's first wild pheasant hunt. JP jumped a rooster about 5 mins out of the parking lot that my brother and I both wiffed on.:mad: Now this is heavily pressured land with few pheasants and I thought terrible about missing JP's first (and I thought only) wild rooster.:(

We kept hunting, flushing a few hens along the way and then it happened. Pushing a strip of cover towards a wooded slough when JP puts up a rooster about 15yds in front. He climbed high to clear the cotton woods of the slough and my brother dropped him for JP who quickly gathered him up for a retrieve to hand.:)

I was glad JP got his bird and I figured that would be it but about 15mins later hugging that same slough JP went into a heavily wooded area and pushed a rooster out for a hard crossing left to right which I connected on! Success, 3 first birds in one day. I'll never forget holding that bird and being so proud of my dog and his amazing abilities (which I take no credit for).

When we checked out at the ranger station they couldn't believe we bagged 2 roosters (2 of 3 bagged by 30 some hunters that day) and were truly amazed that a rookie dog put up 3 roosters.
 
I was 15yo when I finally got one of the pretty birds; killed quail with my 410, but the roosters prooved more elusive in my youth. I shot at several from 8-15, but I don't really remember being the only shooter on any of them.

Anyway, we were quail hunting on the back of a pond dam (CRP) near Emporia, KS. My 2yo GSP/Brit cross went on point on top of the dam and held firm until I got there. The big purdy bastage scared the crud outta me as he flushed at my feet toward the water. I got my bearings on the 2nd or 3rd shot (who's counting?) while he was pushing 40 yards and he fell with a broken wing. In my arms was my trusty Remington 870-20g. I dumped my shells from the magazine and me and the pup were sprinting full speed down the dam and to the spot where he fell. Several minutes of the dog following a trail then I heard wings beating and knew MY dog had found MY bird. Gents, it was and still is a big deal;-)

Good thinkin' on the thread BC! Glad I got to relive that moment I spent with the "best" K9 companion I ever had:)
 
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I believe it was 1990 when I shot my first rooster. I had hunted small game in MO as a kid and had gotten invited to West KS to hunt pheasants by my then boss named JT at the bar I worked at in Westport. I hunted all season without getting a shot until mid January. It was a cold snowy Thursday afternoon and we when to JT's farm in Valley Falls. We had his dog Pix and Coco and had walked all but one patch by some milo. We were just at the tip of a draw when he busted! I pull up the Mossberg( elcto choke bought at the pawn shop) and let it rip. My shot connected and the rooster fell dead on the snow ground. That day changed my life!
I am now in my 25th year of hunting with JT and am on my 2nd set of Britts and Labs. I remember it like it was yesterday! :thumbsup

Thanks JT for taking a new guy pheasant hunting!:cheers:
I'm the guy in the Camo with JT and his son. SD 2006

Kick'em up
 
It was either 1986 or 1987 on state game land #242 in Pennsylvania. I was hunting with my rabbit hunting buddy and we had a pack of beagles hunting in a big thicket. I heard my 2 dogs jump what I thought was a rabbit and then the other dogs joined in. I could tell which direction they were headed and I ran to get ahead of them at the end of the thicket. When they got within about 20-25 yds. of me I heard the rooster cackle and up he came. I nailed him with one shot from my left handed 1100. He has been residing on my garage wall since then.
 
I was 15 I think. We were on a friends property pushing a fence row that widened into a grassy water-way and eventually became a wooded creek bed. I was closest to the woods on one side. The dogs got birdy, but moved away towards their owners. A few moments later a rooster flushed next to me hugging the woods. My first shot broke a wing and he went down and ran into the woods. I was afraid he'd get away since there were no dogs near by, so I chased him into the woods and shot him again under a thicket and he fell into the creek bed. By now my dad was coming with his dog as I "charged into the creek bed" to make sure the bird was finished. First bird was a self retrieve haha :)
 
1971, my second year of hunting, on opening day in Fayette County, PA.

PA had wild birds in abundance. I was hunting with my Dad on Uncle Jim's farm. Dad had passed up several opportunities trying to "get me a bird". After dinner and some ribbing by Uncle Jim with regards to my lack of talent with a shotgun we crossed the road from the farm house. Dad's springer Sandy started to make game and I was told to "get ready"!

Up went the bird cackling along the edge of a picked cornfield. Somehow my aim with my 20 gauge Winchester model 37 was true and down it came. I ran to find it, after a few seconds Sandy had it and I grabbed it and took off to show Uncle Jim.

I will never forget that day!
 
It was 1968, Thanksgiving Day, Woodbridge NJ.,light snow coming down. I was following his tracks in the snow, then the flush and shot! I have that bird mounted,that was a lot for my dad to due back then, we were living pay check to pay check, but he knew what it meant to me!
 
Some great stories guys, keep them coming.:cheers:
 
I hunted ducks and geese with my grandfather when I was a kid, but I got my first pheasant only 3 years ago (at age 55) thanks to my Duck Tolling Retriever, Bridie. I bought her as a pet but she comes from a hunting line and she clearly wanted to go out after birds -- I took her to a retriever training class, and she just started to scream, as Tollers will when they are really excited. Anyhow, a friend from that class took Bridie and me to a preserve in Rhode Island. My friend's Golden found, flushed and retrieved a couple of birds very neatly, then we turned Bridie loose. She was still learning to hunt close and I missed a couple of long shots. But then, she put up a rooster along a woods road and I killed it with a snap shot. Bridie didn't want to pick the bird up -- she tried rolling it back to me with her nose. I thought my friend would die laughing -- I still hear about my "Duck Rolling Retriever".
 
My first bird was a rooster in a field that the old timers used to call the " big draw". We walked it every year. It was a mixture of steep ravines, plum thickets and thick grass with evergreens. Coming down one of those ravines, I dropped my first bird in the middle of one of those nasty plum thickets. After getting on all fours to get him out I was pretty proud. ( i wish i had a lab:D) I must have been 13 or 14. I managed another bird towards the end of that field in the grass. Funny story, i didn't wring the second ones neck well, and he kicked the first one out. I ended up having to go back in the field fifty or sixty yards to find it.
 
How about the first one I had an opportunity to shoot? Dad borrowed a bolt-action .410. I was ten. Dad's Springer, Duke flushed a big Rooster right in front of me. As Dad related the story, he said it was beautiful . . . superb dog work, pretty flush, big mature bird, cackles galore . . . little Jimmy raised the gun, flipped-off the safety, swung on the bird . . . and watched it fly away without touching the trigger. I've been hooked ever since . . .
 
The first Saturday of May is our Opening Day...my first Opening Day dawned overcast and very cold but it was Opening Day and I had my young bitch eager to go...I parked the ute, and we headed off up the river...all over the place I could hear the duck shooters up and down the river and was wondering if we would even see a rooster...

At noon, we stopped for lunch...I always take some soft biscuits for the dogs as I feel I cannot have a drink or two from the thermos and a piece of fruit cake without them having something. So we turned back and started the walk back to the ute...as the sun dropped behind the hills, the mist from the river swirled through the willows, and settled on my shoulders like a cold blanket...my bitch suddenly stopped in her tracks, and I whispered for her to find the bird find the bird...we did a long walk in on the bird, it was her first point on a pheasant and my first attempt; the gun had no weight, but found the shoulder...I asked her to move up, a big splash of colour, a tentral of cordite swirling in the damp air, the bird was down and my bitch was picking it up...her retrieve would not have won points, but to me she was a champion!!! Once the pulse rate had collected itself, I had a good look around the location and discovered that the bird had been eating the windfall fruit of an old gnarled apple tree...I later found his crop was bulging with fruit...
After hanging the bird for two days, I plucked the beautiful feathers and cooked the meat with braised apples, Calvados apple brandy and cream. My little girl got some of the sauce...we have been looking for these beautiful birds ever since...
 
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White Lake, South Dakota, in October of 1972. Hunting on my grandad's farm with my dad and brother, along with a group of uncles and cousins, during the annual opening-weekend family hunt. I was walking a fenceline during a drive of a quarter-section field, and a rooster got up in the middle of the field and came my way. Three or four others in the party took pokes at it and missed, before it got to me. I was using my Dad's old JC Higgins bolt-action 16, and dropped the bird in front of the crowd of fifteen or so relatives. Lots of back-slapping at the end of the field. I don't think I quit grinning until the middle of the next week.

My grandfather and several of the uncles present that day are gone now, but I still have the JC Higgins, and try to hunt with it at least one time each fall. An uncle farms that ground now, so I still hunt it occasionally, and I replay that day all those years ago each time I do. A great memory.....
 
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