Well, I finally took the Borden Parker into my favorite pheasant haunts. I hunted alone but kept in touch with the home front and let my farmer friends know where I was and how long I expected to be there. Just an old guy mitigating risk. I don't hunt alone much any more but definitely prefer just me, the dogs and nature. Not anti-social, just find I enjoy the lone hunt. The weather was reasonable for a December day in Saskatchewan. A few of you southern fellas might consider it damn cold but nothing a good parka and balaclava and gloves won't tame.
I had tromped through a few of my usual spots with "Charlie" sniffing but not finding. I had made a new contact earlier in the season and decided to try my luck there. After a short time with the owner, Charlie and I started our trek along a creek bottom of deep grasses and cat-tails with steep banks covered in willows. This habitat ran for about 1/2 mile. There was a lot of sign in the snow that the birds were around. "Charlie" moved a few out of the willows but I never was able to get a sight line on any bird. The cover thinned eventually and we continued working east into the morning sun. "Charlie" became extremely birdy, her long tail lashing cat-tails as the game was on. A nice rooster flushed and my first shot with the Borden Parker was a miss but on the report a second even bigger rooster sent the snow flying. He was crossing left to right and the second barrel load of Remington #6 shot happened to intersect the flight path at 40 yards out. "Charlie" dutifully brought that nice rooster to me with the pride of a job well done showing in her bird dog grin. He was a heavy bird with lots of the fat that gets built up to ward of starvation as food sources dwindle over winter. He was also a very tasty bird done in a casserole of mushroom wine sauce and quinoa.
When I opened the gun, the two spent shells were ejected but when I re-loaded, the gun would not shut. I pushed the extractor rods forward by hand and it closed. When I got home, I removed the rods and determined that one was slightly bent. Some judicious tapping and light sanding on high spots brought every thing back into order. The gun works flawlessly but over winter I intend to strip it down and give the innards some attention that they have not likely seen in 108 years. Gotta love a Parker Gun.
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A pic of the first Saskatchewan pheasant taken with the Borden Parker. Until I found this Parker, it was a resident of the Annapolis Valley in Nova Scotia.
The Borden Parker Afield
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