Growing up in eastern Ohio on a dairy farm, we had pheasants, quail, and the woods were thick with grouse. WE grew all our own corn, wheat, oats, etc. I remember chasing quail around with my BB gun (never got one), and my father mounted a gun holder on the tractor so they could shoot at pheasants while harvesting the corn. Sadly, the pheasants can only thrive in the glaciated areas of Ohio-we were in the foothills of the Appalachians, and the blizzards of 77-78 decimated the quail. Grouse are almost mythical at this point--kind of like hunting for unicorns or ivory billed woodpeckers. Thus I throw myself into 2 weeks in the UP, hunting from early to late, wearing both my dogs and myself out.
I comiserate with all you southern gentlemen, who grew up with the bobwhite quail, and now find yourself having to travel long distances or pay big bucks just to keep your birddogs happy.
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"How kind it is that most of us will never know when we have fired our last shot"--Nash Buckingham
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