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how bought some
Unread 02-13-2010, 08:35 AM   #1
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Default how bought some

hunting stories old or new. Heres 1. Few years ago took Jett dove hunting (my boy) he was probably in 4th grade. Friend and I were sitting by a pond, Jett had 1 wonded (when he was young he didn't like to ring there necks) so he follows this dove around a pile of dirt and little later we here this boom then jett says Dad I can't find the other 1/2 of my dove, me and warren just chuckled. ch

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Dad's Quintuple
Unread 02-24-2010, 01:31 AM   #2
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Post Dad's Quintuple

Calvin: Thought your thread would have generated a few stories. Here's one.

Before I was old enough to have a hunting license, I accompanied my Dad whenever and wherever he went hunting - from mountain valleys to prairie flats in snow, rain or bright sunshine. One trip was to a swathed wheat field for ducks. It was a nice day, so no low slow flights. Dad had a habit of adding just a bit more powder than the recipe called for so the long shots could still bring them down. (I don't know if there is any validity to that assumption, but he did it.) So we sat in the field with a bit of swath covering us. We watched as high flying green heads criss-crossed the clear blue sky. None had any interest in dropping in for breakfast. At one point, Dad stood up with the VH pointed skyward. Yes there was a line of mallards up there, but they seemed no different to me than any of the others that had flown by. There was that familiar report and I watched in some amazement as one, then two, then three, then four, then a fifth mallard plummeted to the field. Five from a line. Dad told me he lead the first bird by a long way and it was the third or fourth bird that was first to fall and they continued to drop. He was amazed as well. Mr. Parker may not have been amazed just pleased to see another of his guns met expectations.

Cheers,
Jack
Sometimes we were a bit above the valley



A lot of time spent on prairie farm land for both upland and migratory





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Last edited by Jack Cronkhite; 02-26-2010 at 02:50 AM.. Reason: amuse myself in the wee hours and add a few pics of spots I'd like to have just one more hunt with Dad
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Unread 02-24-2010, 06:57 AM   #3
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Bo-Whoop couldn't have bested that shot!
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Tailgunner teals-
Unread 02-24-2010, 08:42 AM   #4
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The first time I shot my Father's favorite shotgun (now also my favorite NON-DOUBLE-GUN) I was about 14, and we were out for ducks. I was used to the M12 pump, started with a 20 given to me when I was about 11- But his M12- a Tournament Grade 12 gauge- 30" Full with solid rib and solid red pad and fancier wood- Wow- I was in gunner's heaven you could say.

We were out in the Old Town canoe on an elbow point on Horseshoe Lake, mid-October, Saturday early morning (No Sunday Hunting in The Buckeye State except on Lake Erie back then) and there were many greenwing and bluewing teals locally, plus mallards and woodies too.

The eastern skies were blushing pink like a spinster schoolmarm who overhead a salacious remark I'd guess, a tad of windspit from behind us has just riffled the water, a few cork decoys (specie undetermined) were moving against the anchor line's tug- and Wheeveeee-Whoosh- a string of four greenwings came around the bend from behind us.

I had drawn the front position, and our rule was, whether floating a river or on the points of the lake, ONLY the bow placed hunter held the shotgun-- So my Father had given me first 'crack" at any Kamakazi-minded ducks- I swung that long barrel way ahead of the lead bird and crunched the trigger, BANG-Shuck- out came the red paper empty and down kersplash went the last teal in the string-

"Nice shot there, Son" was his comment as we got ready to paddle out and retrieve my first bird (of many to come later) with that "Money Gun"-- I never did tell him I was shooting for the lead bird, and he had the wisdom never to ask- So much for the old Samuel Langhorn Clemens comment about when he was 14 he thought his father wasn't very smart--:d uck:
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Unread 02-25-2010, 12:46 AM   #5
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Francis Morin View Post
The eastern skies were blushing pink like a spinster schoolmarm who overhead a salacious remark ...
Did you write that all by yourself or have a bit of help????

Her piercing glance toward the back of the small school room froze Francis in a hopeless stare of anguish as he realized she knew from whence arose that salacious remark. No more blushing pink. As she grasped the pointer in one gnarled hand and the yardstick in the other, there was yet light, but the skies descended in an ominous melanistic rage........

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Last edited by Jack Cronkhite; 02-25-2010 at 01:33 AM.. Reason: post proper preposition
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I get by with a little help- from::
Unread 02-25-2010, 08:39 AM   #6
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Default I get by with a little help- from::

I barely got past the 10th Grade Jack- but am an avid reader and either blessed or cursed with a retentive memory I guess- The schoolmarm came from the late Corey Ford's "Letter To A Grandson", and the morning pink from one of Nash Buckingham's great waterfowling stories- the rest I just "winged"! Glad you liked it, and I really liked your reposte as well. As Steinbeck said so well: "Now is the winter of our discontentment- or wait- was that Steinway--

Either way, would be great to share some bourbon and branch and haul out the Parkers and other fine guns and as Mr. Lewis C. said so well- discuss those cabbages and Kings--Walter King, Charles King--
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Ooops- addendum
Unread 02-25-2010, 08:50 AM   #7
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Default Ooops- addendum

The computer typewriter thingy has the gremlins, what I tried to asnwer was more akin to this-- The schoolmarm analogy came from the late Corey Ford's "Letter To A Grandson" and the pink skies came from one of many great Nash Buckingham's waterfowling stories- With Winter still with us, would be nice to share some bourbon and branch with you up there Jack- we could haul the Parkers and other goodies out of their steel tombs, admire them, and in the words of the late Lewis Carroll, discuss: "Cabbages and Kings- ie: Charles King, Walter King, heck- even Burger King--
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Unread 02-25-2010, 11:09 AM   #8
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Well if you ever find yourself in my little frozen corner of the world, libations and conversations can flow. Steel tombs - an apt description. As a kid, they were just in a closet. In woodshop, I built a gun rack for Dad and they then were visible for all to see. As a young man, I hung my two favorites in the antlers of a mule deer mount (Dad was a taxidermist also) that was visible to any passerby on the front sidewalk. Nobody thought anything about that. People understood and accepted guns as a normal part of life. That changed over time and now we have the steel tombs. I must divest or see the undertaker and get a third tomb.

Cheers,
Jack

BTW: have you checked and deciphered the lyrics from the photos in your Visitor Messages ?? Hit the airwaves 1967.
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