After some (too many!) barren, birdless days, we had what I thought was a good hunt the other day. In my shooting journal I posed to myself the question: "What makes a good hunt?" I'm sure many would answer that in citing the numbers of birds seen and taken, but I'm sure that just as many would note other "ingredients" that were baked into a fine hunt.
From my journal entry for our last hunt, here is my response to my own question -- Was is that we "stole" a hunt on a day forecast to have bad weather that was actually quite beautiful? Would it be that puppy Rill puzzled out a covey that was running alongside a thicket and bean field, and from which I took two birds with one shot with my favorite Parker? Could it be that we found a second covey that Rill pinned in head high bluestem and from which I shot at, and took, only one bird which she found in that heavy cover? Or maybe it was that Elaine was with me and was able to share a beautiful, brisk day afield in one of our home covers?
I'm curious how each of you who love to hunt with your Parkers might answer the question of what makes a good hunt?
Here are some photos from our recent hunts. There are a lot of barren miles in between coveys, but it sure makes those few birds even more special.
Photos:
1. One of a couple of coveys we found on an Iowa farm before their deer season closed things down. These coveys know how to hug the cover and get up from behind it. Here's the one bird from a covey of about 15 that came just a bit too far out of the cover. As Gordon McQuarrie once wrote: "He learned a lesson that will be of no further use to him."
2.,3.&4. We were keyed into this covey by a deer hunter who told us how they nearly frightened him to death on his pre-dawn walk to his stand, flushing in his face in the dark. They gave us the slip in their ability to flush out of range and from a deep ditch that prohibited shots, but we caught them regrouping in low grass within sight of the truck as we were headed back. This is the first bird from the scattered covey. I got this one that Rill is chasing, and then picked up a left barrel bird when his buddies lost their cool and decided to flush after my first shot.
5. On a cold, but bright day we tried a farm we had not hunted in several years because the grass had gotten too rank for a quail to get through. To our delight, it had been cropped and now has a good mix of food and cover for birds. We found two coveys here, this one in a small ditch in the bean field. They flushed in my face, buzzing around me like bees from a swarm. I did knock one down that Aspen had to run down for me, but I remember thinking at the time, "I wonder if Mike Koneski has a station set up like this on his course?" If he does, I'll bet there's a lot of cursing that can be heard among his shooters.
6. On our last hunt we found a huge covey buried in a stand of bluestem that was above my head. I have trouble shooting in such stuff, having a tendency to raise my head from the stock in order to see over the cover. This time I had the presence of mind to bear down, pick one bird, and make the shot. We would never have found the bird without a dog...job well done, Rill!
7.&8. As noted, hunts include lots of birdless miles, but if one can overcome the frustration of not finding birds, there is always something to see; a brooding sky or a monarch cottonwood are memorable parts of the day.
9.&10. We now end our hunts at 4:30 pm at the latest, even though in Missouri we can hunt until a half hour after sunset. It gives the birds, should you have scattered a covey, time to get back together to provide the warmth they need to get through the cold Missouri nights. It is not uncommon for us to encounter some of the most beautiful sunsets at this time of year, and we always pause to take it in. I'll admit, things look even more beautiful with a wild Bob in your vest, but a beautiful sunset is to be remembered.
12-14-2024, 01:34 PM
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