View Full Version : You just know sometimes

September 18, 2005, 20:20
It doesn't take a specified date for hunting season to be prime nor does it mean that you have to be the first out on opening day.
Sometimes you just feel it in your bones, your mind, and in every breath when you awake.

Opening day for dove season came and went with no celebration or effort on my part to validate the event. Just another day to me but at least I knew that when I was "ready", I could grab my field bag and scattergun, head to my back 40 and do as I wanted without cause of concern for legalities.
Being just a few hundred yards from national grasslands that brings out the city-slicker yahoos during dove season, you can count on distant "boom-boom-booms" coming from that direction as if dozens of hunters were downing hundreds of birds. If truth be known, it is usually a group of 3-4 laying down a sweeping line of fire against a single bird they were lucky enough to scare up.

Apart from laughing at the usual spray and pray crowd, I thought nothing of birds for my yearly endeavor into the fields as I knew "my day" was coming.

Many here know what I mean. You just know when you wake up one morning and finish stretching on the front porch while taking the first sips of joe. You watch the sun come up, you hear the chatter of wildlife coming awake, and the "feeling" hits you right between the eyes. "Today is the day"!

Nothing special needed from Cabellas here. Just boots, jeans, a t-shirt, ballcap, field bag, and a trusty wingmaster that lived an eventful life beforehand as patrol gun with some remote PD that you never heard of.

Heading out the backdoor, your paths are pre-planned from years previous, skirting the pastures along fencelines, hidden by trees and watching every footstep the closer you got to the sweet spots. The chirping of wings can be heard not too distant and you check wind direction just to make sure nothing will thwart your attempts at bagging a few the first try. Patience, patience, patience. Walk slowly, pace your breathing, make sure your weapon is at the ready and make your way to that row of dried up blackberry bushes in order to hide your approach. Luckily, the rain from 3 days ago deposited enough water to fill a slight depression in the terrain of which birds are now gathered. At this point, you flashback to situations like this from last year or earlier. You know what to do but you still fast forward in your mind, seeing every step, movement, and reaction in order to plan this leg of the hunt to successful fruition.

I'm in place. I'm lucky to have made it this far without spooking a single bird. I pat myself on the back thinking it was skill but I know that it all goes back to the first feelings of waking up just knowing today was going to be perfect.

I slowly raise my 870 to my shoulder, sighting in three birds huddled together, walking away from the small pool of water. These plump birds have had thier fill and will soon be departing the rest....in more ways than one.
Being proper and giving these birds a slight chance and to test my "skill" further, I spot a a large branch among the bushes to tap my boot against. The countdown starts with deliberate slowing of resparations. I start to take up that tiny hair of slack in the trigger, position my boot a few inches above the alarm branch and "RUFF,RUFF,RUFF,RUFF,RUFF"!!!!!

The tiny terror of basecamp followed me all the way from the house just far enough away that I couldn't detect him. Sneeky little bugger crept his way within two feet of me and spotted the quarry, sending out a warning signal that pierced the silence and my eardrums. The birds scattered, the shotgun went on safety and I began speaking in foriegn tongues to a pooch that up until now, was really man's best friend.

I've deduced that the high protien soy/corn based dogfood I started feeding him two weeks ago has turned him into a vegitarian OR that he is in cohorts with the wildlife around the house in some sort of FEMA based campaign.

I tucked tail, still speaking jibberish and headed to the house with my pooch hot on my heels as if he just captured an enemy stronghold.

Some days it pays to stay in bed. You know what I mean?

September 18, 2005, 22:02

Plain George
September 18, 2005, 23:20
:rolleyes: :rolleyes: ROFLMAO:D :D

September 25, 2005, 08:11
Good story Fal ole Pal! :biggrin:

September 25, 2005, 09:16
good one:D

September 29, 2005, 15:53
Very Good.