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Giving it a try again…….

I use to hunt with my dad and uncle when I was younger. Only Quail and Pheasant though. Stopped when I was 17, when some jackass spun around on a bird and didn't check his back ground. I knew he was going to fire so I spun around. Still got bird shot in the right side of my face. Bounced off everything else and very thankfully I wasn't hit in the eye. Required plastic surgery to give me my great looks. :ROFLMAO: That was it for me. Too many morons out this way. Or to be a little nicer, too many people and not enough space around here.

Good luck on your hunt @Annihilator. Stay safe out there.
 
I use to hunt with my dad and uncle when I was younger. Only Quail and Pheasant though. Stopped when I was 17, when some jackass spun around on a bird and didn't check his back ground. I knew he was going to fire so I spun around. Still got bird shot in the right side of my face. Bounced off everything else and very thankfully I wasn't hit in the eye. Required plastic surgery to give me my great looks. :ROFLMAO: That was it for me. Too many morons out this way. Or to be a little nicer, too many people and not enough space around here.

Good luck on your hunt @Annihilator. Stay safe out there.
Can relate a bit.
Know someone in family who was threatened with a firearm to get off their own hunting property by an uninvited stranger hunting on it at the same time. Other times getting or having self or buildings pelted with shot when someone else didn't check out the surroundings well enough. Was age before advantage of cell phones. Can understand why some people don't hunt anymore. It can get crazy if enough attention and common sense isn't used.
 
Can relate a bit.
Know someone in family who was threatened with a firearm to get off their own hunting property by an uninvited stranger hunting on it at the same time. Other times getting or having self or buildings pelted with shot when someone else didn't check out the surroundings well enough. Was age before advantage of cell phones. Can understand why some people don't hunt anymore. It can get crazy if enough attention and common sense isn't used.
It can get interesting at times for sure. I can understand and appreciate the excitement, but you have to keep things in check. I was holding the shotgun pointed at the ground as I could see there is no way I had a shot. He never even thought about it. Hunter orange hat and a full hunter orange jacket, I was hard to miss. I was surprised that the pellets that hit me in the face went down to the bone. You know how the head bleeds. I looked like something out of a horror movie walking back to the car. No cell phones then either.

After all of that nonsense, I would bring a dog or two out on a Sunday just to spend time in the woods and watch the dogs work. They would always find something to flush and I would think if I could have or could not have made that shot as the bird flew away.
 
I use to hunt with my dad and uncle when I was younger. Only Quail and Pheasant though. Stopped when I was 17, when some jackass spun around on a bird and didn't check his back ground. I knew he was going to fire so I spun around. Still got bird shot in the right side of my face. Bounced off everything else and very thankfully I wasn't hit in the eye. Required plastic surgery to give me my great looks. :ROFLMAO: That was it for me. Too many morons out this way. Or to be a little nicer, too many people and not enough space around here.

Good luck on your hunt @Annihilator. Stay safe out there.

My dad raised bird dogs starting long before I was born. I grew up hunting over Elhew English Pointers. I was 7 the first time I went quail hunting and had my own single shot, break action, Stevens 20 gauge when I was 8. My dad bred and trained bird dogs all the way up until quail became almost impossible to find around here 20 years ago or so. He eventually switched to Brittanys, which are really much better bird dogs for older guys or anyone who doesn't want to have to keep up with a pointer. Pointers pretty much hunt for themselves whereas a Brittany will cast out until she can't see you and then turn around and come back. They hunt for YOU. Watching the dogs work was always the big draw for me and my pop. I mean we shot a S load of quail, woodcock and grouse, but that was never the real goal.

Anyway, my dad had a rule. There was always a cousin or an uncle or a nephew somewhere wanting to go hunting with us. Even though the majority of our hunts it was just him and I because we typically went at least 2 days a week from November 1st through January 15th. The rule was simple. My dad trained all his dogs to hold point. We never had a dog that would flush and on the rare occasion one of them decided to flush they were scolded. So you have dogs that will hold point infinitely. No matter how many people were there ( never more than 4 that I can remember) we would take turns flushing birds. So when a dog was on point we figured out who was going to flush and that person did NOT take a shot. The other hunters situated themselves safely and were aware of their swing zones. 30 years of bird hunting and never one time did anyone point a shotgun in an unsafe direction.

The only close call involved one of my pointers. It was near the end of the good ol' days around here and we were hunting pen raised birds on a ranch ( which we only did twice before realizing that it was pointless). Pen raised birds won't run and they are difficult to flush. You almost have to kick them. I had a pointer who was about a year old and the temptation of the bird just sitting there not moving was too much and she jumped it. The bird slowly rose to about 4' off the ground by which time my dog was up in the air with it in her mouth. My dad had his Fox double barrel shouldered and in motion. Thankfully he didn't take the shot. I'm not sure if he stopped on his own or if he stopped because I was screaming at him. Either way it was pretty much the straw that broke the camel's back as far as hunting pen raised birds was concerned. Neither one of us ever did it again. The club I belong to raises Brittanys and quail and chukkar and for about $8/bird I could hunt over their dogs if I wanted to. I have never felt the desire to. At the time of this last ranch hunt my dad had one Brittany ( Molly) and I had one Pointer ( Ruby). Molly was 8 or 9 and after that she spent her few remaining years as a house pet. My Pointer was hit by a car before she was 2 years old and neither of us ever bred or bought another bird dog, That was about 20 years ago.
 
My dad raised bird dogs starting long before I was born. I grew up hunting over Elhew English Pointers. I was 7 the first time I went quail hunting and had my own single shot, break action, Stevens 20 gauge when I was 8. My dad bred and trained bird dogs all the way up until quail became almost impossible to find around here 20 years ago or so. He eventually switched to Brittanys, which are really much better bird dogs for older guys or anyone who doesn't want to have to keep up with a pointer. Pointers pretty much hunt for themselves whereas a Brittany will cast out until she can't see you and then turn around and come back. They hunt for YOU. Watching the dogs work was always the big draw for me and my pop. I mean we shot a S load of quail, woodcock and grouse, but that was never the real goal.

Anyway, my dad had a rule. There was always a cousin or an uncle or a nephew somewhere wanting to go hunting with us. Even though the majority of our hunts it was just him and I because we typically went at least 2 days a week from November 1st through January 15th. The rule was simple. My dad trained all his dogs to hold point. We never had a dog that would flush and on the rare occasion one of them decided to flush they were scolded. So you have dogs that will hold point infinitely. No matter how many people were there ( never more than 4 that I can remember) we would take turns flushing birds. So when a dog was on point we figured out who was going to flush and that person did NOT take a shot. The other hunters situated themselves safely and were aware of their swing zones. 30 years of bird hunting and never one time did anyone point a shotgun in an unsafe direction.

The only close call involved one of my pointers. It was near the end of the good ol' days around here and we were hunting pen raised birds on a ranch ( which we only did twice before realizing that it was pointless). Pen raised birds won't run and they are difficult to flush. You almost have to kick them. I had a pointer who was about a year old and the temptation of the bird just sitting there not moving was too much and she jumped it. The bird slowly rose to about 4' off the ground by which time my dog was up in the air with it in her mouth. My dad had his Fox double barrel shouldered and in motion. Thankfully he didn't take the shot. I'm not sure if he stopped on his own or if he stopped because I was screaming at him. Either way it was pretty much the straw that broke the camel's back as far as hunting pen raised birds was concerned. Neither one of us ever did it again. The club I belong to raises Brittanys and quail and chukkar and for about $8/bird I could hunt over their dogs if I wanted to. I have never felt the desire to. At the time of this last ranch hunt my dad had one Brittany ( Molly) and I had one Pointer ( Ruby). Molly was 8 or 9 and after that she spent her few remaining years as a house pet. My Pointer was hit by a car before she was 2 years old and neither of us ever bred or bought another bird dog, That was about 20 years ago.
You still have the good memories!
 
You still have the good memories!

Indeed. We also hunted deer. My dad always with a BAR in 30-06. By the time I was 21 I was almost exclusively hunting with a .44 Magnum pistol. I had also gotten heavily into bow hunting. When the quail hunting came to an end I got my dad into bow hunting and we still ended up spending November, December and half of January hunting. Except we were in the woods instead of in the milo.

My dad is 81 now and about 3 years ago he had his last hunting season. I had already decided that when he couldn't do it anymore I would stop as well. I can't count how many deer I have killed in my life and by about 5 years ago it not only had ceased to be a challenge, even with a pistol, but I began feeling bad every time I killed one. Getting soft in my old age. The old man never did. Right up to the last hunt if he could see it he was going to shoot at it.

Our very last hunt we went to our typical spots. I was up on the ridge and dad was down at the bottom behind the pond about 30' from where the truck was parked. Usually does would come up and down that ridge right past me to the pond. I often watched them walk by knowing they would head down to where he was. I usually only took one after he already had his. On this last hunt I killed no deer. I watched a bunch walk by. Some my dad never saw and a couple he shot at and missed. Eventually he got one. Not wanting the last hunt to be over for him I left him in his ground blind and told him if he saw one he should kill it and we would use my remaining tag. I watched god knows how many deer walk past me until he finally killed one of them. Anyway, his last hunt he got to shoot two deer which is exactly how I planned it.
 
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My buddy can't hardly wait to get to the woods and be a camp dog!

Ready to hunt.JPG
 
My dad raised bird dogs starting long before I was born. I grew up hunting over Elhew English Pointers. I was 7 the first time I went quail hunting and had my own single shot, break action, Stevens 20 gauge when I was 8. My dad bred and trained bird dogs all the way up until quail became almost impossible to find around here 20 years ago or so. He eventually switched to Brittanys, which are really much better bird dogs for older guys or anyone who doesn't want to have to keep up with a pointer. Pointers pretty much hunt for themselves whereas a Brittany will cast out until she can't see you and then turn around and come back. They hunt for YOU. Watching the dogs work was always the big draw for me and my pop. I mean we shot a S load of quail, woodcock and grouse, but that was never the real goal.
Great post @Bassbob. You are spot on with Brittany's vs Pointers. We had Brittany's as well. Loved that they would just freeze and we would wait for everyone else to walk by. This was in a game management area where there would always be a rush of people in the woods come sunup. We found ourself changing tactics quite a bit. We would always let everyone run through the first few areas. Some had dogs, some didn't. They would go through so fast they would always miss birds. Our dogs wouldn't. You got to know the people that would be there but all that started to change. More people would start to show up and some where very aggressive. Some would bring a dog that had no business being in the woods hunting birds and running all over the place. The Brittany's that were on point would become the focal point of the other untrained, un-socialized dogs aggression. You get the idea. We decided to go to a different area further away. Far less people but ironically, that's were I got hit in the face.

It certainly wasn't all bad though. Always enjoyed being with my dad, uncle and the dogs. Have a lot of great memories.
 
Indeed. We also hunted deer. My dad always with a BAR in 30-06. By the time I was 21 I was almost exclusively hunting with a .44 Magnum pistol. I had also gotten heavily into bow hunting. When the quail hunting came to an end I got my dad into bow hunting and we still ended up spending November, December and half of January hunting. Except we were in the woods instead of in the milo.

My dad is 81 now and about 3 years ago he had his last hunting season. I had already decided that when he couldn't do it anymore I would stop as well. I can't count how many deer I have killed in my life and by about 5 years ago it not only had ceased to be a challenge, even with a pistol, but I began feeling bad every time I killed one. Getting soft in my old age. The old man never did. Right up to the last hunt if he could see it he was going to shoot at it.
Awesome you did that for your dad!
 
Well, my hunting adventure may be on a hiatus, dislocated my thumb on my left hand again in less then a month, had a previous injury several years ago and this happens sometimes but not this close, I hate getting old, I’m falling apart…..
 
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