Took off for a few days last week to visit my son down in PA. The strategy, loosely applied, was to drink beer, smoke cigars, & take a shot (!) at pheasant hunting.
I’m not a bird hunter, & I had some consternation on the idea of a “canned hunt”. The procedure at the hunt club we visited was to plant the birds in fields, then let the hunters & dogs loose to go find & shoot them. It didn’t sound very sporting to me, as I pictured 20 birds let loose on a football field, then shooters blasting away.
Hoo boy, was I wrong.
They do indeed let the birds loose, one at a time, scattered all over a couple fields of about 5 acres total. The BIG catch was that these fields in NO way resembled football fields, or even hay fields. Nope, these beauties were covered in weeds, grasses, pucker brush, thistles, & all manner of pointy vegetation ranging from knee high to head high. Much of the stuff was practically impenetrable to someone dressed in jeans (me).
The dog, thankfully, got through the stuff pretty well. As we combed through the fields, Sage, a pretty & personable Chesapeake Bay retriever, did her thing by finding the birds, flushing them, then doing her retriever bit.
And we did our thing, & came home with 14 birds.
Many thanks to son Dan, & his/my friends Brian & Ed (Sage’s dad), for a great (& soon delicious) time.
I think I'll do that again...
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