GREAT string, guys. Keep 'em coming.
your most memorable hunting experience
- Thread starter bigchuck83
- Start date
Ed Fowler
Member
The event that comes to mind was when a friend and I jumped 6 drake mallards out of a drain ditch. We were both shooting Win Mod 12's and got all six with six shots. That does not sound very dramatic, but usually both will shoot the same duck or one will miss.
Two black Lab males retrieved the shot birds to the one who shot them and it was all perfect team work.
Hunted a lot but that day comes to mind most often.
Two black Lab males retrieved the shot birds to the one who shot them and it was all perfect team work.
Hunted a lot but that day comes to mind most often.
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Pheasant season opens on a Saturday at exactly high noon. My daughter
& son in law had given me a Chesapeake Bay Retriever pup for my birthday. I called him Burt. (Later I got a bride for him named Liz)
Well at high noon my partner, Burt, and I were standing on a ridge over-
looking a corn stubble field, waiting for the magic moment. There were
at least another dozen or so hunters spread out along the ridge waiting.
Right at Noon:01 Burt (only six months old now) flushed a big rooster.
Bang. I got him. I think Burt had him before he hit the ground. He
trotted back to me and sat down. I held out my hand and he presented
me the rooster. Of course all those other hunters were watching. I could
easily get a thousand bucks for this pup right now, but I wouldn't take
ten times that amount.
& son in law had given me a Chesapeake Bay Retriever pup for my birthday. I called him Burt. (Later I got a bride for him named Liz)
Well at high noon my partner, Burt, and I were standing on a ridge over-
looking a corn stubble field, waiting for the magic moment. There were
at least another dozen or so hunters spread out along the ridge waiting.
Right at Noon:01 Burt (only six months old now) flushed a big rooster.
Bang. I got him. I think Burt had him before he hit the ground. He
trotted back to me and sat down. I held out my hand and he presented
me the rooster. Of course all those other hunters were watching. I could
easily get a thousand bucks for this pup right now, but I wouldn't take
ten times that amount.
I had a very old Winchester .22LR rifle. I can't remember the model but it was old, octagon barrel, and gold inlaid scenes on both side of the stock.
I was out shooting jack rabbits. With my last cartridge I just wounded a
jack. Trying to be merciful, since out of ammo, I clubbed him with my rifle. Broke the stock. Crazy Phil. I glued it back together, but it doesn't look very professional. It was one of my long guns that I gave away back about 16 years ago. This one went to my grandson.
I was out shooting jack rabbits. With my last cartridge I just wounded a
jack. Trying to be merciful, since out of ammo, I clubbed him with my rifle. Broke the stock. Crazy Phil. I glued it back together, but it doesn't look very professional. It was one of my long guns that I gave away back about 16 years ago. This one went to my grandson.
Double-O-Dave
US Veteran
dougb1946
Member
When you hunt with a dog, the memories are of the dog.
Hunting pheasants with Piper, a little black and white Springer, we had a good day. Working knee deep grass, Piper worked one bird for several hundred yards with me trotting along in range. The bird jumped and flew right to left in front of me-long shot. Piper held steady (she had seen me miss a few) when I shot, and the bird folded. We were both a little surprised. Piper held steady until the bird hit the ground, then broke for it. You've seen the WW2 movies with the torpedo running-thats what she looked like going through the grass. She came up out of the grass just short of the bird and came down on it hard. She picked it up, and holding it high, pranced back to me. Around me twice and placed the bird in my hand. Every thing the way the book says to do it. We went home.
She's been gone about 2 years now, but her great great nephew is sleeping on my feet right now. Different colors, but same attitude towards birds. Memories to make yet.
Hunting pheasants with Piper, a little black and white Springer, we had a good day. Working knee deep grass, Piper worked one bird for several hundred yards with me trotting along in range. The bird jumped and flew right to left in front of me-long shot. Piper held steady (she had seen me miss a few) when I shot, and the bird folded. We were both a little surprised. Piper held steady until the bird hit the ground, then broke for it. You've seen the WW2 movies with the torpedo running-thats what she looked like going through the grass. She came up out of the grass just short of the bird and came down on it hard. She picked it up, and holding it high, pranced back to me. Around me twice and placed the bird in my hand. Every thing the way the book says to do it. We went home.
She's been gone about 2 years now, but her great great nephew is sleeping on my feet right now. Different colors, but same attitude towards birds. Memories to make yet.
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