Dancing for the little gray rockets
After a decade of dove hunting, those little gray speedsters still get me twisted up
Not until about the seventh shot and five gray rockets missed did I remember that I had not whipped a shotgun around on a dove for two years.
Last year I had those danged vision issues, how could I have forgotten?
The day had scarcely begun, clouds to the east obscured the dawn and kept the fields gray as the doves. I was a j-u-u-s-t a little out of practice. It may seem rude to call a bird with plumage of such a wide range of subtle colors and beauty as the mourning dove “gray,” but in the blue pre-dawn light that is a cold reality of it.
“I just can’t get a bead on one,” I heard a hunter down the row proclaim.
“Aiming” is not what one does when shooting doves. Shotgunning instinct and swing-through with good hand-eye coordination is the game. It’s a quick reaction. And a feel.
But I had a bad case of “bird-head.” I whipped my noggin back and forth and round and round to try and see every bird for fear of missing any chance that might come along.
Bird-head led to twisted feet and, to boot, I had Tess Maune of Channel 6 sitting low, behind me and I could just feel her camera trained on my biggest and best attributes as I did my dance for the little gray rockets.
She was out at one of guide Gordie Montgomery’s fields to film an installment of The Outdoor Life with Tess Maune sponsored by Academy Sports + Outdoors that air Fridays on Six in the Morning. (Her opening day segment will air Sept. 10 at 6:15 and 7:45 a.m.) I was there to, well, to do what I do.
She is the nicest person you’d ever want to share a few minutes of a hunt with, truly. The morning’s discombobulation was all me just being me.
Frankly, I think I am typically best served if I let the first 15 minutes of dove season pass as a spectator. When the doves are flying it’s hard not to get all hyped up, and I had it in my head that opportunities would be few, so I wanted to take advantage of every possible shot (more about bird numbers later).
But I also know my distance vision stinks and is especially bad in low light with bifocals that are inevitably a little fogged or smeared on a humid September morning. So, in that all-important shooting skill of hand-eye coordination, one factor consistently falls short.
A few minutes passed without any birds or volleys from the hunters near me, so I was able to let my brain settle, recognize that most of my shots were going to be at birds coming from behind me, over my right shoulder or straight overhead, and flying downwind and away—fast!
I set my feet for a comfortable swing, watched the sky over my shoulder instead of turning around to peer into the dark treeline like a madman, and the next bird dropped with a single clean (fast) pull through.
I turned around to tell Tess I finally got my act together—and she was gone.
From somewhere down the road, behind the Johnson grass I heard her say, “Sure, you wait until I’m gone!”
Ha! Nicest woman you’d ever want to share a hunt with. Truly.
She did come back to visit about 20 minutes later and let me recover some dignity on video, at least in the telling. I think I’d shot nine birds in that short time so I was extra sweaty and a little short of breath from hurrying across the field to make retrieves (because my Lab, Whiskey, is in rehab). I might have even had a little of that foamy spittle stuff in the corners of my mouth as I tried to talk, I don’t know.
I’ll admit it. It felt a little weird being on the other side of the camera. But I trust she will not leave me looking like a complete nincompoop if she ends up using any of that footage around me when she had so many other great characters to choose from around the field that day.
In all seriousness, it was a pleasure to see Tess out there working hard around the field to get good videos and to talk to lots of the hunters for local TV news.
She simply does a fantastic job.
After I filled my limit I followed her footsteps down the line to get some photos and saw Brad Warwick and his 7-year-old pointing Labrador, Harlee, as he announced, “I’ve got one bird left to go.”
In spite of my warning that making such a statement about filling the day’s bag limit is a jinx on all who utter such things and a further caution that if I stood behind him to take photos it would double-jinx his quest for one last bird, he welcomed me right on in.
The jinx was short-lived but real enough. After a few misses that defied reasonable expectation, he did drop a bird—which another hunter claimed with a shot apparently fired at exactly the same time.
Tess finally came along to save the day.
A jinx is bad, a double-jinx is trouble, but everyone knows there is no such thing as a triple jinx. So with both Tess and me behind him and Harlee at his side, Brad was finally able to finish his day and walk off with a happy retriever.
You just can’t beat a morning like that.
For my part, with a limit of birds by 7:30 a.m. and noting it in on social media, a few friends pointed out I had some explaining to do! After all, I had reported to folks the hunting would be spotty across much of the state for these opening days of the season.
I am standing by those reports.
I had reported that Gordie said he had one “hot” field and several others that were fair but not anything like past years. We were on the hot one, obviously.
Montgomery watches doves like no one else and I’d take his assessment of that 50-acre area before a judge and jury.
He texted: “Seemed to have 600-700 birds like some other fields, which was unreal for this year. But if you noticed, even though we had 90-100 degrees we had north breezes for a couple of days, so it loaded up three days before season to 2,500 or so! We actually thought we lost about 500-700 two days before, so there is some migration happening, no doubt!”
This particular field is one that, the past two seasons, was “crap,” he noted.
“My words on all great dove fields: Goals, steps, timing, all must happen to be successful,” the text read. “When it’s dry at the end of August that’s much easier of course on the timing.”
Indeed, timing—like shooting straight when the TV camera is on you—not later.
With migration, our dove fields will be as off-and-on as ever, but I’m looking forward to some great late-season shoots as well. Montgomery said he had a successful group mid-week and that more birds are sure to come. But still, “it’s spotty,” he said.
I wish you all might land in a spot in the coming days and weeks, with birds enough to allow you the chance to get your head screwed on straight and shoot accordingly.
Loved, loved this read.