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September 19, 2009, 05:47 PM | #1 |
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NEVER Hunt upland birds with someone much younger than you
So....
Two of us 50+ year-olds went upland hunting with a barely-30 guy in great shape. I 'thought' I was in good shape. We walked an amazing distance. Worked some good draws between rugged divides. Harvested a few dove. Jumped a small covey of quail. We all got a few. My legs are getting tired, and I'm running out of fluids, I'm thinking we're about done, and you guessed it. We found the mother lode of quail in the most rugged draw. A fresh shot of adrenaline and we're on the hunt again. The quail were most cooperative. They would hold tight until we were right on them. Then they'd flush in waves. You could shoot, reload, and shoot again, all in one place. Then we'd start to move along the draw, walk about 4 feet and another wave would flush behind us! So we pushed this covey over a mile down this rugged draw, shooting wave after wave. By this time, the dog was getting so tired she would only retreive the easy kills. So the only time we paused was to hike the rugged terrain the fetch a bird that the dog was smart enough to leave. Us older guys were seriously pushing ourselves to keep up with this young buck and his dog. If we had shot better, we would not have been able to hunt as far... We finally ran out of ammo long after we ran out of fluids. And, of course, we're another rugged mile farther from the truck. But what can you do? We sucked it up and tried to keep up with superman. The dog gets so tired she would just lay down on the trail and not move a few minutes. Under my breath, I blessed her for her sense. About halfway back, we find a little water hole about a foot deep. The dog gets in and hunkers down so just her ears, eyes and nose are out of the water. Such a look of bliss on her face. I was so jealous. She drinks about half the hole, then double-times back to the truck, with The Flash right behind her. Me and my seasoned buddy pushed until I was almost ready to call life flight. But we made it. And quail are in the oven. And Google Earth tells us we could've taken another road to about half-mile from that draw...
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September 19, 2009, 09:52 PM | #2 |
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So...did you enjoy it?
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September 19, 2009, 10:04 PM | #3 |
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Join Date: January 7, 2000
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After a nice meal of quail, and a good foot rub from the wife, YOU BET.
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September 20, 2009, 03:52 PM | #4 |
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Location: Back in Wyoming
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IMO, Superman should either be more considerate or find a new hunting partner. I consider myself a decent hiker but will not hesitate to taylor my pace to those around me and expect the same of those in better shape to do the same for me. If I find that my pace doesn't mesh well with my hunting partner I thank them for the hunt and start looking for a new partner. It makes no sense (to me) to push yourself too much on a hunt because 1: I don't think it is safe and 2: It just aint fun. Intentionally pushing yourself to the limit of your endurance should be done close to home, not in the middle of nowhere where the consequences are greater. Save that reserve of strength for an emergency. Just my belief.
Not that I never push myself a little (say on a Sheep hunt etc.) but I absolutely refuse to let myself "bonk". |
September 20, 2009, 03:57 PM | #5 |
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Just wait until your over 60 - it doesn't get easier
Great story though.
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Don Davis Last edited by dondavis3; September 20, 2009 at 09:00 PM. |
September 20, 2009, 05:14 PM | #6 |
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Wow, that was a very well-written story. I felt like I was reading a published book on dove hunting.
Thanks for the interesting read, and glad you made it out alive
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September 20, 2009, 08:41 PM | #7 |
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Ah, you young guys. After I hit into my 60s, I evolved an easier style for messing with the local blue quail. We have miles and miles of jeep trail in my hunt area.
So: Drive along until a covey is seen. Jump out and socialize, maybe a hundred yards of dead run and bangitty-bang. Gather up a bird or three and drive on. Repeat as the opportunity arises. I don' wanna get too far from the cooler. , Art |
September 20, 2009, 10:42 PM | #8 |
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I know exactly what you are talking about. My son is 23, a soocer player. My friend's son is 21, a football defensive back. We took them chukar hunting with us which turned out to be a huge mistake. My buddy and I were both 55 at the time. We got two birds between us. These two kids ran up and down the mountains like deer. We kept up with them for about 2 minutes...
Last edited by Fat White Boy; September 21, 2009 at 09:58 PM. |
September 21, 2009, 07:00 PM | #9 |
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Join Date: June 14, 2009
Location: portland oregon
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com on one more draw
I m sorry guy,s im that guy one of my main hobbies is
mountain biking and long legged and have done a lot of backpacking but i like to use my extra time to fish more spots or sit or watch a bird |
September 21, 2009, 07:38 PM | #10 | ||
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Join Date: January 7, 2000
Location: Idaho
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Quote:
Quote:
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I am Pro-Rights (on gun issues). |
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September 21, 2009, 08:09 PM | #11 |
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Location: Buffalo WY
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I had taken my granddaughter to the White Mtns in So. Cal she was 12 and a very good cross country runner. She reminded me of a young dog who could do 7 miles to your 1.After hours of hiking in the Bristlecones on the way back to camp she was skipping down the trail my buddy and I were beat.Youth is wasted on the young
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