In the 1970’s, one of our favorite dove hunting spots in Arizona was south of Phoenix on the St. John’s Indian Reservation. Back then, a hunting permit was a whopping $5.00 and like $10.00 for a family and this allowed the hunters access to some great mourning dove hunting.

One of the best spots on the reservation was along an irrigated, grain field, the north edge bordering on thick brush that the doves were using as a roost and rest area. This particular Saturday afternoon, we, my family and the Schroder’s, had decided to combine a dove hunt along the edge of the brush and, after the hunt, a cook out in a clearing fifty yards in. The afternoon sun was to our right and the birds flew south to north, coming out of the field and flying right over us, providing easy head on, or quartering, shots.

Head on’s are easy. Track the bird, cover it with the muzzle, fire and follow through. The bird flies right in to the shot string, usually providing a clean kill, then falls near the shooter. Not having to walk around much in the sun means a lot on a hot September day in Arizona! Quartering shots are a little different, just be sure to get the right lead and then bang away!

The afternoon flight was just beginning, scattered shots coming from our four shooters that were strung out along the edge of the field. On my first shot, a quartering one, I knocked down a dove that was just loafing along, not flying anywhere near max speed, but soon, with all the shooting the birds picked up their pace considerably!

With the doves pouring over us, we kept banging away. Before long, with the temp over a hundred, combining this with all of our shooting, our barrels started heating up. Just load up and keep shooting, but don’t touch the hot part.
One bird away from my limit, I looked up and here came one heading right over me, an easy head on shot. Tracking the bird and firing, puff, a clean hit and the bird rocketed straight for my chest. Holding my shotgun with my right hand and holding up my left, I was going to be real cool and catch this one, one handed, but at the last moment the dove gained a little lift rising over my outstretched hand and smacked me right between the eyes, knocking me over!

The force of four ounces traveling at, I guess, 35 MPH, applied right between my eyes, was a wallop. Getting up and looking through my broken shooting glasses, covered with mine and the dove’s blood, I saw that, besides being shot, the bird had a broken neck. However, the dove got his revenge, but $100.00 later for a new pair of shooting glasses, I wasn’t to be deterred, and soon, my next free afternoon found me back on the reservation.

After cleaning the birds, we washed up, grilled the steaks and along with green chilies and onions had almost a feast. After dinner, Jake looked over at me and, with a straight face, asked, “Beech, you went down real easy, think you have a “glass” forehead?

Since I had stuff to do and dove season was starting on Wednesday, this past Tuesday I was up before the sun and started my walk a little early. It was still dark when several hundred yards into my walk there was movement to my right and I snapped this “shot” of two deer. They were as surprised as I was!

As I was making my turn-around, this doe and her two fawns stood still long enough for a “shot”.

However they scattered in two different directions and I got this going away “shot” of the doe in high gear as she was departing the area!

As for Wednesday’s dove hunting, not many birds flying, not near enough hunters out in mid-week and for a place that has offered many limit hunts over the years, this hunt stunk! Our bag was one ring neck, three white wings and two mourners, hopefully, Saturday, with many hunters out, will be the day.

When this post pops up on my blog, Mickey Donahoo and I will be out dove hunting at a friends place in San Saba. Dove season opens up at sunrise on September 1 and we’ll be out there to welcome the new season in!

Years ago, the new season opening meant mourning doves and plenty of them, but over the last twenty years, white wing doves have migrated up from the Rio Grande Valley and Mexico and can be found almost all over our State. Something new has also been added to the mix, European collared doves, or ring necks. In the 1970’s they were shipped from Europe to the Bahamas and there, for some reason, the dealer released them all and they made the flight over to Florida and now, are populating our Country. These big birds, almost pigeon size, have taken over a lot of mourning and white wing dove habitat and are considered a nuisance, with no closed season in Texas. However, they cook up just like mourners or white wings and are excellent table fare!

The picture of a white wing and ring neck dove shows the size of each. In San Saba, today, we’ll be going after all three varieties, but experience from past hunts says that white wings will make up most of our bag.

On last Thursday, July 22, I was contacted by the folks at [The Big Wild Radio Program], currently airing on 22 stations in the upper, mid west, asking if I would do an 8 minute interview, Friday, on froggin’. After reading my September 17,2009 post on froggin’, [“What’s It Called”], Gundy and Johnny V, hosts of the program, contacted me on Friday and taped an 8 minute segment about the sport.

The segment will air on July 31 and will be posted on [The Big Wild Radio Program]’s blog on August 2 and will cover shooting, gigging, grabbing, cleaning, recipes and eatin’ of frog legs. Not having a list of the radio stations, it would be best to check out their blog.

Radio personality, hmmm?

Finally, Wednesday afternoon, getting out to go hunt a gobbler, no luck this time, but after I had been in my hide for about thirty minutes, out walked a full size, turkey hen. This was a big one, not the hens that I saw on Sunday afternoon, they were young ones, jakettes, or properly, jennies.

The big hen saw the two, hen decoys that I had put out and made a bee line for them. Right away I started snapping pictures of her.

None turned out except for this one, where she was looking in my direction, probably trying to figure what was that thing in the creek bottom, behind the cedar tree? The hen was twelve feet from me when I got this “shot”!

Having finished my taxes, when this posts, I’ll be in a different “hide” trying to lure in a gobbler.

Hope springs eternal!

As the sun was coming up on Saturday morning, April 3, I was tucked into a “hide” along a creek where last month I’d spotted turkeys roosting in the trees along the same creek. There had been nine birds but it was too far to make out their sexual proclivities, probably hens?

This morning, to whet the big birds competitive spirit I was using two decoys, a gobbler and a hen. Maybe this would draw out a suitor? No luck and by 9:30 AM the sun was up good and in my eyes so I called it quits.

Saturday afternoon I was in another hide, in a different creek bottom, behind a cedar tree, practically invisible. One hour into my hunt, around 6:30 PM, out walked two hens. They looked at my two decoys and couldn’t figure what was going on. Not being able to unlimber my camera, I froze, they fed along and walked right between the decoys and me. Holding my breath the two hens moseyed along to within fifteen feet. I didn’t move anything, even squinted my eyes, both birds looked right at me and just kept moseying! Probably if I had even blinked, both of them would have been long gone! Exciting, but no meat on the table.

Sunday, being Easter was a no hunting day, Layla and I had to attend a funeral on Monday morning and now, income taxes have reared their ugly head, so it’ll be hit and miss on the turkeys for the next two or three days.

But still, hope springs eternal.

Last year, a terrible drought stricken spring led to a poor turkey season, but two days before spring season opened, I “shot” these pictures of a nice, gobbler that responded to my calling. My “hide” was a good one, he came within ten feet of me and these were the best shots” that I had all season.

However, this morning at sun up, the 2010 spring turkey season opens in Mills County, Texas. The big, birds have been moving around and, during my scouts, I’ve heard scattered gobbling. It looks like this year the State has gotten it right, timing the opening day with the breeding season.

As this is posted, with two decoys out, I’ll be scrooched into a hide along a creek on the southeast side of my ranch. Turkeys have been roosting along this creek and maybe today I will entice a gobbler?

Hope springs eternal!

Last Friday and Saturday morning, rather than sleeping in, I greeted the sun peeking over the horizon. Each time I was in a different spot trying to pinpoint turkey movement. Friday, when the sun was half up, I heard one gobble, then on Saturday after blasting a “come here call” on my crow call, another one (probably) sounded off. Both birds were along a creek south of my property.

Later Friday morning, nervously, a deer walked out, constantly looking behind it.

Soon, here came the family group, eight all told, but they caught me moving the camera and jumped back into the thick stuff! It was almost like a deer circus!

Saturday morning, after a couple of “blows” on the crow call, a deer walked across an opening and went on its way, I thought.

Then two cows walked by and I got this “shot” of them.

Thinking that with all the movement around my spot, why not really crank down on the predator call and see what happens. After a dozen or more squeals, I noticed movement to my front, slipped the safety off of my twelve gauge, slowly raised the shotgun and what did see, but the yearling, deer peeping around a cedar tree. It continued peeping until I tried to get a picture of it, then it crossed an opening and was gone!

At least these two gobblers should stay in our area for the nest week.

This past Saturday, Tim Albee and I were invited to hunt hogs at a friends place outside of Mullin, Texas. Mullin is in Mills County, ten miles west of Goldthwaite. Tim is an E-7 on active duty in the Army and was a close friend of Brad’s. He served in C Troop, 7th Cavalry with Brad for a number of years and was with him for their deployment to Iraq in 2004/5.

After introductions, my friend drove Tim and I through his ranch, a beautiful place with full stock tanks and water running in all the creeks. Several spots clearly showed hog depredations.

This is one of the two hog traps we saw.

Stopping, before a spot where the creek had washed out the road, our host told us to cross the creek and then walk several hundred yards up the creek. After we passed a deer blind start looking for hog sign – droppings and rootings, then pick a spot with a good field of fire.

He added the hogs would come quickly down the creek, almost a natural funnel or mini canyon, and, as it turned out, our choice of 12 gauge shotguns for the job, would be just the trick, since the thick foliage and natural terrain would limit our shots to fifty or sixty yards. Tim was using 00 buck and I had chosen number 1 buck.

Here, Tim’s getting ready and loading up.

By 5:00 PM we were walking up the creek and finding a lot of hog droppings, we picked out our “hides”. Facing east, into the wind, we burrowed into the thick stuff and waited for the hogs to come by. The hogs would be heading south, down the creek and my friend had assured me that the hogs used this trail regularly.

Looking out over my field of fire, pictured, the creek is back by the green stuff and the hogs should come down from left to right, in and along the edge of the cover. But, by 6:00 PM no hogs, by 6:20, with dark approaching, we called it quits and in the twilight, walked back to the truck.

Saturday evening the hogs didn’t chose the trail where we prepared our ambush. No ambush this time out, but, there will be other times when we score big, anyway, if we shot something every time out, they’d call it shooting instead of hunting!

On February 20th I posted a story, “Bring enough Gun”, about not taking a shot at the coyote that I had called in. Between the rain, snow and cedar fever, it wasn’t until this past Wednesday afternoon, March 3rd, that I got back out to try and call up something else.

Selecting the same tree blind that I had used in the last post, I was guarding about an eighty yard, track, heading south, between two thick, copse of woods. Beginning the calling, it wasn’t long before I noticed something, definitely not a buzzard, arcing down in a graceful, not really a dive but more of a swoop, heading right towards me.

It was a big bird with a six or seven foot wingspread. At first I thought it was a Mexican eagle, but its head was dark with lighter flecks on its wings, then I surmised it was a golden eagle (Aquila Chrysaetos). It continued its swoop over me, then on out across the field, turned and caught the wind and headed north.

Locally, sheep and goats are dropping their young and these are easy pickings for winged and furry, predators. I’ve heard of red tailed hawks coming in to a game call, but never an eagle, or was this just a happenstance? If a fox, bobcat or coyote had hold of a jackrabbit, not only the rabbit but also the furry predator would become a meal for the eagle.

Keeping up the calling with the sun sinking down low, I noticed movement out in the field south of my property. Nine turkeys traipsing along the creek, then flying a few yards to roost in the small trees along the creek. As darkness approached I walked down to the fence. The birds were perched on the small branches in the tops of the trees and it never ceases to amaze me, how can those little limbs hold up a big, turkey?

In our county, spring turkey season opens on April 3rd and maybe this is an indication that this season will be much better than last’s.