I went hunting last weekend. It was maybe the shortest, relatively unsuccessful opening day of my hunting career, but it was still a fine day.
Who am I trying to kid? It was easily more successful than last year, even if I only killed one quail.
Last year, on opening day, I drove all the way to one of my favorite spots, only to realize that I’d left my shotgun back at the house. The dog was ready to go and I had her water bowl out. I think I was even wearing my hunting vest when I finally reached for the absent firearm.
Then, in my haste to make the 45-minute round-trip home and back so I could hunt, I left the water bowl at the parking area. The bowl was still there when I got back, hanging from a fence post where a game warden left it for my retrieval. On the plus side, I struck up a conversation with the warden about quail, and he sent me to what became my new No. 1 spot.
I had a good feeling about it as I drove up and a covey of quail scurried across the road in front of me to a farmer’s field of standing corn. But I didn’t fire a round opening last season.
I fired a round this year. I was about 50 yards into my first walk when Jade got birdy in some thick grass. It took her a few minutes to finally pin down the covey for a point. I stepped in, but sooner than I expected the birds flushed, and being my first opportunity of the season, I rushed both shots, missing badly.
I’ve yet to kill a bird in my first opportunity, in any season. I’m always good for a handful of misses before I settle down and start aiming properly.
It wasn’t a huge covey, maybe 10 birds. The quail fanned out into an adjacent grazed pasture that still had plenty of cover. It was a wet summer around here and it looked as though cover growth had outpaced the munching cattle.
We didn’t relocate the covey, at least not right away. So, we pressed on to an adjacent windbreak where a much larger covey hung out most of last fall. I didn’t find those birds every time I hunted here, but more times than not.
We didn’t find them this time, but then my interest was already waning. It was an odd day for the pheasant/quail opener. We haven’t yet had a frost, and a light, drizzling rain fell all day. The grass was wet, and soon, both Jade and I were soaked.
Other signs a proper frost hadn’t yet reached this part of the Great Plains: mosquitos bombarded us whenever we stopped in the grass too long, crickets made a noisy fuss in the cedar windbreaks and in the wet corners of the field, toads croaked, celebrating winter’s delay.
We worked back to the truck. Near where we first found the quail, I could hear the birds whistling the covey back into order. We worked the grass again, but Jade was unconvinced, then, as she worked across a break perpendicular to the wind, she stumbled into a pair of quail that flushed across the prairie in a graceful arc that offered a perfect chance for a double.
The only glitch was that I’d recently purchased a GPS collar for Jade. I sometimes lose her when she’s working birds, and I’ve tired of not being able to find her in the tall grass when she’s pinned down a covey.
I was looking at the GPS screen when that perfect chance wheeled past to safety.
Eventually, Jade found the reassembled covey and I killed one bird, besting my effort for last year. And that was good enough to call this year’s opener a smashing success.