I had the opportunity to visit my wife's hometown of Reno, Nevada over the Labor Day holiday and catch a quick day hunt for Mourning Dove. Reminiscent of my former years hunting dove after class in high school in northeast Nevada, this isn't your typical dove hunt composed of chairs and coffee sitting on the edge of fresh harvested grain fields taking sporting pass shots at flights of the those little dive bomber aerial acrobats. No, this is walking roads and jumping springs, waiting for dove to alight and then stalking them praying they don't flush out of range.
Spot and Stalk dove hunting... This method is born out of necessity, because like clock work, August 31st closes with a freezing night and September first comes having already said farewell to the great dove flights of the summer just past. When trying to explain this method to people from other areas they typically respond with the quizzical dumbfounded look - "Why all that effort? They're
just dove!"
Just dove? Like its
just September? Like its
just nearly hunting season? Like its
just getting frigid cold in the morning causing elk to sing, the leaves to change, and my blood to boil? Yes they are just dove. And its just hunting. Its hard to reduce any activity that takes me into the field with a gun in hand and dog at side. I guess hunting is in my blood - what can I do? My compadres Joe and Mike, who are also the proud owners of a couple late November Coues deer tags, make for fine field partners, and though our shooting was mutually
horrible, we were able to bag nearly a full limit between the three of us.
This is Bandit, and while he looks like a cow-dog, don't be deceived - this is one hard hunting, dove retrieving bird dog! He made several (10 or more?) retrieves on our 24 bird day. Not only that, but he has a great humility that is all but absent from the more traditional breeds of pointers and gun dogs. He'll gladly bring a dust feathery dove to hand where most breeds would simply sit and look at the bird with disdain. This was my first meeting with Bandit, and it was a privilege to hunt with him!
Our other four legged companion was Britt, a liver on white tenacious little Springer. Britt and I have a history that goes back a good while, I was there when her owner Mike picked her out from among her litter mates, and I had the privilege to watch a great deal of her training. She does well on dove, but its the hill partridge, or
Chukar, that she absolutely excels on. Unfortunately, Chukar season will open in Nevada while I am in Arizona this year, and I shall have to stave off the withdrawals on some Gambels quail and glassing for Coues deer. I suppose there are worse things in life!
The flush
The swing
Look at Britt's expression as both gun reports yield no bird!
Another miss!
Western Nevada
Los Scantalopes!
The best seat in the truck
Just dove? Like its just September? Like its just nearly hunting season? Like its just getting frigid cold in the morning causing elk to sing, the leaves to change, and my blood to boil? Yes they are just dove. And its just hunting. Its hard to reduce any activity that takes me into the field with a gun in hand and dog at side. I guess hunting is in my blood - what can I do? My compadres Joe and Mike, who are also the proud owners of a couple late November Coues deer tags, make for fine field partners, and though our shooting was mutually horrible, we were able to bag nearly a full limit between the three of us.
Our other four legged companion was Britt, a liver on white tenacious little Springer. Britt and I have a history that goes back a good while, I was there when her owner Mike picked her out from among her litter mates, and I had the privilege to watch a great deal of her training. She does well on dove, but its the hill partridge, or Chukar, that she absolutely excels on. Unfortunately, Chukar season will open in Nevada while I am in Arizona this year, and I shall have to stave off the withdrawals on some Gambels quail and glassing for Coues deer. I suppose there are worse things in life!
