There's no Kissing in Hunting

This morning I tagged along with Wayne and two of his friends on their pheasant hunt at Bong Recreation Area in Kansasville, Wisconsin.  We arrived at the parking area shortly before hunting opened at 9:00 a.m. and it was a good morning to be out walking with no wind and the temperature just over 40 degrees.  The orange sweatshirt of Wayne's that I had to wear may have been much too large, but it was great for stuffing my extra camera lenses in the big front pocket.

It was only a few minutes before Wayne discovered that his sole was coming off his boots.  Uh-Oh! Luckily they held up for the next two and a half hours, but were destined for the trash when we got back home.

Kenny's dogs were friendly but focused on getting into the field and couldn't wait for start time.  When we got back home I looked up a little information on pheasant hunting in our area.

Kenny and his "boys"

In response to the population decline of the ring-necked pheasants in Wisconsin, the Pheasant Stamp was created in 1991 to provide funds for pheasant restoration and management. The management of ring-necked pheasants in Wisconsin is in large part due to revenues generated from the sale of the Pheasant Stamp and along with countless partner dollars and efforts have managed, preserved, and restored thousands of acres of nesting and winter habitat. 

The State Game Farm stocks pheasant on private and public hunting lands.  Initially, pheasants were stocked to bolster the wild pheasant population and to provide quality pheasant hunting opportunities. Subsequent research has proven that, over time, stocked pheasants do not have the survival instincts to evade predators or hunters long enough to contribute to the wild pheasant population. Current stocking efforts aim at providing quality pheasant hunting opportunities on public hunting grounds. Pheasants are stocked weekly beginning the week before opening weekend through November on most properties.

Reggie and Wayne worked together well

The dogs were very excited and bounded tirelessly through the fields.  We had to change direction often whenever we stumbled into the path of other hunters.  One unfortunate fellow we chatted with had taken on some shot from another over-eager hunter, and two of our party felt some "rain" at one point.  I hung back with my camera and tried to be as visible yet unobtrusive as possible.  I like a great story, but I didn't want today's adventure to end with the photographer being shot.

The nice thing about pheasant hunting as opposed to fishing is that being quiet is not a necessity.  Not that I talked much, but it was nice not to have to worry about walking too loudly or thrashing through the brush too much, especially since I followed Kenny often and he seemed to have a knack for finding the brush that was full of thorns and I was surprised into saying "ouch!" a few times!

We seemed to spend the morning pushing pheasants toward all the other hunters while only having the opportunity to shoot twice ourselves.  Wayne shot at one that the dog flushed and it came up right underneath him, but he only winged it and it got away. Wayne says "no excuses", but he hasn't hunted in four years so I think he deserves a little slack!

Kenny and I heard cackling ahead of us alongside the Ice Age Trail (boy that Ice Age Trail is everywhere I go, it seems!) and when he stepped into the brush it darted out onto the trail, saw me, and took to wing toward Kenny low over the field.  He shot twice but had no more luck than Wayne. 

Kenny's German Shorthair, Moose, hasn't hunted pheasant before.  He was a rescue dog they got last year and Kenny hasn't been out hunting since they got him.  He did find some feathers in the field to try to give the dog the scent.  Moose mostly just copied what Reggie was doing and bounded around smelling things happily.

The dogs weren't the only ones who were happy.  Wayne was glad to be back out in the field, too.  He used to hunt at Bong quite a lot back when we had a chocolate lab and a springer spaniel.  Those girls got too old to hunt eventually and now are no longer with us. 

Cocoa's birds, 1994

Because our kids were small at that time this is the first time I've ever been out hunting with my husband.  At one point he was standing waiting for me and when I caught up to him I asked him if he was waiting for me so he could kiss me.  His response was "There's no kissing in hunting!"  It reminded me of Tom Hanks in "A League of Their Own" saying "There's no crying in baseball!"

It was great to get out into the outdoors for some fresh air, exercise, and an opportunity to try my hand at photographing some action shots.  Of course when the pheasant did take to wing I just stood and admired them and the fellas and dogs trying to outwit them.  Even though the guys left empty handed this morning, there were smiles all around.  And who knows, maybe there will be a pheasant or two in the crockpot yet this fall!