It was the Opening day for pheasant hunting fall of 2008. My brother Jim, my friend Brian, and myself were the only people in my hunting party. To make matters worst, it was a wet fall, so there was still a lot of corn left in the fields. We still went out the door with the hope of at least seeing some birds today.
We met up with Brian at his house in town and hopped into his truck. We drove around the country trying to spot birds at field edges. Around 8:30 we spotted one, but the field was way too big to walk with three guys so we let him go. Around ten that morning, we decided to check out a pond. The area around the pond was pretty much a marsh because of the recent rains. As we stumbled through it we heard a rustle. Right next to Jim, a rooster flew up. Brian had three shots off before my safety was off, and it was still flying. But that’s Brian’s motto, accuracy by volume. While the bird was trying to avoid Brian, I lined up my shot and took it. I dropped it. The next part was our biggest mistake.
When we should have been running over to find the bird, it got away. Instead we were having too much fun giving Brian a hard time. We found a trail of feathers but no bird at the end of it. To make matters worse, it was the only bird that we saw for the rest of the day. We were kicking ourselves for that one.
Although this day turned out to be bad, the late harvest made hunting around thanksgiving time a lot better. We did a lot better then and the weather was actually a lot nicer. Even though the day turned out to be a bad day for hunting, it was still fun because I got hang out with my friend Brian who goes to school up north and its always nice to be able to enjoy nature.
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