What comes to mind when the Labor Day weekend approaches? Do you think of a well-deserved day off, and a long weekend reprieve from the constant grind and harassment of emails and deadlines? Are you consumed with the first weekend of college football, with festivities including Bloody Marys, grills filled with pork shoulders and brisket, skewers of shrimp, and bowls of boiled peanuts? Are you standing behind the booth at ESPN’s College Game Day awaiting the first kickoff of the season, anticipating many more games over the next three months in hopes your team will make the playoffs? These thoughts are mouth-watering for sure, and though I embrace each of them, something else tops this list for me.
The Labor Day weekend also signifies the beginning of the fall hunting season, specifically, dove season. Standing amid dried sunflowers with shotgun in hand, and life-long friends sharing the experience, defines the true meaning of what many of us long for and anticipate for much of the year. Dove hunting, in many respects, is like a long-awaited homecoming. This is the time when friends get together to celebrate not only our hunting heritage, but to also share the past beloved memories of hunts gone by and in many cases memories of friends and family members that are no longer here to experience the slap of the shotgun, the smell of burned gunpowder, and the taste of a fine bourbon after the hunt.
Decades of hunting, and generations of sportsmen and sportswomen are represented at these events in the field. Both laughter and tears are exuberated as past stories are told and new memories are made. Stories like soggy fields so wet from rains that boots were sucked from hunters as the gumbo-laden soils grabbed the footwear and held tightly like steel traps to the point that you couldn’t be freed. Miraculous shots that were made in the past will be re-lived. Conversely, those easy, chip-shots that were missed will also be re-lived, much to the chagrin of those that only had empty hulls to show for their efforts. No need to fret, for we have all had our day in the sun, and we have all suffered from the woes of defeat. It is all part of the experience and that’s what makes it special.
With the onset of hunting season, a few housekeeping rules are in order. Make sure you have renewed your hunting license and familiarize yourself with any new regulations. For many youngsters, this will be the first time they will get to experience the great outdoors and participate as hunters. Make sure they have completed a hunter education course if they are of age. I would hate to see a young hunter be reprimanded for not having the required certificate. Keep in mind, this falls upon us as parents and mentors to make sure they are in compliance with state and federal laws. We want them to have a wonderful experience in the field and not leave the hunt with a negative connotation of the sport. Remember, these youngsters are the future for hunting and fishing. We should strive to make them true ambassadors for what has given us so many enjoyable days in the field.
Familiarize yourself with what constitutes a “legal” field to hunt doves over. There are guidelines posted on wildlife and fisheries websites that fully explain what you can and cannot do regarding prepared fields. Repeated applications of wheat and other fall seeded grains are not allowed to be hunted over. I won’t get into the weeds regarding what is legal and not legal, but I invite you to do your research and make sure you are in compliance with the law. Our conservation officers do a remarkable job protecting and ensuring the future of our wildlife and fisheries. Please support them in their efforts. Remember, they work diligently to ensure that we have opportunities for decades and generations to come to enjoy our natural world. Thank them for what they do.
I remember standing alongside my dad during dove hunts before I was old enough to shoulder a shotgun. I was his official retriever. When he folded a bird, I would dash out to bring him the prize with as much enthusiasm as a champion Labrador retriever. I remember the aroma of the spent hull as the smoke drifted downwind. Even today I fondly remember the smell, and I think of Pop each time I pick up an empty shell. I would collect the feet from the cleaned birds and take them to school and sell them. I believe the statute of limitations has expired for possibly selling game, but the story is worth telling. I would sell the feet for three cents apiece or two for a nickel. I did pretty good back in the day as a first grader. Mrs. Barker overlooked my little business, but I brought my coins home each time I had something to sell. It is still hard to believe that her husband was my mentor and had a great influence regarding my career in entomology and agricultural consulting. One never knows where the outdoor world will take you.
I longed to finally take to the field with my own shotgun and fill my sack with doves. My dad was standing by my side when I folded my first dove with my little .410 scattergun. I remember the exact details in Cato, Miss. on Mr. Mack McLaughlin’s cattle farm. Three doves in a line flew past, as I shouldered my gun. I can still recall the event as if it happened yesterday when the lead bird fell. I retrieved my prize and held the bird in my lap all the way home. When I showed my mother, she seemed as excited as I was. She immediately pulled out a skillet and with a little flour and salt and pepper, she prepared my dove that was fit for a king. I was hooked from then on.
There are so many wonderful experiences that can be realized from a dove hunt. I invite you to explore these opportunities, but more importantly, I invite you to share them with your children and grandchildren. I would be willing to wager that they will find as rewarding as you do.
Until next time, enjoy our woods and waters and remember, let’s leave it better than we found it. jeff.north@northag.net
