I cant single out one day or hunt. There have been many memorable days in the field in pursuit of ducks, dove, quail, snipe, woodcock and turkey. Almost 40 years ago I hunted on a lowcountry plantation that specialized in wild quail. The game managers covey board had 86 coveys located. Covey rises only and the three guns hunted on horseback with dog and horse handlers. The course was planned to stop at noon for lunch and earlier birds killed were grilled to perfection. It was a day Ill never forget, but no more enjoyable than many other hunts on public land with an old friend and his dogs in the days when wild quail were there for the taking.
With ducks, several days stand out. One over 35 years ago was on a lowcountry freshwater pond a stones throw from the saltwater marsh. It was snowing and windy and the baldpate came in by the hundreds to our decoys throughout the morning, whistling in with set wings, with no other place to go, or so they thought. It was like being in a Chet Reneson painting. My hunting buddy on that day is now dead. Another special hunt was an afternoon with Billy when we went to a wooded Savannah River island that had small beaver ponds holding over 2,000 mallards that all got up at once and slowly drifted back in small flights to our calls and decoys. It was like a quality Stuttgart hunt in the pin oaks, only better as I didnt have to drive a 1000 miles from home. Another time was in the old rice fields 3 miles from where I sit today at work. Six of us in two boats left the landing and I was in Davids boat with Jimbo and David. The motor wouldnt start. Oh, damn same problem as the last time. Did you get it fixed? No, I thought it would be better today. I jumped in the boat with Billy and Joe and we went to the potholes in the old ricefields. It was cool, not cold, and a windy front blew in, dropping temps. Ahead of the front came flights of black ducks and mallards looking for a place to set wings and drop their feet. We never had another hunt like that one in those potholes, but David finally got his motor straight the following week. Jimbo and David missed the hunt.
There is no best hunt with turkeys. For me, turkey hunting is the main event. I enjoy the cool spring mornings, the ride from my home in the pre-dawn as I head west with the constellation Scorpius low in the southern sky riding shotgun on my left as I head to places I have hunted for over 40 seasons, all on public land. I love the taste and smell of black coffee out of my 35 year-old Nissan thermos bottle which has been a constant companion to the turkey woods for as long as Ive had it. With turkeys, the solitude during the hunt is paramount to me. It is just me and the turkey. It is not a social or team event, as is dove or snipe.
Every day I can go with my two Britts, Abby and Willa, into the huckleberries and rivercane in pursuit of woodcock is special. Last season with friends was spectacular. I hope we have more to come and I cant help but think we do.
The bottom line in my hunting is the enjoyment of the home woods and locations. While a jet plane can take me to distant woods and waters, nothing to me is as satisfying as home woods and waters where hunting and fishing can be woven seamlessly into my life at home.
Gil