This story can't compare to so many excellent days told here, but this was my best day's shooting on a dove field. It was about 1994, give or take a year, and my youngest son was dating the daughter of a country lawyer named Rowland Dye, who practiced in Augusta but lived just out of Waynesboro a very few miles. Rowland and I became friends, due to the interest our progeny had in each other, and we spent some time together.
Rowland invited me, for opening day of dove season, to be his guest at his home and sunflower/corn field about 1000 yards behind his country home. His lovely wife and he had prepared a fine lunch for everyone on the backyard lawn. Cold cuts, fresh fruit, I can't even remember it all, but a very sumptuous spread. There were about 25 shooters there, including three judges. After lunch we threw a few clay birds for warmups, then took the field about two o'clock. The field consisted of maybe 40 acres of alternating strips of corn and sunflowers, both of which had been partially run through with a silage chopper. Many, many doves.
I had taken a 26" BSS that I had recently acquired, and shot pretty well, I thought. I was placed near the middle of the field, but within sight of my host, who chose a shady spot for himself. I soon realized that killing a limit was not going to be a problem, and since, back then, the limit was twelve, I decided to pick my shots carefully, which I did. The pile began to mount by my stool, without a miss. I couldn't miss that afternoon, literally. It was along about bird number nine, I guess, that I hit another one, but not solid enough to put it right down. It was winging it's way, in a downward glide path, straight toward a very thick, and huge, briar patch. In an instant I realized that if it went into that briar patch it would be lost, and I hit it again with the left barrel, downing it. Well, the perfect average was gone, but I hung in there.
I would like to say that I made a true double, two birds with one shot (to get my perfect average back), which does happen occasionally, but I can't. I finished out my twelve bird limit without a miss, and ended up 12, for 13 shells. I actually didn't miss, but did have to shoot one twice. Highest average I ever had on a day afield.
BTW, the only man on the field that did not honor the limit was one of the judges. At least he admitted it, sheepishly.
All my best, SRH
Last edited by Stan; 07/21/16 04:50 PM.
