doublegunshop.com - home Forums General Discussion DoubleGun BBS @ doublegunshop.com Kansas Prairie Chickens

When I am in company of my dogs they make me a better man. Few men ever went astray following a dog. And I love both the blazing energy of a young dog learning his craft almost as much as I do love watching a senior dog working. It is just sad when you watch an old friend hunt because you can almost feel time running out for him and you know yours is going fast to.

Yeah, it's part of the turning of life.
That part of sitting on a tailgate, being transported to another field is all part of sharing the love.
You guys have me wanting to reload the truck, and head west. I just got back from Sharpie hunting last night.

Maybe stop in the nursing home in Strong City, and see old Paul.

Do you see the glass as half full, or half empty? For me, half full. When I am in the field I never think about how old I am, or how much time I may or may not have left. I just thrill in the moment, thank God above for my blessings and health, and grin like an old mule eating briars. I fully expect to kill a limit of doves on my 100th birthday .......... 35 seasons from now. Maybe even get to shoot a mess of Kansas prairie chickens between now and then.

Life is good, SRH

Amen brother Stan! Half full indeed. I'm nearing 70 and have just become interested in seeing a bear in the woods. Season's over for the year down here, but I still want to lay eyes on one.

I wonder if golfers get that same feeling? We're blessed indeed not to have to find the answer to that question...Geo

Stan, my father hunted Doves until he was 90. Took a limit of doves with a 16 Fox I loaned him, with less than a box of shells and vision which just passes a drivers test. He watched birds for nearly an hour before he loaded the gun. Figured out his area which he could kill and recover birds easily. Then it was slow steady shooting until he had his 15 bird limit with all birds recovered. I hope I am still alive and able to shoot Skeet at that age or better yet drive without scaring the He!! out of my family and passengers.

I remember you telling us about your Dad, and that dove shoot. It is an inspiration to me.

Eddie Robinson was at the game last night in Cleveland. He will be 96 next month, the last surviving member of the '48 Indians team, that won the Championship. Looked like his wife beside him. They both looked really fit.

It's doable!!

SRH

My Grandfather, who was raised in the Nebraska Sandhills, told me "If You wanted to get some "chickens," you just picked up your shotgun and walked the hills."
As a lad in the 1950's..I worked there in the summer, and he would say to Grandma: "Mom, the chickens are ready." What he meant was the young Prairie Chickens were big enough to eat. She would say "Bring me five." So...he would take me as the fetcher, and shoot them with a .22. Then clean them, and we would have "Chicken" for dinner next day. It seemed they were much "tamer" in the '50's. But that is probably an old man talking.
Sam Ogle, Lincoln, NE (Used to live in the Sandhills.)

they are still pretty easy to shoot off the roads with a .22 if that is your thing. I am off this morning to go watch em again. I am seeing lots of roosters as well, looks like this will be a good year overall..

Sam, great account. Thanks for sharing. Gil

Pleased to read of good populations and .22s on the prairies. As nine-year-old in early 40s, hunting with my father northwest of Saskatoon, I'd brace on the car hood and pop them with a bolt Mossberg 46B, which I still have.