# Stories from past years...



## Dick Monson (Aug 12, 2002)

Went to coffee today where us old guys go and I ran into a buddy I used to hunt with. Hunted pheasants with him a lot. And of course the stories started. (maybe I told this before but I want to hear it again myself)

20 years ago we were hunting pheasants on the Cannonball in the middle of Nov. Very cold but no snow. Gray low clouds with a stiff wind and looking like a storm. Just a skiff of ice on the river edges and a light current in the channel. We were having a fine hunt in the brush along the river with our three labs. He had a young pair, well trained and full of 
p & v. We were one bird short when we came to a beaver dam across the river and it was slick with ice. He wanted to try the other side so we sent the dogs across and he skittered his way over on the dam. Don't you know the dogs put one up from some bullberry bushes and it acred high across him and he folded it with a fine shot, smack in the river. Mine retrieved it, but came out of the water on the other side. So these dogs know each other well and are competive and they are playing "catch me I have the bird". My buddy starts back across the beaver dam, when I whistled for my pup. And all three dogs hit him at the same time, which tumbled him into the down stream side. About armpit deep. The saddest thing was I had a camera and forgot to take a picture. The best thing was my smokes were dry.


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## griffman (Jan 17, 2004)

Here's one.......

About 4 years ago, I'm out with 2 buddies (co-workers) on one of the other guys' land. Late October day, sunny, hot, hunting in short sleeves.

The guy who's family owns the land, has a dog, I'm still not sure what kind of dog, but none the less it was a dog. Now this dog was not your typical hunting dog, some kind of mixed breed like a collie and a blue heeler or something! Funny looking dog!

So we are hunting, walking along, the dog has actually put up some birds for us, in fact we got our limit that day, but one flush the dog had was particularly funny.

The dog flushes a bird, I shoot, winging the bird, it hits the ground in fairly thin cover, I could see it running. I start moving quickly to where I last saw it, (the dog was not interested in the retrieve!), I over run the bird, getting about 30 feet in front of it before I see it again. One of the guys comes up from behind this bird, and the bird starts making a 20 mph bee line straight toward me!

I bend at the knees, spreading my legs out, like I'm playing defense for the Lakers, ready to jump to either side cause I KNOW this bird is not gonna run into me.

10 feet, 5 feet, 2 feet in front of me, this bird is STILL running right at me, I'm ready to make a dive, ZOOM-- the bird goes RIGHT BETWEEN MY LEGS! I'm standing there in disbelief! I bend over, looking between my legs (much like a long snapper on a football team, except I'm holding a gun). I see the bird running into thicker cover (still no dog in sight).

I stand up straight, both my buddies are laughing their ***** off!

We never did find that bird! (neither did that dog!)

Afterwards, the only thing I can think of, is, while I was bending over, I should have kept going and kissed my *** good bye....just like that ol' rooster did!


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## griffman (Jan 17, 2004)

How bout this one from this season....

My godmother(who is a wonderful lady) calls me and asks if I can take her young nephew out pheasant hunting. Being able to do something nice for her AND get a kid out looking for his first rooster, I instantly say YES! I love being around when a kid gets their first bird!

I can't get him out till the second day of season, Sunday. We're hunting public land, an afternoon hunt (I had to work til 1pm). I tell the kid the spot has probably already been hunted and warn him there may not be much action today. He understands, and is just happy to be out hunting, especially with my dog, the "Best Dog in the World" (I'm following suite with Remmi here  )

So, we're walking along, a rooster flushes wild about 30 yards in front of me off to my left, I shoot, wing him,(heck of a nice shot if I do say so myself) dog makes a nice retrieve, one in the bag. Things slow down from there, lots of hens, no roosties.

The end of the day is near, we're on the way back to the truck, one bird, none for the kid. Suddenly, Kobe's locked up, I'm thinkin, "damn, another hen", I call the kid over, "hurry, hurry", he gets in position. I walk in front of the dog (textbook stuff here), perfect scenario, a rooster hits the air right from my feet! I yell "ROOSTER, SHOOT", the kid pops a round from his single shot 20ga., he misses 

This bird is still real close, I pop a round, MISS, I take another look(this time taking my time), another shot, another miss...

I look at the kid and say, "You've just learned two of the most important lessons in hunting." He says, "What's that?" I say, "Number one, everyone misses easy shots." I pause, he say's "What's number two?" I look at him, smile and say "There are no easy shots!"


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## Dick Monson (Aug 12, 2002)

I knew a fellow in Montana whose ranch had some great pheasant hunting. Nobody seemed to do birds over there, they were all after elk and mulies, so we made the trip a few times at the tail end of season. His ranch was on the breaks, with lots of bullberry draws cutting through the fields.
There was a dry snow coming down, little grainy flakes, not much wind. My beaver dam buudy was walking the bottom, me on the top of the bank, and the rancher posting as he didn't have a dog. I stepped on a rooster. My foot was holding it's tail to the ground. Being something of a smart a. I yelled down, " watch this" and moved my foot. That rooster went from 0 to mach 1 in the first 2 feet. I missed both shots! It flew over shooter # 2 who missed 3 shots and now is heading for the rancher who borrowed a shotgun to come along. He folds it clean. There is no justice in the world. The bird hit the ground so hard it split it's breast. That baby was moving.
That same trip a few days later we were in another draw. There was more snow now and as I came thru the center there were pheasant tracks everywhere but no birds. My lab was just in front of me a few steps when he came to a washout and looked over the edge. Locked up solid, then took a jump. There was an absolute explosion of pheasants around him while he was still in the air. I can still see that. Didn't hit any that time either.


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## jamartinmg2 (Oct 7, 2004)

The missed shots stories always kill me when I think back on them. One time my dad and I were hunting geese up around Sakakawea. We were on a nice spit of land that protrudes out into the lake and had some duck and goose decoys set up in a little bay that was located on one side of the spit. Anyway.... it was a gorgous clear, blue-sky kind of day and the birds we saw flying were usually at an altitude of around 20,000 ft. it seemed. It got to be about 10 am, or so, when we spotted a small flock of geese heading our way across the water. As they approached, it became apparent that they were not terribly interested by our deeks, but didn't seem spooked by them either as the continued straight towards us. Well, I picked out the lead goose of the pack and let him get roughly within 20 - 25 yards and took a shot at him. The shot literally stopped him in his tracks. He started falling like a sack of potatoes. I then swung my gun onto another bird thinking the first one was in the bag. Before I could take another shot, the first bird suddenly revived itself, somehow, not 10 ft before hitting the ground. Seeing this, I swung my gun back to him and fired a second volley at him. It was another hit.... feathers went flying out of him and it rocked him noticably, but he kept on flying! At this point he was flying behind me, still in good range, 20 yards or so going away. I took my last shot, hitting him yet again as another wad of feathers exploded from him followed by another 5 ft. drop in altitude, but he continued flying. I watched in astonishment as the stuborn goose and its remaining companions flew off across the lake never to be seen again... by me anyway. My dad ended up with 2 birds during the time I was engaged in mortal combat with the goose that just wouldn't come down.


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## jamartinmg2 (Oct 7, 2004)

Since my last story had absolutely nothing to do with pheasant hunting I suppose I should add a pheasant story, too. Last year (2003 season) I had my golden out for his first foray to ND. He was doing pretty well, but tended to stay at my heal a bit after getting tired out. Anyway, it was our last day out, and we we were walking some nice cover alongside a slew. All of a sudden Casey... my golden, starts getting "birdy". He leads me roughly 50 to 60 yards over some fairly open ground to a nice small patch of cattails. Well, there was nowhere else the bird could be, so I am just waiting, anticipating something getting up. The dog immediately dives into the cattails and sure enough a rooster flushes. I took a bead on it and fired.... nothing. Staying calm, I line up and take my second shot... strike two... nothing. By now I've completely lost all confidence in my shooting ability but had to take my third and final shot for prides sake. I fire again.... nothing. By then my golden is out of the cattails. I swear he looked at me with that "What kind of shooting was that?" kind of look.


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## zogman (Mar 20, 2002)

I enjoy the stories, but I keyboard so bad bear with me.

The year: October 1963

The main players: Three junior boys, a beautiful sophomore blond, a 10 month old german shothair pointer.

The events: Home coming dance and/or ND pheasant opener :eyeroll:

The scene: Friday 4 pm little zoggy is getting off the school bus. Larry, Moe and Curly(the dog) not their real names, were standing by the car (not a fancy SUV). " Hey get some shells and your gun your mom said you can come to Oaks and hunt pheasants with us for the weekend" "Can't have a date with Blondie(not her real name) for the home coming dance tonight". After more exchange little zoggy calls afriend and says " if you see Blondie at the football game tonight tell her I went pheasant hunting. It was a long distance call to Blondie and that was unheard of in 1963 unless there was a death in the family or something important..

Arrived in Oaks after dark drove out of town pulled down the first dirt road we found and went to sleep. The car was a big old 4 door Buick very comfy for three sixteen year olds and a dog to spend the night.

To be continued


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## zogman (Mar 20, 2002)

Scene 2

Was awaken by elderly, when your 16 everone is elderly, farmer after sunup sometime. "What are you boys doing out here?" Well sir we drove about 150 miles last night so we could pheasant hunt. Back then our age called everone his age "sir". This gentleman then proceeded to tell us where we should try our luck for pheasants. He finished by saying if we came to his place after lunch he would go with us. This proved to be very fruitful as he had alot of birds right near his farm. He had never seen a GSP before and the dog did great for it's age. Of course at 16 and never hunted pheasants before the dog was way better than we were. Needless to say this first hunt was a great experience. We slept in the car again and hunted till late afternoon on Sunday.

Scene 3

Late for school on Monday. Poor zoggy was schuned by Blondie and most of the girls in that school for a long long time.

I think I made the right choice. What do you think??????????????


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## Dick Monson (Aug 12, 2002)

Maybe the mistake was telling her you slept with the dog. 8) When in doubt lie. I was........kidnaped........by aliens.......that wanted to go pheasant hunting.....yeah, that's it aliens.........


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## zogman (Mar 20, 2002)

Actual I had to sleep with Moe in the backseat. The dog and Larry had the front seat. :beer:


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## Perry Thorvig (Mar 6, 2002)

Luv ya Zoggy.

Good stories, guys.


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