Shells and Shotgun. There weren't any fancy side by sides in the field that day. Just good ol' blue collar shotguns. Mine says Sears and Roebuck on the barrel.

Saturday was opening day of dove season in Alabama. Due in no small part to my fly fishing addiction, I had not been dove hunting in around a decade. In the past, it was a yearly ritual marking the symbolic, if not the astronomical, beginning of autumn. Dad, my younger brother, and I would travel to the corn fields near Stevenson, AL; walk a quarter mile through the muddy, freshly picked field; waste a half hour playing with the antenna on the boom box until Eli Gold’s voice came in crystal clear from the day’s Bama game; and spend the day fruitlessly filling the sky with lead in the vain hope of harvesting a limit of doves for the first wild game of the season. Despite its obvious redneck attributes, or perhaps due to them, it was marvelous fun. Once infected by the fly fishing bug, however, my days spent afield hunting dropped gradually every year until I wasn’t hunting at all. Before Saturday, I hadn’t been hunting for anything in better than three years.

I have trouble putting my finger on what exactly is the source of dove hunting’s fun, but I think mostly it has to do with getting to legally fire a large gun a lot. I’ve never enjoyed hunting for the killing aspect. In fact, I’m saddened every time I take a game animal, or a fish either for that matter. There are three competing emotions at play here. There’s the adrenaline rush that comes from the kill, the thankfulness for being blessed with a successful hunt, and the sadness that comes from the loss of a beautiful and graceful creature. I’m certain I’m flattering myself by making this all sound more complex than it really is, but there you have it.

Dixie waits in vain for a dove to fall. This was Dixie's first dove hunt. She was so excited she ran herself half to death in the oppressive heat and humidity.

Okay, enough of that nonsense. What I meant to say is, I was really looking forward to hitting the field again. Back in the day, I wasn’t a bad shot. Not great, but not bad either. Time to see if I still had it, and I must say I was looking forward to a hearty meal of fried dove breasts. The central problem of dove hunting is finding a good place to hunt, a problem assisted greatly by the fact that my brother’s new mother-in-law owns an excellent dove field on top of Sand Mountain. Drake, Insane and I arrived early to ward off any poachers and stake out the good spots. We grabbed a quick bite from the Section Dairy Bar and hit the field. Things were slow until about an hour past noon (the Alabama dove season doesn’t open until noon on the first day). From then until nearly dusk the action was quick and furious. Drake had his limit within two or three hours. Insane and I, well, we shot a bunch. In fact we shot so much that it began to be embarrassing. By the end of the day, we had each shot around one hundred times. The final tally? Six for me, four for Insane. I got two of mine after Insane left, so we both shot equally badly. The limit on doves? 15. Luckily for me, several of the guys didn’t want to clean their doves and kindly gave them to me. The next day we got that hearty feast of wild game.

Dixie has Insane's back. Yeah, right. She didn't sit still for two seconds, and even when she did, she didn't help us spot any birds.

About the poor shooting, Insane and I decided it wasn’t such a bad thing. I mean, if you so completely dominate a sport that it’s no longer challenging, it sort of loses its appeal. Who wants to go out and catch thirty 20″ trout every outing? Sure, at first it would be a blast, but it would soon wear thin. If every time you went out you got a deer, a limit of ducks, squirrels, doves or whatever, you’d grow tired of it. You’d certainly be a great provider, but unless you’re a primitive man struggling to feed the tribe, you’re likely into outdoors sports for something more than simply providing food. You’re in it for the challenge. You’re in it because there’s that vast (infinite in our case) sea of things to learn and improve upon stretching out in front of you. And so Insane and I have decided that we were the superior sportsmen in that field. We’re the ones who truly love the sport. We care enough about dove hunting that we don’t want to shoot as well as all those other guys. We care enough about fly fishing that we find pleasure in bungling those difficult casts. I mean, who wants to be awesome? Awesome is so last year.

Take care,
Nathan

As if I don’t have enough things going on, I recently bought a new puppy. She is an 11 week old black lab who goes by the name “Dixie”. I bought her primarily because I have always wanted a black lab, but I am currently training her to be a bird dog. Things are still in the initial training stages, however I will keep you all updated on her progress. It doesn’t really help matters any seeing as how I have only been duck hunting a handful of times. As far as fly fishing is concerned…I will definitely look more professional with an official “fishing dog”. I wonder if she will ever learn to retrieve trout….hhmmm…..now that’s a thought!

This was almost an article on how success isn’t determined by filling bag limits or trips to the taxidermist, but let’s face it. No matter how you determine success there will always be a certain sense of blessing and accomplishment when you tag that trophy or catch that “hawg”. If it wasn’t exhilerating we would probably just stay at home and watch tv or whatever else people do. So what do you do when you find a season ending without that exhilerating thrill of victory? You count your blessings, because successful or not I guarantee you were blessed.

When you’re done counting, look back over your season. What were your goals? What would have made your season a success? Did you prepare well? Did you scout hard? Did you look over your journal? You are keeping one of those, right? Did you put yourself in the right place? Did you pick the right days to be afield? How could you make better judgement calls in the future on when and when not to go? Did you change up your methods? You get the idea. If you want to improve on your skills you’ve got to ask yourself what you may be doing wrong.

The way you finish may very well determine the success of your next season. If you didn’t scout enough then hit the woods now while the sign is still fresh from this season. Maybe you got in a rut of bad fishing trips, but when you look back you find you were also in a rut with your methods. Examine yourself. It’ll do you good, and I think you’ll find this true in all of life and not just your hobbies.

Best of luck,
Drake

Winter months can be a great time for finding spring and summer hot spots. While trout fishing in many areas of the country can be a year round affair, warm water fishing slows down drastically during the winter months. This opens the door to many other opportunities such as hunting, fly tying, and reading a good book while sipping a hot cup of coffee. It may not be impossible to catch warm water fish in the winter, but it is more difficult. Why not do some scouting and find some hotspots for the spring.

In the winter months, the water level is at perhaps the lowest of the year. This is a good time to bundle up and find some good water. While the water is at a low point, you will be able to see the actual stream flow. This will allow you to distinguish between “pools” of water with no flow and “channels” where the water will flow during the summer months. Once spring arrives, the water level will increase greatly which to the eye will look like a normal large body of water. If you have done your homework in the winter months, then you will be more prepared and will be able to read the water better. You will be able to distinguish the dead water from the deeper holes where you will most likely catch that record largemouth bass in the hot summer months.

Another advantage of scouting water at low levels is finding structure. No matter what species you are after, they all have one thing in common…STRUCTURE. It is a proven fact that fish relate to structure not only for protection but also as an ambush point for food. Once spring arrives and the fish move into the shallow flats for food and spawning, structure will be a key target in finding fish. This can separate a good day of fishing from an excellent day of fishing. . (more…)

Conquering Target Panic and Other Mental Problems

Pick any given day in autumn and you’ll likely find me stuck in the office just like the rest of the year, but while my body is in an office chair my mind wanders the woods of Northern Alabama in search of that perfect tree for bow season. If I am lucky I will get to enter the woods ten or so times with my stick and string. Alabama has very liberal hunting seasons, but I also enjoy other hobbies and refuse to neglect my family in search of a deer. Still there is something about that handful of days that causes my soul to stir and my wallet to empty. I figure more of us are in this camp than we realize. I have this theory that the majority of money spent on outdoor gear is expended by those of us who get to use it the least. With that said, it is one of my goals to find ways for me and you to make up for lost time. I consider time to be the one factor that distinguishes the succesful from the frustrated. Seasoned advice can take years off of the learning curve if you will apply it. However, there are a few things you should remember. You must know the land. No advice I can give you will tell you what terrain features your property might hold, and you can’t expect to be accurate with a bow if you never pick it up.
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