Missouri Pheasant Hunting

Walking up through a patch of milo we slowly but anxiously follow the dogs, waiting for something (preferably a pheasant) to take flight. Suddenly, the dogs are on something. It takes flight. The guns go up. We stop. A sparrow. We laugh and reset the safeties on our shotguns and continue on up the patch. Shortly, the dogs are again on something. We ready our guns as a rooster pops into the air and heads right over us. I slide the safety into the off position and raise my borrowed Springfield 511 12 gauge SxS into the air. I've got two rounds of Federal 12 Gauge #4 shot ready to go behind the fixed modified/full chokes. The bird is in the air and I bring the gun snugly into my shoulder. I line up the bead about a foot in front of the bird and pull the first trigger…. Nothing. It’s moving farther and I rest my finger on the second trigger for the full choke. I squeeze and the gun bucks but the bird continues off into the distant treeline. I miss my first pheasant.

My first pheasant!

 Early in January I had the opportunity to hunt pheasant in Missouri with my father and his brother. It was a spur of the moment event, something we hadn't planned but the opportunity presented itself. My uncle lives outside of Gallatin and had used a hunting service there a couple times before with his sons. So we hit up Wal-mart, grabbed a couple boxes of shotgun shells and some blaze orange and hit the road. The outfitter we used has a farm of sorts where they raise pheasant. We paid for ten birds and our licenses and then followed them out to a field. We waited patiently as they dropped the birds randomly throughout the field and then waved goodbye. We let the dogs, Danner and Buck, out of the truck and they immediately started sniffing around. They knew what the next few hours held.

Two dogs... and Danner & Buck.

Grabbing our gear we began anxiously loading shells into our vests and lastly into the guns. My dad had not hunted pheasant since he was younger, and this was my first time. My uncle was not going to be shooting today, just controlling the dogs. So we started toward the first plot where we had seen them drop a bird. I’m almost shaking with excitement. This is a completely different experience than hunting dove and quail in my native Arizona, but somehow familiar. My father and I used to hunt birds quite often back home, but upon turning 18, moving out, and getting married, I didn't have as much free time anymore. This was exactly what I needed. Quality time with my dad in the field. It brought back so many memories including the time it took him 4 shots to take a quail!

I was probably 11 or 12 at the time and we were out hunting quail. My dad carried his monster Winchester 120 (it was a monster to me at the time with its 28” barrel) while I lugged around an H&R Pardner in .410 bore that I had received Christmas two years earlier. So a bird took flight and my dad fired off his three rounds at the bird…. and missed all three! He quickly grabbed my H&R and with that final shot took it down. It was a good laugh; something I still harass him about to this day.

5 pheasant and 1 dog. Not a bad day.

But not on this day. No, my dad put me to shame with the first two pheasant, putting them down with a single shot from his brother’s Remington 870 Wingmaster 20 Gauge. And then there was me blasting away with both barrels of the old Springfield like ammo was free. Luckily I got into my groove, caught up and eventually passed his total: 5 to 3. We celebrated that night with pheasant breast, mashed potatoes, and corn. It was a day not wasted, and I brought some feathers back for my wife to use for decorations. Unfortunately that trip had to end, but I knew it wouldn't be our last.

Father and son.

Whether it is hunting birds back home or hunting those majestic pheasant in some field in Middle-Of-Nowhere Missouri, I will always cherish my outdoors trips with my father. I’m fortunate that he is still in my life and I’m sure we will have many more outings like our pheasant hunt in the future.  They were truly some of the best times of my life and I hope that one day I can take my children out on hunting trips just like my dad did with me.