Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Shooting At Doves With Curdog4570

Here is the shooting at doves report for the dove hunt Gene and I did last week. Had a great time and even managed to slay some doves.

We started out planning on meeting up Tuesday afternoon. However, even though my relief arrived sooner than expected, I was still able to hang around the rig long enough to miss any chance for shooting on Tuesday afternoon. Gene had of course already made camp and I showed up in time to feed him a bit of fried yard bird purchased from the closest Church's before rolling out the pillow and blanket after setting up the cot Gene had brought along for my use.

Weather was warm enough that the light blanket I had worked well enough that I was able to get a decent nights rest without waking to the sound of my teeth clanging together. Gene woke the chickens up rooting around making coffee in the feeble light of a lantern while I was able to ignore the ruckus until the crack of dawn got loud enough and the coffee was finished.

Doves commenced to whiz by while we enjoyed the early morning sunrise and camp coffee, and we missed the opportunity at several within shooting distance so we cut short the tranquility of the morning and geared up for shooting. Gene was kind enough to bring a couple of extra shotguns for my use since I was shotgun-less at the moment. I choose an Ithaca model 37 Featherlight in 20 ga. that was identical to one I had as a kid, with the exception of the ribbed barrel shortened for a quail, the forearm of the newer, broad, squarish version different than the grooved, round forearm of mine, the magazine cap without the push through pin for extra leverage like on mine, the stock cut down for an elf, and with a sleeve recoil pad installed. Same gun, only different.


Gene Ready for Action

As is often the case, as soon as the guns appear, the game disappears. We sat for the first hour or so of recently bird-less sky's discussing which of us should wonder off into the brush to lay our shotgun down and drop our britches, as that method of lure has a nearly 100% success rate at bringing in a wild flurry of fast paced flying by doves knowledgeable in the inability of the incapacitated hunter to reach their shotgun, much less shoot from the awkward squatting position.

We chose to remain in place and sit throughout the remainder of the morning flinging #7-1/2's at the occasional passerby, even connecting once in a while to the point we collected a mess.

Gene had another place to hunt north of our current location, so we went back to camp and had a bit of late breakfast consisting of hard boiled eggs, cold chicken, chunk bologna, long horn cheese, and pieces of french bread torn from the loaf before heading out for hopefully more fertile grounds.

After arriving at the new shooting area, we drove the perimeter of an irrigation circle looking for the tank (pond, for those north of, or outside of, Texas) that was supposed to be in the area. Part of the reason for the change in location was the prairie dog town located outside the circle and the opportunity to dispatch a few of the little vermin. The Pdogs were fairly wild and weren't prone to hang around to see what we were up to since previous curiosity cost the town the lives of some of the more noteworthy citizens. In other words, they knew what was up.

Since the primary goal was doves, we left the dog town in search of the tank and maybe some doves. Gene knew of another county road that might hold the tank location so we moved out. We found the county road and proceeded on, looking for the elusive tank. The road was in poor shape and about the time we topped a hill we spotted a maintainer ahead attempting to grade the road into passable condition. At about the same time, we passed a side road that may have lead to the tank so Gene stopped to back up and promptly got stuck in the middle of the road. We wallered around long enough to get buried deep while the maintainer lumbered along in our direction. That was a good thing too, otherwise we may have been there a good while. Getting pulled free, we headed on in search of the tank and ended up back at the dog town.

Once back at the dog town, I unloaded Gene's .41 mag at one youngster who taunted me by sticking it's head just high enough above the mound for me to see the eyeball. While I had what I considered an admirable group for the range, I was never able to connect with the little 3/4� sliver of the top of the head. A round sent from the Merkel .470 NE was close enough, but low, that the front portion of the mound no longer provided cover or protection, so the little fellow wisely elected to remain underground thereafter.

Finally finding the tank, we stayed only a short while as no doves were flying, then went back to the dog town. I wanted to take one of the little fellows with the Merkel .470 NE, so I had Gene drop me off while he went ahead and set up the shooting table farther down the road. It wasn't long that I stood motionless in the wide open before curiosity got the best of a dog. After a brief eternity, the little rascal finally stood up enough that I was able to get a decent shot at 40 yards or more. The 480 gr. cast bullet connected nicely, launching the dog high enough for some decent hang time.


.470 NE Round and Cast Bullet Results


Me and The Hunted

After the .470 results, Gene came back and we again drove around the circle, both of us connecting with dogs using Gene's 6mm AI, his a good bit farther than mine, but since the dogs weren't very cooperative we went back to the tank.

Doves were flying a bit more but not at a steady pace since it was early afternoon and pretty hot. We stayed long enough that we finally got our limit just about the time the birds really started flying. It was probably just as well since growth in the area was quite high and finding downed singles was challenging to say the least, and doubles near impossible. A good bird dog sure would have helped.

We left the tank during what would have been the best shooting had we not already limited out and went in search for another dog town Gene knew about. That proved to be a futile effort since it had been too many years and much of the country had changed, so we went on to eat at good cafe Gene knew about. As luck would have it that place had closed down so we chanced it at a Mexican restaurant across the street that looked all but abandoned. That choice was decent as the food was pretty good.

We made it back to camp well after dark to a steady east wind and cooler temps. We had stopped to replenish the shotgun shell supply and I purchased a light sleeping bag to compliment the blanket I had. That again turned out to be a good choice since the wind never let up and in fact became stronger, with the temperature dropping throughout the night. I slept well after a round of leg cramps about the time I hit the sack, the kind that keep you immobile and near tears since any movement leads to another muscle knotting up, but staying still isn't an option. I managed to get out of the cot without falling into a heap and wobbled, gimped and hobbled to the outfit and drank nearly a liter of water and took a couple of aspirin.

The early morning stillness and my sleep was broken the next morning by being buzzed by a crop duster from a nearby Ag air strip, a friend of Gene's and the owner of the place we were camping and hunting on. Gene was already up and had the coffee on, cowboy coffee this time since the wind had blown the top of the filter basket away during the night. Gene mentioned that the temp was only four degrees cooler than the day before, but that it seemed much colder. I didn't find it all that much different, but Gene must have since he used his new trusty tarp for additional warmth.


Gene With His Trusty Tarp and Ever Present Pipe

Once again, daylight brought birds passing through, some close and slow enough that one or the other of us should have been able to hurl a stone or two and connect. Of course once we broke the shotguns out, the flights all but stopped. Except of course those that happened to be adept at knowing when we weren't paying attention or were preoccupied with something more important like searching for something to get the coffee grounds out from between the teeth. Even at that, we managed to down a few.

We decided to move away from camp and onto the nearby hill where we had been sitting the previous day. That move worked as planned, effectively diverting any flight of doves half a mile to the south near the highway, or a half mile to the north near the power lines and allowing us to save some of the ammo we had left. It didn't take long after to realize the dove were trying to get to the water tank down the hill opposite the camp, so we figured we would break camp, move to the tank to clean the remaining birds and maybe pick up a few more, and then get on down the highway.

That plan worked pretty well. Gene cleaned the birds we had while I tried to fend off incoming and even picked up one or two more. We both had miles to make so after the cleaning was finished we went back to the main house to say thank you for allowing us to camp for a couple of days and shoot at passing doves. It was a good time and one to treasure.


Gene Making Escape Plans

Sorry for no dead dove pics. I didn't bother to take any, and figure most here know what a pile of dead doves look like.

Gene really went out of his way to make my visit truly enjoyable in various ways from the initial invite to loaning shotguns, and providing the camp. For that I am grateful.

I'm glad I took the time to stop for a bit, smell the roses, enjoy some fine company, and do little more than watch the world go by. It doesn't get much better than that.

David

good days afield , it doesn't get any better for two nursing home patients

Good on you, gents. Wouldn't mind hunting with either of you.

I hope you killed more doves than Gene has ex wives.

Enjoyed reading of the shoot. Thanks for taking us along.

Great story and times had David & Gene!

Gene is a good man, a good host, and a good friend to have.

I'm not surprised that you had a great time.

Ed

Thanks for the kind words, all. I had a pretty good glimpse of our resident pistelero's prowess with a scattergun last year at this same place. However, he was using a new Beretta in 12 ga. which he had won at a raffle.

This year, he was trapped in Texas with all his shotguns in Wy. so I brought 3 of mine for us to use. The Browning pump in 20 ga.and the 870 in 12 ga are both fine choices for doves, and have accounted for a few over the years.

The little Mod 37 featherweight was one I bought in early 'sixties, shortly after they came out. I had the barrel cut off at the first rib post, leaving something like a skeet choke according to the 'smith who did the work.

I ain't gonna brag about the number of quail that fell to it over the years, behind some dogs that were as good as dogs get......... but I will brag about the thousands of miles I toted the little Ithaca looking at the rear end of those dogs.

After quail hunting became a rich man's game, it sat unused for years until April got to be about 12 YO. Then I had the stock shortened to fit her. I doubt it has been fired in 10 years prior to last week. I grabbed up a Limbsaver slip on pad and threw it in the pickup in case we had an equipment failure with one of the "dove guns".

Those of you who know David won't be surprised that - being a man who likes a challenge - he chose to shoot the little 37 for the majority of the hunt.

Those of you who have seen him shoot a shotgun won't be surprised to find that he killed a couple limits with it.

But..... you WOULD be surprised at the distances to some of the slain doves. Beats all I ever seen.

And......... any of y'all know of ANYONE that has killed a prairie dog with a 470 NE ?

Anyhow..... as the song goes.... I had a real good time.

FYI.. Texas has a limit on doves, but not on marriages.

That Browning 20 (BPS?) would be sweet.

Cool deal fellas. A big bonus....no rattlebugs????

Worlds better than any of the nursing homes where I've done so much hard time in the last 13 years.

Sounds like a good time!

Thanks for sharing.

Two fellows that anybody should have a good time with. I would expect a tall tale or two was told, but whether either one heard the other is another story. miles

Thanks for the kudos guys. It was fun, something more of us should take the time to do.

bea175, I ain't quite ready for the nursing home, but I can't speak for Gene, although I hope to do as well if I get to his age.

isaac, a hunt together would certainly be welcome, but any reason to get together is also welcome.

Ken, sounds like you are doing better than well, at least for the time being. Could be that you might find yourself afield at least one more time.

What was that Miles?

nursing home is where we all are heading if we live long enough. love bird hunting of any kind .

Wish you could have been there.

Curdog. Andrews had rain over the weekend before and hunting was no good. I figured y'all would just end up shooting prairie dogs after your previous poor shooting on doves there.

No sunflowers west of Andrews and the love grass is taking over. Paladin just called and said y'all had done real well. Now I wish I'd have gone up there Wed PM.

There are tons of mesquite beans west of Andrews and after it gets cold, the late season should be great. I figure ranchers in that country could lose lots of cattle this year due to all the beans.

I thought y'all were going for dove tues pm and then p dog and knew David had to hit the road shortly thereafter. It will probably be weeks now till the mud holes dry out to get the birds concentrated again at the waterholes.

me to

Looks like y'all had oddles of fun!



Bastids!

David, glad you guys had a good shoot. If you ever get out in this area of Tx. let me know we'll meet Gene at the purple onion and I'll buy the meal. But with the looks of natural gas prices, that will not happen for a while. Too much liq to look for in west Tex.
The one thing I learned about Gene, he can cook the cat fish.
David, he is the only person I have ever seen throw a quarter up in the air and hit it.

doves headed south from here last Friday when it hit 27 degrees...and snowed

geez
talk about similarities
dodge pickup
itacha model 37 rapidly becoming my favorite shotgun for doves, they are quick.
same metal chair
same pile of feathers.
and we call them a stock tank too, who says pond?
that 470 did seem to overpenetrate a little, just a little.

A very well told story, gents. Thanks for letting us in on all your fun and frivolity.

Gene is better, when he uses washers. Says using real money makes him too nervous to hit them, but he can shoot through the center of that washer every time. miles

Eyeball, part of the story that David left out was that on Tues morning, when I had the place all to myself, the doves about over run me. I SHOULD have been limited out by 8:30, but due to a faulty tracking mechanism on the Browning, it took me 'til 10:30.

Then they must have gotten word that "Deadeye David" was gonna be there Wed AM and a good many left out. I didn't know what the situation would be over by the dogtown at Welch, so I didn't call you.

And Miles, modesty demands that I admit to nicking the inside of the washer occasionally.

Before or after you shoot? miles

Great story .

Another to be added to the 'fire adventure series...

Great story; looks like an awesome time. Thanks for sharing & bringing us along!

i like to shoot a bunch more shells than necessary to kill my limit, makes for a much more enjoyable experience.