Better late than never - 11/09/22
Brother was too busy to go with me Saturday. He went to TOTALLY the wrong side of the property yesterday (didn't ask me........whadda ya do with them ???)
So I text him last night and ask him if he's going out today. "At some point" is what I get. I told him that "some point" needed to be 0-dark:30 and exactly WHERE he needed to be standing when the birds woke up. That's when he stopped texting me.
So around 1:30 this afternoon, I texted him did he go out ?? He texted back he was out right then. So I called him. He was headed toward the right direction. Just not how I'd have gone about getting there, but.......... Told him to walk 5 steps and listen for 5 minutes and repeat.
Apparently he can follow instructions at times. Hour and a half later he texted me a pic. About 100 yards from where we had ended the phone conversation, he cleared a rise on the ridge and at the far end of a flat (150 yards) was a gob of birds. Probably about 25, he said.
All he could do was sit it down against the nearest tree and go to work. Hit his box call (Steve Kimble purpleheart/mahogany Cost-style) and got some immediate responses. To dispense with the entire play-by-play, 30-45 minutes later, the whole flock had worked into gun range and the first head with a clear path back to his red-dot is now wearing his fall tag.
So I text him last night and ask him if he's going out today. "At some point" is what I get. I told him that "some point" needed to be 0-dark:30 and exactly WHERE he needed to be standing when the birds woke up. That's when he stopped texting me.
So around 1:30 this afternoon, I texted him did he go out ?? He texted back he was out right then. So I called him. He was headed toward the right direction. Just not how I'd have gone about getting there, but.......... Told him to walk 5 steps and listen for 5 minutes and repeat.
Apparently he can follow instructions at times. Hour and a half later he texted me a pic. About 100 yards from where we had ended the phone conversation, he cleared a rise on the ridge and at the far end of a flat (150 yards) was a gob of birds. Probably about 25, he said.
All he could do was sit it down against the nearest tree and go to work. Hit his box call (Steve Kimble purpleheart/mahogany Cost-style) and got some immediate responses. To dispense with the entire play-by-play, 30-45 minutes later, the whole flock had worked into gun range and the first head with a clear path back to his red-dot is now wearing his fall tag.