Duckin and Dovin at the 74 Ranch

Best I remember, it was a cold, dreary day a few Januarys ago at the 74 Ranch in South Texas. Winter dove season had begun, and my son Brian was coming down to hunt with me for a few days. I had been checking the lakes for ducks and driving all over the ranch looking for a concentration of doves, but no luck. 

Dean Olson, one of our students, had called and asked if he could come down and get a lesson while I was at the ranch. While driving around the sporting clays course planning my lesson with Dean, I stumbled into a flight of mourning doves. I watched as they flew across stations 12, 13, and 14 on the sporting clays course. I checked my watch; it was 2:30. The birds were flying north to south, landing in a cornfield that had recently been plowed. I decided to sit there and watch the birds for a while to see how many there were and to pattern them, so when Brian arrived, we could come back and hunt them.

Brian arrived that afternoon in time for dinner. I told him about the doves I had found and that there were plenty of ducks for us to chase. We had not had many ducks earlier in the year, but the weather had finally gotten cold and rainy enough to push some down. In fact, Dean had asked if he could sneak in a duck hunt while he was at the ranch for his lesson. I told him I would try to hook him up with the head duck guide at the ranch, Gary Lamell. 

I mentioned to Brian that we might tag along with Dean and Gary if the duck hunt panned out. We finished dinner and went to bed, after making a plan to get up early and see if the doves flew in the morning like I had seen them that afternoon.

Morning came, and it was a cold, misty, foggy, drizzly day. I went outside to start the Polaris to let it warm up and went back in for another cup of coffee. When Brian and I came back out, the ranch manager’s black Lab, Drake, was sitting in the back of the ATV, ready to go anywhere we were going.

The three of us arrived at station 14 on the clays course, not knowing exactly where to set up because I had not seen the morning flight. We chose a spot, got set up, and waited, and waited, and waited. It got to be 8:00 a.m., and still no birds. During the wait, Brian came over, and we were talking and messing around with Drake when suddenly the dog froze, looking up into the sky. You guessed it – doves. 

Only God knows why they didn’t start flying until 8:15, but none of us cared. It took about 45 minutes for us to each get a limit, and with Drake’s help, we never lost a bird. As a father, it was a great pleasure to share something that I love to do with someone I love so much, my son Brian. I took great pride in watching doves fall out of the sky as he shot. He finished his limit with a double, and we headed back to the lodge for some hot coffee and breakfast.

We knew Dean would be coming down at noon the next day, so we decided to go duck hunting the next morning and see if Dean would like to shoot doves with us in the afternoon. Somehow, I didn’t think we would have to twist his arm too hard to get him to go. It would also be a lot warmer tomorrow afternoon, and I liked that.

The next morning came, and Drake, Brian, and I put out some decoys in a small pond to the east of the lodge. Daylight was late because of the fog, but at least it was warmer than the previous two mornings. Gadwalls and teal began falling into the decoys about five minutes before shooting time, and that next five minutes seemed like 30. Brian looked at me. I looked at my watch. Drake quivered. The big hand finally got to where it needed to be, and the shooting began. 

We had a very short but great hunt. It was one of those mornings when everything just clicked. The birds came in, the shot was called, we stood up, and the birds fell. In about 10 minutes, we had our limit. We picked up as quickly as we could and got out of there. The birds were still flying as we drove off, heading for the lodge for coffee and breakfast.

Dean arrived, and after lunch, we headed to the clays range to have a lesson and begin his competition year. Brian had mentioned while eating lunch that we had found some doves and asked Dean if he would like to join us for an evening hunt. I guess that’s why he didn’t have dessert. We had to get the lesson in before 2:30 so we could go dove hunting.

But our afternoon hunt was delayed an hour because people were shooting sporting clays where we wanted to hunt. No big deal; we just shot some clays until they got out of the way. Needless to say, most of the birds had already gotten into the field before we could begin hunting. We killed a few birds going into the field, and then they started coming out. They were headed north on a 10 to 15 mile per hour tailwind.

Man, the birds were flying high, and with that tailwind, they were moving on. We all changed our chokes to Modified and Full and grabbed some 7½s out of the vehicle. Drake had a busy afternoon keeping up with all three of us. I had to stop shooting a couple of times to take him over to the lake for a water break. The birds were flying so high and fast, every retrieve was a long one for Drake. When you hit one, it fell about 75 to 100 yards away. Challenging shooting and a warm afternoon made it a pleasure to share a hunt with Brian and Dean.

Dean is one of our students who have made the commitment to take his shooting to the next level. He is a competitive sporting clays shooter who has put in a lot of hard work and practice to get where he is. He was coming off a three-month layoff and getting ready to start his competitive season. Each year Vicki and I tell all of our competitive shooters to take some time off. Go hunting or fishing or do something else, but take a break.