Late Season Dove Hunt

I pulled in to my parents’ driveway in New Kent, VA at 6 A.M. I pulled my 12 gauge Remington 1100 that used to belong to my Grandfather out of my back seat and put it along with my dove stool and a box of shells into the back seat of my Dad’s truck.

            My Dad walks out and we say our good mornings then get in the truck and head down to a friend of my dad’s farm in Charles City.

            It’s January 18^th. About 34 degrees outside. I usually only make it out to dove hunt in the early season in the September heat. I’m used to sweating while Dove Hunting. We pull into the field we are going to hunt. A small corn field with another one on the road behind it.

            I set up under the power line in the dark. I move some corn stalks around my stool to make a makeshift blind. All the corn is cut all the way down.

            It’s a cloudy day and the sun doesn’t come up until about 7:15. But we are set up and hoping the doves fly well.

            The first two doves I see scare me half to death. They fly low from the front field I am sitting on the edge of to the back field behind me and go back down. With the clouds in the sky and the sun barely up they really just look like dark figures but there is no denying the curvature of their wings. I swing the gun around but do not have a shot I feel good about. I look around the field. Nobody else noticed them.

            A few minutes later I look up and see another dove. I did not see it until it was flying over my head still low but on a direct line above me. I spin try and put the bead on the bird as it flies away from me and pull the trigger. Fire comes from the barrel in the dark and the bird keeps flying away.

            I like to think of myself as a pretty good shot. I do a lot of different types of hunting and like to think I shoot well at everything, but doves are definitely the most difficult to shoot and that first shot was only the beginning of my struggles.

            The birds flew consistently all day. Coming in to the field or lighting in the trees around the field. At one point three flocks totaling nearly 50 birds came into the field opposite me. A couple shots later and they had all turned before I could get a shot. There are several that come as if they are going to light on the power line right over my head. Every time I see a group of doves and pick out the one I want to shoot it seems to be the bird that dives and dodges instead of continuing straight towards me. I pull the trigger quite a few times but by the end of the hunt I only have 3 dead birds sitting under my stool.

            All this said dove hunting is not enjoyable because of how many birds you bag. It is about the teamwork in the field of communicating where the birds are coming from. It’s about a tradition and remembering one of the first things you learned to hunt. It’s about looking at your grandfather’s gun and remembering the times you did this together. And it’s about looking down the power line at your father and appreciating the fact that you still get to have all of these outdoor adventures together. If you have the chance for a late season January dove hunt I suggest grabbing your gun and your loved ones and heading out to the field.