One of our favorite Dove hunting spots in Arizona was on the St. John’s Indian Reservation, south of Phoenix. In the early 70’s a hunting permit was a whopping $5.00 and like $10.00 for a family and this allowed the hunters access to some great hunting.
Our favorite of favorites spot was along a grain field in thick brush that the Doves were using as a roost and rest area. The afternoon sun was to our right and the birds flew south to north, coming out of the field right over us.
Head on shots are easy. Track the bird, cover it with the muzzle, fire and follow through. The bird flies right in to the shot string yielding a clean kill and falls near the shooter. This means a lot on a hot, Arizona day!
The afternoon flight was pouring over us, heated barrels banging away, doves falling and the birds kept coming. Here comes an easy head on for me, I track and fire, puff, a clean hit and the bird rockets straight for my chest. Holding out my hand, I am going to be real cool and catch this one, but at the last moment the Dove gains a little lift, rises over my outstretched hand and smacks me right between the eyes!
The force of four ounces traveling at, I guess, 35 MPH, applied right between my eyes, knocks me down. I get up and through my broken shooting glasses, my blood and the Doves blood, I see the bird has a broken neck.
The Dove got his revenge, but $100.00 later for a new pair of shooting glasses, I’m not to be deterred, and soon, the next free afternoon finds me back at my favorite spot.
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