"Nope. That's two of them."
10-21-2005, 10:28 PM
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Join Date: Nov 2004
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Posts: 15
"Nope. That's two of them."
You guys won't believe this one.
Last month dove season opened in Texas. Being a transplanted Kansan who is more accustomed to chasing his birds through thick cover than sitting on his lawn chair waiting for the birds to find me, I've never seen dove season as much more than a social event that just so happens to require the occasional trigger pull. But after taking a few Texans back home to hunt pheasants last year, they returned the favor by taking me dove hunting up near the Panhandle.
While the season officially opened on a Thursday, we didn't make it up to the ranch until Friday night. Saturday morning,fiveof us made the 3-mile drive into the pasture to hunt. By first light, the birds started flying along with a number of spent hulls and I finally realized just how enjoyable a good dove hunt can be. The fact that I was finally able to test out the new Citori I purchased over the summer played a major role in my excitement. Now I know why O/U owners are so loyal to them; a good one will change your outlook on life.
By mid-morning, the birds finally shut down and our group regathered to tally the morning's effort. A total of 32 birds were taken by our group of five hunters (I took eight but missed twice that many). As we're huddled around the truck's tailgate, we begin to clean our birds.
"Who brought the ziplocks?"
We froze. In our excitement to hit the field, we all forgot to bring baggies to hold our cleaned birds. Not only do I usually carry a box in the truck, but I typically stick a few in my back pocket for situations just like this. However, this morning I didn't drive nor did I grab a box of ziplocks along with my shells. That's when someone found an old Wal-Mart plastic bag in the back of the truck.
We knew it was illegal. Not only must each hunter transport his own harvest, but he must also clearly mark on the bag a) his name and b) the date. I have hunted with this group for well over five years now, and know each one of them to be law-abiding hunters who give the rest of us good names. I also knew we didn't have much of a choice. We had to throw all of our birds together into one bag. Besides, we were less than three miles from the ranch house and would be there in less than two minutes. The chances of bumping into a game warden in that time were virtually zero.
See where this is going?
We cleaned the birds and, as a precaution, jotted down the name of each hunter and how many birds he took on a gas receipt. Then we jumped into the truck and slowly drove downwhat passes for a dirtroad in the Panhandle.As weslowlydrove around the bend,we came face-to-face with two drab-greenpickup trucks.
"Uh, is that the game warden?"
"Nope. That's two of them."
We stepped out of the truck and we were approached by two of Texas' finest. Good Copsmiled as he asked us to show our hunting licenses, while Bad Cop sternly wanted to check shotgun plugs and count birds. That's when we explained the situation and Bad Cop immediately went for his citation book.
I produced the receipt we had showing who took what and thatwe were less than 2 minutes froma mesquite-fueled dove roast. Good Cop looked us over and said "you have15 seconds to explain why we shouldn'twrite you each a ticket".
"Sure, we may have violated the letter of the law, but we didn't break the spirit of it. We were all well within our limit, wrote downwho took what, even picked up our spent hulls. Those withpumps used plugs,everyone has a license, no one here has ever been cited for anything and, as a side note, you're both very handsome men."
That joke broke the ice andeven made Bad Cop smile. Becausewe didn't lie about how many birds we took, they let us off with a written warning (and saved each of us a $100 fine). In over 20 years of hunting, it's the first one I've ever received from agame warden. All because we were stupid and forgot the ziplocks. So this season, do yourself a favor. Pack accordingly.
PS.The game wardens told us a story that should make your blood boil. They stopped three hunters from Oklahoma on Opening Day. A quick bird count showed they were in possession of 115 doves. THAT'S 70 OVER THE LEGAL LIMIT. Because the mourning dove is a migratory bird, it's federally protected; therefore fines are set by the federal government. Each hunter received a flat $500 fine plus a $30 fine for each bird taken over the 15-bird limit. Do the math and it comes out to $2600 per hunter. Bad Cop said he took a little satisfaction in seeing two of the poachers cry. I would have taken more satisfaction in seeing thoseidiots handcuffed in the back of his truck.
Last month dove season opened in Texas. Being a transplanted Kansan who is more accustomed to chasing his birds through thick cover than sitting on his lawn chair waiting for the birds to find me, I've never seen dove season as much more than a social event that just so happens to require the occasional trigger pull. But after taking a few Texans back home to hunt pheasants last year, they returned the favor by taking me dove hunting up near the Panhandle.
While the season officially opened on a Thursday, we didn't make it up to the ranch until Friday night. Saturday morning,fiveof us made the 3-mile drive into the pasture to hunt. By first light, the birds started flying along with a number of spent hulls and I finally realized just how enjoyable a good dove hunt can be. The fact that I was finally able to test out the new Citori I purchased over the summer played a major role in my excitement. Now I know why O/U owners are so loyal to them; a good one will change your outlook on life.
By mid-morning, the birds finally shut down and our group regathered to tally the morning's effort. A total of 32 birds were taken by our group of five hunters (I took eight but missed twice that many). As we're huddled around the truck's tailgate, we begin to clean our birds.
"Who brought the ziplocks?"
We froze. In our excitement to hit the field, we all forgot to bring baggies to hold our cleaned birds. Not only do I usually carry a box in the truck, but I typically stick a few in my back pocket for situations just like this. However, this morning I didn't drive nor did I grab a box of ziplocks along with my shells. That's when someone found an old Wal-Mart plastic bag in the back of the truck.
We knew it was illegal. Not only must each hunter transport his own harvest, but he must also clearly mark on the bag a) his name and b) the date. I have hunted with this group for well over five years now, and know each one of them to be law-abiding hunters who give the rest of us good names. I also knew we didn't have much of a choice. We had to throw all of our birds together into one bag. Besides, we were less than three miles from the ranch house and would be there in less than two minutes. The chances of bumping into a game warden in that time were virtually zero.
See where this is going?
We cleaned the birds and, as a precaution, jotted down the name of each hunter and how many birds he took on a gas receipt. Then we jumped into the truck and slowly drove downwhat passes for a dirtroad in the Panhandle.As weslowlydrove around the bend,we came face-to-face with two drab-greenpickup trucks.
"Uh, is that the game warden?"
"Nope. That's two of them."
We stepped out of the truck and we were approached by two of Texas' finest. Good Copsmiled as he asked us to show our hunting licenses, while Bad Cop sternly wanted to check shotgun plugs and count birds. That's when we explained the situation and Bad Cop immediately went for his citation book.
I produced the receipt we had showing who took what and thatwe were less than 2 minutes froma mesquite-fueled dove roast. Good Cop looked us over and said "you have15 seconds to explain why we shouldn'twrite you each a ticket".
"Sure, we may have violated the letter of the law, but we didn't break the spirit of it. We were all well within our limit, wrote downwho took what, even picked up our spent hulls. Those withpumps used plugs,everyone has a license, no one here has ever been cited for anything and, as a side note, you're both very handsome men."
That joke broke the ice andeven made Bad Cop smile. Becausewe didn't lie about how many birds we took, they let us off with a written warning (and saved each of us a $100 fine). In over 20 years of hunting, it's the first one I've ever received from agame warden. All because we were stupid and forgot the ziplocks. So this season, do yourself a favor. Pack accordingly.
PS.The game wardens told us a story that should make your blood boil. They stopped three hunters from Oklahoma on Opening Day. A quick bird count showed they were in possession of 115 doves. THAT'S 70 OVER THE LEGAL LIMIT. Because the mourning dove is a migratory bird, it's federally protected; therefore fines are set by the federal government. Each hunter received a flat $500 fine plus a $30 fine for each bird taken over the 15-bird limit. Do the math and it comes out to $2600 per hunter. Bad Cop said he took a little satisfaction in seeing two of the poachers cry. I would have taken more satisfaction in seeing thoseidiots handcuffed in the back of his truck.
Kurt.
