WHITE-WINGED WONDERFUL

The Kansas dove opener is a season I've always cherished.  It signals a time to get together with friends and kick off the fall hunting seasons.  And my anticipation this year would be no different and despite not even firing a shot it may have been my most memorable ever.

My 15-year-old nephew, Dylan, has fallen head-over-heels in love with hunting and fishing.  His parents had signed him up for a couple special youth deer hunts near their home in Topeka and he killed a doe on each hunt.  And he's killed a couple turkeys, too.  However, he's never hunted flying game but was more than anxious to try when I suggested he come down to hunt with his cousins and I. 

He didn't waste any time and started practicing his wingshooting the week before coming down.

"Hey Uncle Marc, I broke 18 out of 20 clay targets last night," Dylan said in a cell phone call. 

"Really?  Were they still sitting in the box?" I kidded him.

I told him that was a great start but warned him that doves might be just a bit more sporting.  He found out opening morning that statement would prove very true. 

Dylan and one of my boys, Cody, and I headed out to a KDWPT managed sunflower field.  My other twin, Brandon, had opted for a KU football game with one of his friends instead.  Ouch.  I mean the fact he cheers for KU, not that he didn't go with us (I'm a K-State alum if it's not obvious).  We arrived to find the field surrounded by others with the same idea so we eased into position.

I had stools for Dylan and Cody and they would sit in front of me with their 20 gauge shotguns.  I didn't plan to hunt but wanted to stand behind them and just make sure they were safe and took good shots while providing a bit of wingshooting instruction.  As it got light shots rang out and both boys got excited. 

Cody was first on the board and I held his gun as he ran to his first downed bird of the season.  He was all smiles on the way back and grabbed his gun and sat back down in the ready position.  Both boys were getting plenty of shooting and Cody managed to connect on another five birds while Dylan was still looking for his first one.  He'd never boast or mention it but I think Cody was quite proud of himself in front of his older, by a couple years, much larger cousin. 

"So how do these doves compare to those clay targets?" I asked Dylan.

"A LOT HARDER!!" was his reply laughing. 

We had been seeing a few white-winged doves mixed in with the normal mourning doves.  A single white wing came wheeling by and Dylan finally connected on his first bird and ran to pick it up.  I was probably more excited than Dylan and Cody offered his congratulations, too.  It took him about a box of shells to get his first bird, but the smile on his face was worth every shot.  I told him I'd shot hundreds of doves and never SEEN a white wing, let alone shot one.  I think that made his first bird ever even sweeter.

Dylan was a quick study.  His next empty box of shells had eight birds laying beside it and he added another white-winged dove.  He listened to what I said and learned quickly about swinging, keeping both eyes open and on the target.  I was proud of him.  Cody must have been listening as well as the most birds he'd killed prior to this year was five.  He shot a limit (15) of doves with about two boxes of shells and he, too, killed a white-winged dove. 

The boys talked non-stop on the way home and couldn't wait to call moms, sisters, brothers and cousins.  We hunted the next evening, despite the thermometer on my truck reading 105 degrees.  It wasn't near as good but the previous morning was a wonderful way to start the 2012 hunting season.  Despite never popping a cap, I'll remember that hunt forever and I'm betting my nephew and son will, too.