I would be the first to admit, for me, dove hunting has been a “love/hate” relationship from the very beginning. Back a few years, with the approach of the “new” bird season in Indiana and my first dove hunt, I pooh-poohed this variance of the wing-shooters’ sport as presenting little challenge. I pictured the fat, dim-witted, melancholy birds crooning from the power lines offering about as much sport as shooting fish in a barrel.

The lesson was well taken as opening day found me holding a shotgun with a barrel hot enough to fry eggs, three boxes of empty shells, and not enough dove meat to feed a small cat.

As the following weekend approached, I decided to go afield in search of the wily red squirrel. (Still suffering the slings and barbs of a devastated wing-shooter’s ego and realizing dove breasts were costing the household about $38 a pound, I opted for the better chance of a couple of squirrels.)

Easing into a little-hunted patch of woods not far from home, I soon scored my limit for the table of two red squirrels and proceeded to dilly-dally around for a couple of hours enjoying the all too brief commune with nature.

As I was taking my leave along a weed field bordering the woods, I glanced up towards a large clump of withered grapevine just as a feathered meteor narrowly missed my head!

Ducking so fast I left my hat suspended in mid-air, I opted to check out this phenomenon from a prone position. Wheeling around on my stomach in the mud and weeds, I parted the grass in time to see a mourning dove careening across the field.

Hearing a commotion from the direction of the grapevine cluster, I eased my head up to discover several “rowdy” doves still perched in the vines eating raisin-like remnants of long soured grapes. 

Gaining courage, I stepped forward just in time to duck a second errant bundle of feathers exiting the mass of vines!

Brandishing the 12-gauge and continuing my approach with great caution, I was amazed at the site of a reveling, apparently inebriated flock of birds. Staggering around the branches like militia on a three-day pass, gobbling up the soured grapes, they presented a comical, but somewhat dangerous, sight for the passerby.

Later in the year, a good friend asked if I enjoyed the “new” dove season. My answer caught him off guard as I replied, “Yes, they are great sport, but you have to watch them. They get mean when they’ve been drinking.”

Enjoy Halloween At Clifty Falls State Park

The Friends of Clifty Falls State Park will offer hayrides through the park on two weekends: Oct. 16-17 and Oct. 23-24, from 5 to 7 p.m. Rides will depart from the pool area. The cost is $5 per person, cash only. Kids 3 and under are free. No pets please. Proceeds will benefit the Friends of Clifty Falls State Park.

Clifty Falls State Park will host its annual Halloween weekend Oct. 23-25. Saturday’s lineup features a campsite decorating contest, pumpkin painting, a costume contest, trick-or-treating in the campground, and other family-friendly activities. On Sunday, visitors can join a fall photo scavenger hunt. 

‘till next time, 

Jack

Readers can contact the author by writing to this publication or e-mail Jack at jackspaulding1971@outlook.com  Spaulding’s books, “The Best Of Spaulding Outdoors” and “The Coon Hunter And The Kid” are available from Amazon.com as a paperback or Kindle download.