Sunday, November 17, 2013


It's always good to have friends with land. Even better when that land has been managed for bobwhite comfort and better still when they let you hunt it. Such is the case with a tract in the eastern part of the state that a friend (actually his wife) inherited from his father-in-law.

It was shy on luxuries, the closest thing to shelter being two shipping containers and, more recently, a giant screened-in porch designed to keep out rain and mosquitoes. This structure, though long on tenure, we judged unsafe for habitation...

Old farm house falling down

Parts of it were leased to a farmer who farmed it a little too cleanly for my taste but I kept my mouth shut about that. A few more feet of weeds at the field borders would have done wonders for the birds. Nevertheless, in two seasons we found six different coveys hanging around.

bobwhite in hand

Last I week received the truly sad news that after a mere eight months on the market, far short of the three or four years I expected it to take, the property was sold. The real estate market never goes in the crapper when it would actually do some good.

Word is that a small company is buying it for use by the owners and, assuming they have a decent accountant, those customers near the top of the Christmas card list. Somebody's gonna hunt it. Hell, I can't complain. Like many things in this transient life, it was good while it lasted.


  1. Well that sucks, but at least it isn't getting developed. I remember when the spot I shot my first double on bobs (totally accidental, and probably illegal, since it was technically in city limits) became high-density housing for college students. It was a bit surreal going to a party at that apartment complex years later when I was a college student, and knowing that buried under all that concrete was a memory that no one but me would understand.

  2. Bummer, and as Mr. Love said at least it's not getting roused for houses. Maybe you can get on that list if you brought a bit of hooch and some photo memories to the new owners, or offered them an experienced tour of the lay of the land.. you never know..

  3. Well...just damn...

    I think I'd try to get to know the new landowners. They might be good people.

  4. There's a huge tract of land that my buddies and I have hunted for almost 40 years. We are at the mercy of a formidable bureaucracy that permits the hunting. Every year my buddies and I commiserate that we have been lucky and if and when it ever closes to hunting, all we can do is tip our hats to the land and be grateful we had it while it lasted. The memories will never end.

  5. Given the distance from where I live this was always a destination hunt and I doubt I'll pursue it again. If I ever find myself in the neighborhood, though, I'm sure I'll swing by and see if anyone's around.

    Chad, you're right that things could be worse. As remote as this place is, it's safe from the bulldozer for a while.

    And Gil, keep gettin' it while you can..

  6. I've learned to savor the day, for the tomorrows may not be as nice as the day we have. I love that picture of the old house. It says so much.