Uncle Larry. Old school big time bush kicker. He recently retired an pulled up stakes and beat feet for Kingman, Az, from, L.A. Been a year or so since then and it was time to go for a visit, and, what better time than during quail season! So I rented an econo-box to save gas, got my Arizona Game and Fish license online, tossed "Elvira" in the car and hit it.

He used to be a force in the fields, swinging his Winchester Model 101 and knocking down stuff for the pot should it be dumb enough to jump up in front of him. But, his pop-guns have been silent for a lot of reasons of late, call it a decade, maybe more. I figured hey, it's "in the blood" so lets kick start that fire again. He really hasn't had a chance to scout a lot of areas yet but, there is PRIME habitat just 15 minutes away. We are going in cold with low expectations but high hopes. (pic 1)


Up an att'em Saturday morning, pick a spot that looks promising, hit the trail and start kicking. No calls, no signs, just a million jacks and cottons, tweety's and crows. Lot of perfect places for them to roost, loaf, eat and drink but...no ones home. No calls, nothing just a gorgeous and peaceful spot to reflect. Pose for a shot, hop in the truck, scout to the next spot. (pic 2)



Things look good for miles in every direction, so we pick a direction and cruise some roads in low gear hoping to spot some action, and we stumble across a water tank. OK, back way up, stop here and let's get out and sniff around. We give the water a wide birth so we don't spoil it, I'm out in the weeds about 10 minutes and one flushes- oooh! got me flat-footed and it flew behind some cover before I got my gun up. I stopped and tucked the butt of the little Benelli under my arm hoping there was a another in there as I froze then stomped a foot after a 10 second wait. Yup...BRRRRRR! out he comes and POP! "Elvira" speaks and we got one in the bag. Uncle's happy, I look like I just ate the canary. We back track some as I'm pretty fragged from my drive from So. Cal, call it early it and head for some cold ones thinking we'll hit it tomorrow when they come off roost. I sorta popped this guy low and knocked the rudder off him, but enough found home and he was done. (pic 3)



Sunday is another picture perfect day- we get there plenty early and stage at least 1oo yards away from that tank. Still no calls and it's disappointingly quiet. Not good signs. It's early and cool so they could be sleeping in. We wait some more and that's enough of that, time to kick some bushes. Grab my stuff, tell Uncle Larry I'm going to try a wagon wheel thing- out and back at angles and try and drive some to him. Nothings really going on so I put the hammer down and head way out and bump a small bunch. They saw me coming and really took off into the breeze and put at least a hundred yards on me. I stopped and waited a few after marking the direction, took a slower pace in case there were others and the chase was on. It went on like this for about 45 minutes, the hopping gorges, me hammering through them, rinse and repeat. Obviously educated birds no way are they letting me get close, much less flank and drive them. I'm at least a mile form the truck so I headed back defeated as Uncle Larry was probably wondering where the hell I went. That, or eating all the snacks



He's done, I'm pretty wiped and could use some grub so hey, let's call it early for some chow, we just might bump a few on the way out. Well, rather be lucky than good- we are cruising along in low gear and talking when I grab his arm and hiss STOP!!!! Nice bunch right out my window 20 feet away. I got out, trucks still moving, I land in a culvert, fly out of it to the back of the truck now even with me, grab my vest and gun and haul bacon hoping to snag a few. Larry moves up a dozen yards or so and shuts the back door. Now we got 'em. It's easy open terrain here so this will be a true gift. He's on a pair right off, three more come up and I hear his 28ga bark. Three are coming my way and oh goody, goody goody, then they flare, catch the wind and disappear over the side of a cliff. Rats! He's laughing, I'm scratching my head with my right hand, carrying my gun in my left, cursing my luck as I walk then kick a pucker bush and BRRRRRRR! Holding the gun with only one hand and finally get BOTH hands on it and"Elvira" comes up and gives him two 1oz. #8 loads to the noggin. He folds and lands upside down 40 yards away like a rock. Uncles happy, I'm thinking hey- when all else fails, cuss and kick more bushes! Good times. We worked the scrub a few more minutes but they were long gone by now. Happy we got something after all I posed the old guy with our catch and his sweet little 28ga pop-gun for a pic. (pic 4, 5)



We headed home a little early to do some things there, like cook some super yummy stakes, giant baked potato and all the other trimmings, and, have a few cold ones with some bench hunting. We dressed the catch and got a couple little plumper's for our next meal, and that's better than nothing. (pic 6)



Sometimes it's about the numbers and a nice full bag. Sometimes it's about the fun of a good hard hunt and appreciating a meager take. And all the time it's about Family, because that's what matters most. Thank you Uncle Larry and Aunt Kimmy for a wonderful weekend, supreme dinners and awesome hospitality ( I slept in a bed that was worth more then my truck!). I'm very much looking forward to our next adventure together. And, yes, the fire's re-lit in his belly. Once in the blood....And I feel sorry for Arizona's quail and the other guys who won't get much after he comes through!

And, The Parting Shot: The master at work. Old school, pheasants over dogs, with that Winy 101, in Indio back in 1970'ish if I recall. (staged with empty guns of course- SAFETY FIRST PEOPLE).

Very long story, but what I remember is only a very small bird to eat...
you heard my daughter talking about overweight?


for your info: my oldest is a medical doctor...
and I should be better of with about 12 kg less.

Nice mulie country too! I love those hills in the back ground. Great story Stovie thanks for sharing the desert pics too. Makes me homesick just a tad, except for the near 100 degree weather they're still having, it looks wonderful.

Suz

Aloy- start walking...you'll drop weight like a rock. Trust me. Walking is a fat burner lilke nothing else. Farther ya walk, skinner ya get. Not a lot of old folk keep up with the kid, drop some yunkers in the hills too. It's ala bout the miles.

Suz- they got all kina game here, sportsmans paradise. Made it hard to come back to Liberalland...gag. It was perfect weather. 75* daytime, low 50's at night. We were at 3500'. I wana go back now!

Good story Stovey

very good to hear you are getting out, and Uncle is retired so he can come visit you next time...

Rather go see him...his place is way nicer, birds are closer, town is freindlier! Doubt he'll head out this way anytime soon- he just left this hole for paradise. I wouldn't leave either. I wana go back now!

Stovey, glad to see you survived the elections...

headach? Or just pain in the a.. ?

Both.....

Marinate in honey/smokey sauce cut 70/30 with spring water. Simmer in ramano and parmesan pasta sauce, served with mexican style rice and veggies. Yum!

very classy.

Stovey, thanks for sharing. Now we see your other talents. Have you been taking cooking lessons?

He is surprisingly amazingly when he shows his female side, isn't he?
It shows great taste!

A brilliant yarn Slim. As hard a day or two as it was mate, you can't fault a day in the field, especially seeing as how you got a feed as well.