Wild Quail

[Griffin]

I'd guess I have around 15 coveys with about an average of 10-12 per covey on one property I hunt. The other property was once managed for quail and has birds everywhere. Like 50 plus coveys

[Strick9]

There was an increasing population in the Francis Marion. Up until 2008 I knew of about 10 coveys more or less. Of those 4 were 15 birds or so.. The others maybe 5-10.

After the aerial ignition program started I now know of two coveys both small. Quail Unlimited I think now known as Quail Forever started a project in Guillard lake which was torched this year, 2300 acres fully scorched in under 4 hours..

[CWPINST]

There are very few bird hunters under the age of 50 in SC.

[Sportin' Woodies]

People with huntable numbers of quail shoot hawks.
I wish they'd legalize it. At least there are no cat laws.

[Two Barrels]

There are very few bird hunters under the age of 50 in SC.

I qualify, but not by much. Except for my son who is 17, my hunting partners are 73 (my father) and 63 (close family friend).

It is a rare day when all four of us are hunting together on the same day. Those are special days.

[smitch320]

There are very few bird hunters under the age of 50 in SC.

I'd do it if I could. The only serious bird hunters I know are old timers. Like running the dogs and so on and so forth.

[Mergie Master]

Merge, how does Uncle William's property look?

I haven't been on that farm in over 40 years.

I think I've told the stories about that place on here. When I worked for him at the Farmers Co-op he used to let me stay at the old home place at the farm in Cokesbury. I still remember that big rattlesnake skin hanging over the mantle. That farm was covered up with birds. He had a small kennel out back and I'd put my pointer in it and sack out in the house at night. The next morning I'd give the birds time to lay some scent then me and the dog would go after them.

There was a "home covey" that used a corner of the straw field where the garden used to be behind the house. I'd let the dog work them just to get her heated up. But I never once shot into the home covey. In my day that was forbidden. After the dog got a good snoot full of bird scent we'd move out and hunt all day. I'd eat a sandwich while following the dog. By evening we were both worn out. I'd put the dog back in the kennel, feed and water her, eat a bite myself and hit the sack. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. Next morning we would replay the day before. Man I miss those days. A good dog, plenty of birds to hunt all day and a good honest nights sleep dreaming of the next day. I was 14 years old and I hunted that place until I was 16.

I also cut, raked, bailed and stacked square bails in those fields and in the barn in the summer as part of my day job. Man that old barn loft by the pond was hot as hell when stacking hay. It had a butt load of wasps too. After a day of throwing hay bails I'd strip down and hit the pond to cool off. It was spring fed and if you dived down close to the bottom it was invigoratingly cool.

[britton40]

If we still had quail....i would sale all of my deer stuff and buy two english setters and go at it. I miss those days.

This

[pappy]

It's great to hear that at least a few coveys are scattered around the upstate. When I was in high school I'd keep my shotgun in my '55 Chevy. As soon as I left school I would haul butt to the house and load up my pointer, then hit the spots I knew had coveys. It was nothing to find 3 or 4 coveys in the afternoon. A few years later when I joined the Air Force I told my dad to sell my pointers. It had already gotten hard to find birds.

I hunted birds with my dad for as long ago as I can remember. When I first started going with him I carried a Daisy lever action BB gun.

this closely mirrors my experiance......carried the shotgun to school behind the seat in a dodge power wagon....when school let out me and the ag teacher would go after the birds....on weekends me and my dad hunted all day on saturday....had an old setter named peach and a young black and white pointer named dub. i wish i had those days again.

[pappy]

You haven't lived till you've walked a cut-over and stepped into the middle of a covey of quail.

you've never had the shit scared out of you until you step into a roosting covey at night...they fly right into your face.

[TheVisorGuy]

Id venture to say I have 10 or so coveys that average 8-10 birds per covey on my main tract that is 761 acres, and maybe half that on the 296 acre tract across the street ( for these days I would consider that to be a good population). Both tracts are managed by the same timber company. Habitat is pines that have gone through pulp cut thinning and 2 select cuts. Standing pines that are left are freaking huge Understory is grown up but not choked out with what appears to be that bushy tail looking lespedeza stuff (I think that's what it is). I'm no timber management expert but apparently whatever these guys are doing is good for quail. On the flip side I could ride 20 mins down the road to my place in Blackstock and not even hear a bird

[Duck cutter]

quail love lespedeza

[TheVisorGuy]

I'm not far from you in Woodward but more towards the Lebanon mart, dumpers creek runs through there. We have plenty of quail too.

Lebanon mart used to be my go to place before the towel heads got ahold of it. I'm maybe 10 minutes from there

[JBtflo]

I was born in the '85, I'm 31 now. When I came along and was old enough to carry a gun, bird hunting was a thing of the past for the most part. I was still fortunate enough to be able to experience a few covey rises and kill a few. Although it's sad when you can recall exactly where, when, and how it all went down. As opposed to having so many memories your mind forgets a few. All my dad cared about was "bird" hunting. A dove was a dove, duck a duck, but quail hunting was referred to as "bird huntjng". He hunted other game but when quail season came in, all the other bullshit stopped. He was at peace in a cut over or a thick creek bottom trailing a couple of pointers and setters. Sadly by the time I was old enough to enjoy it with him the opportunities didn't exist anymore.

My dad started hunting birds in the 50's in his early teens. He always tried out for the basketball team, made the cut, then would quite as soon as quail season opened. He raised dogs his whole life, mostly English setters and pointers with a few drops mixed in. He carried a variety of SxS chambered in 12,16, or 20. His last bird gun was an old 870 that he cut off at 18" so he could swing it better in the thickets. I've got pictures of myself in the puppy lot at 3 years old with his last litter of setters.

He passed away 3 years ago this past month. I've still got his last dog, a male setter, he's 14 now. He's old, brittle, and his hips are getting bad. Every time I look into his eyes I can see my dad. The willingness to go is there but the body can't do what the mind wants. Every time I see or hear a wild bird I always smile and say hello. It's just his way or dropping in. In the last two springs on separate occasions while turkey hunting I've walked up on a pair of birds. Within an hour both times I've managed to find and kill a longboard.

In my mind I can still see myself riding shotgun down some country road. Dads sipping on a cold colors light and I'm pounding Reese pieces and mtn dew like they're going out of style. All hopped up on caffeine ready for the next drop. I didn't know it but those were my good old days.

If I could have one wish, I'd wish for one more covey rise with the old man.

Not so sure I wouldn't put out a few pen raised birds in a field out in front of that dog to let him hunt one up one more time.

[TheVisorGuy]

Whatever the bushy looking grass that my place is full of has he little green pods that stick to your britches like a mofo when you walk through it. Those things are a pain to get off.

[ecu1984]

I grew up with really good English Pointers and wild quail. I am looking to buy a trained dog soon and get after some again. It's going to be "have dog will travel"

[reeltight]

Id venture to say I have 10 or so coveys that average 8-10 birds per covey on my main tract that is 761 acres, and maybe half that on the 296 acre tract across the street ( for these days I would consider that to be a good population). Both tracts are managed by the same timber company. Habitat is pines that have gone through pulp cut thinning and 2 select cuts. Standing pines that are left are freaking huge Understory is grown up but not choked out with what appears to be that bushy tail looking lespedeza stuff (I think that's what it is). I'm no timber management expert but apparently whatever these guys are doing is good for quail. On the flip side I could ride 20 mins down the road to my place in Blackstock and not even hear a bird

Sounds good. We use to have a covey at our place in St. Matthews but I have not seen or heard them in a while.

[reezen44]

We have seen two different coveys on our club this year on a regular basis. One covey has 20 birds in it.

[Burney Mac]

Not so sure I wouldn't put out a few pen raised birds in a field out in front of that dog to let him hunt one up one more time.

I put a few out for him last year and will do the same again shortly. Sadly, that dog has only ever been into two wild coveys of birds. If it weren't for pen raised birds I doubt he would even know how to point.

Dad had his theories on the decline of the population like so many other folks did. He attributed a good portion of the decline to coons, possums, skunks, and of course hawks. If I wanted to see my dad smile all I had to do was bring him a set of talons. On our farm we did not have a hawk problem, I can assure you. Then there were the evolving ag practices. The use of herbicides and pesticides changed over the years. Farmers became more efficient as machinery has evolved. The fence and hedge rows are no more, fields widened to gain every possible acre. Essentially any ground cover is destroyed and turned into crop land, which doesn't leave any cover for birds to travel through to feed quickly and return to safety. He always wondered what correlation there may have been between the decline of quail and the abundance of turkey and chicken farms once they started growing in our area.

Our farm was in Anson County, N.C. My uncle farmed our land with typical corn and soybean crop rotations each year. Dad had little plots scattered all over the 140 acres that were for the quail, mostly some variation of lespedeza or buckwheat. When I was a around 8 to 10 years old my uncle stopped farming and me and dad took over, well mostly dad. Corn, beans, milo, millet, buckwheat, lespedeza were all planted yearly. We never harvested anything, well occasionally we would cut a little corn and beans just to off set some cost. Mostly it was straight out of pocket and left for the wildlife to enjoy. Basically our farm was nothing more than a designated quail restoration project. Everything was done for the sole purpose of enhancing and sustaining the habitat strictly for quail. The ditch and border cover remain intact to this day, only manipulation is they would be mowed every other year after the quail were done nesting as to ensure plenty of cover come fall and winter. I'd like to have a dollar for ever pound of lespedeza I've hand sewn in various places all across Anson county.

Dad hunted a big track of land several times a year near Manning S.C. These guys had strict management practices in place just for quail hunting. They kept records of every covey sighting, every covey point, how many birds were in the covey, how many birds killed, if singles were hunted all kinds of different data. They never shot a covey down below 10 birds. He said in the mid 70's he started noticing, they as well, that the numbers seemed to be dropping off and their records proved it as well . However, the bird numbers seemed to still be steady here in south central N.C. However, a few years later he started to notice a decline in our area as well. Every Christmas we would go to Bath, N.C. to visit friends, it was nothing more than a quail hunting trip. While our numbers were on the trend downward, the hunting was still really good down on the east coast. By the late 80's early 90's, they too were experiencing what had been told was coming.

When I was to little to walk and keep up dad would carry me on his shoulders when he went to run the dogs in the off season. I can remember a black snake that had gotten in the quail pen and swallowed 4 birds, but was then to large to get out. Dad cut the snake open just to prove to me that the quail were actually inside him, I was hard headed and didn't believe him.

I wasn't raised on wild quail like some of the more fortunate people in the world have been. Sadly, most of my knowledge of dog work and knowledge of the sport is based off of pen raised birds, but there is no comparison to the real thing. I was still taught proper etiquette, how to hunt, how to handle a firearm, what was accepted and frowned upon. You didn't boast about your dogs or your shooting, nor did you talk shit about another mans dogs. If you did the next time out you'd be lucky to draw a feather and your dogs would act like they'd never smelled a bird. Karma

I can still hear the stories of days gone by. "Son, those 200 acres of pines right there used to have an old house at the back end. There was always a covey or two on the backside. Beans were planted in the fields and there were two hedge rows that were always good for at least a covey or two". " I used to could leave at daylight and never get out of sight of the house and I knew where there were 10 to 12 coveys of birds". Sadly there were many more stories of where there were once fond memories of days gone by.

Some people don't understand, I know my friends don't. The few times I have talked about bird hunting you can see the disbelief and utter confusion in their eyes. They've never experienced anything like it and likely never will. Dad always said he hoped he could live long enough to see quail return to their glory days, much like the wild turkey has returned to the landscape. That never happened.

To me, there is something pure about bird hunting, it has always appealed to me. There is something special about watching a dog running full speed come to a complete stop to lock in on a covey of birds, and to watch 3 or 4 more honor the point. You take a brief moment to enjoy and mentally take a picture. You cautiously move forward, checking the dogs to be sure they aren't creeping. You focus on the lead dog, you can tell by their eyes if the birds are close of if they've run. They eyes tell it all, they haven't ran, they're right there. Then it happens, the adrenaline rush of the covey rise where things are moving at lightning speed, but also in slow motion as well. You swing the gun effortlessly and instincts take over. Just like that, in a matter or seconds, it's all over with.

Quail hunters are addicts, a wild covey rise in front of good dogs is the purest form of drug addiction that there is IMO.

I agree with the others. If the opportunity was still available all I would do is bird hunt. There would be no need for any other non sense.

I apologize for being so long winded and realize this is not story time nor was this the intention of this thread. However, it feels good to talk about this on a place where some people will understand where I'm coming from. I think back on the past with a lump in my throat and a tear in my eye reminiscing on days gone by with my father. Sometimes a man just needs to get some shit off his chest. Quail hunting is something that I hold near and dear to my heart, and greatly respect the sport and also what some would call artwork. It was never about the kill, it was about everything else but the kill. My dad, along with most of his friends are now gone. All I have left are the memories and stories of what once was and how things used to be.

[Two Barrels]

I put a few out for him last year and will do the same again shortly. Sadly, that dog has only ever been into two wild coveys of birds. If it weren't for pen raised birds I doubt he would even know how to point.

Dad had his theories on the decline of the population like so many other folks did. He attributed a good portion of the decline to coons, possums, skunks, and of course hawks. If I wanted to see my dad smile all I had to do was bring him a set of talons. On our farm we did not have a hawk problem, I can assure you. Then there were the evolving ag practices. The use of herbicides and pesticides changed over the years. Farmers became more efficient as machinery has evolved. The fence and hedge rows are no more, fields widened to gain every possible acre. Essentially any ground cover is destroyed and turned into crop land, which doesn't leave any cover for birds to travel through to feed quickly and return to safety. He always wondered what correlation there may have been between the decline of quail and the abundance of turkey and chicken farms once they started growing in our area.

Our farm was in Anson County, N.C. My uncle farmed our land with typical corn and soybean crop rotations each year. Dad had little plots scattered all over the 140 acres that were for the quail, mostly some variation of lespedeza or buckwheat. When I was a around 8 to 10 years old my uncle stopped farming and me and dad took over, well mostly dad. Corn, beans, milo, millet, buckwheat, lespedeza were all planted yearly. We never harvested anything, well occasionally we would cut a little corn and beans just to off set some cost. Mostly it was straight out of pocket and left for the wildlife to enjoy. Basically our farm was nothing more than a designated quail restoration project. Everything was done for the sole purpose of enhancing and sustaining the habitat strictly for quail. The ditch and border cover remain intact to this day, only manipulation is they would be mowed every other year after the quail were done nesting as to ensure plenty of cover come fall and winter. I'd like to have a dollar for ever pound of lespedeza I've hand sewn in various places all across Anson county.

Dad hunted a big track of land several times a year near Manning S.C. These guys had strict management practices in place just for quail hunting. They kept records of every covey sighting, every covey point, how many birds were in the covey, how many birds killed, if singles were hunted all kinds of different data. They never shot a covey down below 10 birds. He said in the mid 70's he started noticing, they as well, that the numbers seemed to be dropping off and their records proved it as well . However, the bird numbers seemed to still be steady here in south central N.C. However, a few years later he started to notice a decline in our area as well. Every Christmas we would go to Bath, N.C. to visit friends, it was nothing more than a quail hunting trip. While our numbers were on the trend downward, the hunting was still really good down on the east coast. By the late 80's early 90's, they too were experiencing what had been told was coming.

When I was to little to walk and keep up dad would carry me on his shoulders when he went to run the dogs in the off season. I can remember a black snake that had gotten in the quail pen and swallowed 4 birds, but was then to large to get out. Dad cut the snake open just to prove to me that the quail were actually inside him, I was hard headed and didn't believe him.

I wasn't raised on wild quail like some of the more fortunate people in the world have been. Sadly, most of my knowledge of dog work and knowledge of the sport is based off of pen raised birds, but there is no comparison to the real thing. I was still taught proper etiquette, how to hunt, how to handle a firearm, what was accepted and frowned upon. You didn't boast about your dogs or your shooting, nor did you talk shit about another mans dogs. If you did the next time out you'd be lucky to draw a feather and your dogs would act like they'd never smelled a bird. Karma

I can still hear the stories of days gone by. "Son, those 200 acres of pines right there used to have an old house at the back end. There was always a covey or two on the backside. Beans were planted in the fields and there were two hedge rows that were always good for at least a covey or two". " I used to could leave at daylight and never get out of sight of the house and I knew where there were 10 to 12 coveys of birds". Sadly there were many more stories of where there were once fond memories of days gone by.

Some people don't understand, I know my friends don't. The few times I have talked about bird hunting you can see the disbelief and utter confusion in their eyes. They've never experienced anything like it and likely never will. Dad always said he hoped he could live long enough to see quail return to their glory days, much like the wild turkey has returned to the landscape. That never happened.

To me, there is something pure about bird hunting, it has always appealed to me. There is something special about watching a dog running full speed come to a complete stop to lock in on a covey of birds, and to watch 3 or 4 more honor the point. You take a brief moment to enjoy and mentally take a picture. You cautiously move forward, checking the dogs to be sure they aren't creeping. You focus on the lead dog, you can tell by their eyes if the birds are close of if they've run. They eyes tell it all, they haven't ran, they're right there. Then it happens, the adrenaline rush of the covey rise where things are moving at lightning speed, but also in slow motion as well. You swing the gun effortlessly and instincts take over. Just like that, in a matter or seconds, it's all over with.

Quail hunters are addicts, a wild covey rise in front of good dogs is the purest form of drug addiction that there is IMO.

I agree with the others. If the opportunity was still available all I would do is bird hunt. There would be no need for any other non sense.

I apologize for being so long winded and realize this is not story time nor was this the intention of this thread. However, it feels good to talk about this on a place where some people will understand where I'm coming from. I think back on the past with a lump in my throat and a tear in my eye reminiscing on days gone by with my father. Sometimes a man just needs to get some shit off his chest. Quail hunting is something that I hold near and dear to my heart, and greatly respect the sport and also what some would call artwork. It was never about the kill, it was about everything else but the kill. My dad, along with most of his friends are now gone. All I have left are the memories and stories of what once was and how things used to be.

This is a great read and I am glad you wrote it.