That was the week that was

[Centrepin]

What a week.

Sunday, clays, shot well on an easy shoot, unfortunately not yet a clear round.

Monday, went on my permission, not a breath of wind and bright sun. Not a bird anywhere not even the usual swifts to keep me company. No shots fired.

Thursday, back on my permission 90% of the fields no birds. Hot and sunny again with no breeze. Farmer was sewing a field and gulls following him. He pointed me to a section he sewed Wednesday but was planned for next week. Drove into the area and it was black! Hardly a space between crows. Of course the moment I stepped out of the car away they went never to be seen again that day. I'd taken the .410 over under so wandered down to the flight line and tried decoying. I tried everything I could but no, nothing. Maybe it was the large flashing neon sign written in Crow/Pigeon saying "Welcome here to be shot" . Packed up and as reloading the car a suicidal Pigeon flew over the car, well at least I fired one shot and had one kill.

Spent the rest of the day catching up on washing and hoovering. 

Bed early, but a phone call at 2052 woke me. Do I want to share a peg on a Partridge shoot tomorrow. Obviously YES! made a phone call to make sure my daughter could check on my wife during the day, set the alarm and back to sleep. 

Friday, 0415 alarm. I'm a belt and braces sort of person rarely do I allow a what if moment. I'd slept soundly in the knowledge I'd have plenty of clean ironed shirts and trousers to pick from. I only ever wear my regimental tie, no intention of even purchasing any other. I always clean and polish my guns and boots before putting away. Ammo I keep stocks of in various shot sizes and loads. Shooting bags I have two, clay and birds, always ready to pick up and walk out of the door. Tweed jacket I steamed and pressed only last week.

0500, dogs fed, porridge and a small coffee inside me saw my son and myself heading North at the legal speed limit to make the meet. Called at a hotel on the way to pick up the non driving organiser. To my mind as a heathen and a old troglodyte it was very posh. I settled into Mrs Shackletons chair and was rather surprised to be served my strong black coffee in a bowl with a handle, apparently its a a type of cup. My son had a stemmed glass with a long handled spoon, I enquired if it was a hot chocolate with marshmallows, at 0800 I thought a little early, bit like starting on booze before 1000. Apparently these are called latte and really are a coffee with milk - ugh!

0845 saw us in the pub for a full English breakfast, more coffee but this time in a proper mug. A brief that followed the usual theme, safety, no low birds, no grouse, no ground game, up 3 per drive, whistle to shoot only behind, horn to finish, 4 drives and a reminder on safety. Sloe gin, pick pegs and away. No gin for me as it works wonders in my system fighting the insulin and starting the party with the morphine and other concoction of mixed prescription drug's to keep me vertical and breathing. 

I lost track of time after that as I don't wear a time piece and had decided to have a phone free day so left the damm thing in the car to ring its head off. According to others my voice mail says something along the lines of "I don't do voicemail if I haven't answered I don't want to talk to you" or something along them lines but less polite. Not remembering setting it up I never apologise.

First drive,  I opted to watch as it was a shared peg and no two guns allowed to be taken to a peg. Peg two, always seems to be the furthest for  me to walk bar one. Sun direct in the eyes and a slow start followed by a couple of flurries and my son put down five birds. What a pleasure to watch the dogs working, an absolute joy to me. I loved one black lab that tracked the birds coming in, saw them before me, ran to where they'd land and waited.  Stopped to pee on the peg marker every time he passed and dropped the birds in a pile. This way he worked three pegs and all with no visible direction from his handler. Superb. I imagined him later in the day stoping in front of me and peeing up my leg every time he ran to where I missed.

Quick break saw a fair amount of light refreshments, I had a fizzy pop to keep my blood sugar stable. Really, I did fizzy orange.

Second drive, my turn. Peg five. Again sun in the eyes. Although I knew one or two of the guns,  other than my son I've only ever shot with one. Didn't want to embrass myself by doing something stupid, unsafe or low I was feeling a little pressure. Why I don't know as Inever have before and was made to feel very welcome, comfortable and was treated by all as an old friend, I did know one or two but only to pass the time of day with. The organiser I know as he runs a very good local Pheasant shoot which I can't generally afford and the odd clay day out of season. I was also the oldest person there.

First two birds over, instinct took over, first barrel one kill, second barrel several feet behind. I felt the tension go, first bird down. Relaxed I saw a "high" bird and took it, as I pulled the trigger I heard my son say "leave it Dad, far too high" As it came to a thud about twenty feet behind dead in the air, apparently not too high. I then heard several shouts of well done and good shot, fine shooting and such. My son said it was one of the best shots he's ever seen me take so I was well chuffed and as a result of stopping to polish my ego missed every one of the next flurry. Drive over four birds for around twelve shots. 

Elevenses, some gorgeous pork ball things in some kind of pasta cup and I think something like a soy sauce dip. Told you I was a heathen, no finesse, they probably have some cheffy (is that a word) name. Anyway, served with chopsticks, I just stabbed mine and ate if off the end. Bumming nice anyway.

Third drive, peg eight. Awful peg. Sun in eyes, high bank in front, by the time they cleared the bank they where behind us. The organiser said as there were a few sharing pegs, two guns allowed but one had to be slipped at all times and when swapping over, slip one before unslipping second, very fair I thought. My son had a couple or three then we swapped, the only bird that came in range was a Pheasant, as I came on it, it dipped but my finger was already pulling. One Pheasant down but I considered it to be too low as less than 45% so hoped no-one noticed. The organiser was stood behind the next peg observing but as the gun was having flurry after flurry on that peg his concentration was taken. My son was on that peg last year and took 34 birds as it was the last drive and on the previous drives he and others had hardly fired a shot. I did see the gun take two good pheasants as well as a few partridge.

Lunch.

Lunch over and final drive. Peg one. Farest to walk again, every joint in my body screaming. Would you belive, sun in the eyes. During lunch I sat talking to the keeper, nice chap. I told him it was my first organised game shoot since the 70s and first ever Red Leg day. Chatting along we drifted into pigeon and crow, he admitted his favourite shooting was pigeons, the most challenging he told me by far. Thousands he pointed out to the nearby woods, but no-one gets permission to shoot. Not his land so he can't do anything. The local crows and pigeon come into his pens and he's not happy. Half a million on partridge chick's he's spent this year alone. Only two days not taken for 200 bird shoots for this season. Mostly booked up years in advance. He told me today, clear blue sky, bright sun, no breeze, one of the worst days he's had this year and the planned drive three and four he cancelled and took two off the cuff drives in the hope of getting some high birds. 

Anyway, back to the fourth drive. Waiting and waiting, nothing one quick flurry and I managed to fluke a couple. Then I saw the beaters flags so thought it was time to swap. Quick flurry just as I said it and then swap. My son had a Pheasant straight away but missed making a pair. Then a few odd birds and end.

Back to the pub, I even had a bitter shandy. Sorted out and all paid up. Ten guns, two hundred and ten birds. 195 Red legs, 15 Pheasant. Considering my son shot two Pheasant the next peg two and me one that I think pretty good. The top for the day has to be the real fast moving Partridge, I now see why folk pay over the odds to go on one of these days. But I must admit in addition to the shooting and good company it was a pleasure to stand back and do some observing and watch them there doggies enjoying their work.

As a postscript, I learnt a lot not just about picking my birds or knowing when to leave a bird for the next peg or peg behind. I was thanked for that as it was his only bird of the drive and I'd had four but learned a lot from the keeper about things keepering. He's another belt and braces, doesn't allow for what ifs. Had third and fourth drive changed in his head before anyone else had thought about it. Beaters, pickers and obviously the dogs briefed so everything went so smooth. The man earns his money. Now I'm wondering if I can afford to join in next year if any regulars drop out. Dead man's shoes normally for a place on this day. My good fortune that a few cancelled at short notice. 

My son shot his Miroku MK70 and clear pigeon. I stayed with my tried and tested used for virtually everything Miroku MK38 sporter, choked 1/2 & 1/4. Used 30.5g x 6s, Clever mirage.

My first driven day since 1972 and that was grouse. (Beaters day)

My son took this picture of me, waiting, turned slightly to avoid the sun.

 

 

 

[Scully]

Sounds like a cracking day. Good for you, its grand to be out. 👍

[marsh man]

A superb account of your day out , hope you have one or two more before the season draw to a close .

I started reading it with a hot coffee in a Harrods mug ( minus the handle ) and with me being a slow reader it was stone cold cold when I finished , mind you it was worth it 

[Fellside]

3 hours ago, Centrepin said:

What a week.

Sunday, clays, shot well on an easy shoot, unfortunately not yet a clear round.

Monday, went on my permission, not a breath of wind and bright sun. Not a bird anywhere not even the usual swifts to keep me company. No shots fired.

Thursday, back on my permission 90% of the fields no birds. Hot and sunny again with no breeze. Farmer was sewing a field and gulls following him. He pointed me to a section he sewed Wednesday but was planned for next week. Drove into the area and it was black! Hardly a space between crows. Of course the moment I stepped out of the car away they went never to be seen again that day. I'd taken the .410 over under so wandered down to the flight line and tried decoying. I tried everything I could but no, nothing. Maybe it was the large flashing neon sign written in Crow/Pigeon saying "Welcome here to be shot" . Packed up and as reloading the car a suicidal Pigeon flew over the car, well at least I fired one shot and had one kill.

Spent the rest of the day catching up on washing and hoovering. 

Bed early, but a phone call at 2052 woke me. Do I want to share a peg on a Partridge shoot tomorrow. Obviously YES! made a phone call to make sure my daughter could check on my wife during the day, set the alarm and back to sleep. 

Friday, 0415 alarm. I'm a belt and braces sort of person rarely do I allow a what if moment. I'd slept soundly in the knowledge I'd have plenty of clean ironed shirts and trousers to pick from. I only ever wear my regimental tie, no intention of even purchasing any other. I always clean and polish my guns and boots before putting away. Ammo I keep stocks of in various shot sizes and loads. Shooting bags I have two, clay and birds, always ready to pick up and walk out of the door. Tweed jacket I steamed and pressed only last week.

0500, dogs fed, porridge and a small coffee inside me saw my son and myself heading North at the legal speed limit to make the meet. Called at a hotel on the way to pick up the non driving organiser. To my mind as a heathen and a old troglodyte it was very posh. I settled into Mrs Shackletons chair and was rather surprised to be served my strong black coffee in a bowl with a handle, apparently its a a type of cup. My son had a stemmed glass with a long handled spoon, I enquired if it was a hot chocolate with marshmallows, at 0800 I thought a little early, bit like starting on booze before 1000. Apparently these are called latte and really are a coffee with milk - ugh!

0845 saw us in the pub for a full English breakfast, more coffee but this time in a proper mug. A brief that followed the usual theme, safety, no low birds, no grouse, no ground game, up 3 per drive, whistle to shoot only behind, horn to finish, 4 drives and a reminder on safety. Sloe gin, pick pegs and away. No gin for me as it works wonders in my system fighting the insulin and starting the party with the morphine and other concoction of mixed prescription drug's to keep me vertical and breathing. 

I lost track of time after that as I don't wear a time piece and had decided to have a phone free day so left the damm thing in the car to ring its head off. According to others my voice mail says something along the lines of "I don't do voicemail if I haven't answered I don't want to talk to you" or something along them lines but less polite. Not remembering setting it up I never apologise.

First drive,  I opted to watch as it was a shared peg and no two guns allowed to be taken to a peg. Peg two, always seems to be the furthest for  me to walk bar one. Sun direct in the eyes and a slow start followed by a couple of flurries and my son put down five birds. What a pleasure to watch the dogs working, an absolute joy to me. I loved one black lab that tracked the birds coming in, saw them before me, ran to where they'd land and waited.  Stopped to pee on the peg marker every time he passed and dropped the birds in a pile. This way he worked three pegs and all with no visible direction from his handler. Superb. I imagined him later in the day stoping in front of me and peeing up my leg every time he ran to where I missed.

Quick break saw a fair amount of light refreshments, I had a fizzy pop to keep my blood sugar stable. Really, I did fizzy orange.

Second drive, my turn. Peg five. Again sun in the eyes. Although I knew one or two of the guns,  other than my son I've only ever shot with one. Didn't want to embrass myself by doing something stupid, unsafe or low I was feeling a little pressure. Why I don't know as Inever have before and was made to feel very welcome, comfortable and was treated by all as an old friend, I did know one or two but only to pass the time of day with. The organiser I know as he runs a very good local Pheasant shoot which I can't generally afford and the odd clay day out of season. I was also the oldest person there.

First two birds over, instinct took over, first barrel one kill, second barrel several feet behind. I felt the tension go, first bird down. Relaxed I saw a "high" bird and took it, as I pulled the trigger I heard my son say "leave it Dad, far too high" As it came to a thud about twenty feet behind dead in the air, apparently not too high. I then heard several shouts of well done and good shot, fine shooting and such. My son said it was one of the best shots he's ever seen me take so I was well chuffed and as a result of stopping to polish my ego missed every one of the next flurry. Drive over four birds for around twelve shots. 

Elevenses, some gorgeous pork ball things in some kind of pasta cup and I think something like a soy sauce dip. Told you I was a heathen, no finesse, they probably have some cheffy (is that a word) name. Anyway, served with chopsticks, I just stabbed mine and ate if off the end. Bumming nice anyway.

Third drive, peg eight. Awful peg. Sun in eyes, high bank in front, by the time they cleared the bank they where behind us. The organiser said as there were a few sharing pegs, two guns allowed but one had to be slipped at all times and when swapping over, slip one before unslipping second, very fair I thought. My son had a couple or three then we swapped, the only bird that came in range was a Pheasant, as I came on it, it dipped but my finger was already pulling. One Pheasant down but I considered it to be too low as less than 45% so hoped no-one noticed. The organiser was stood behind the next peg observing but as the gun was having flurry after flurry on that peg his concentration was taken. My son was on that peg last year and took 34 birds as it was the last drive and on the previous drives he and others had hardly fired a shot. I did see the gun take two good pheasants as well as a few partridge.

Lunch.

Lunch over and final drive. Peg one. Farest to walk again, every joint in my body screaming. Would you belive, sun in the eyes. During lunch I sat talking to the keeper, nice chap. I told him it was my first organised game shoot since the 70s and first ever Red Leg day. Chatting along we drifted into pigeon and crow, he admitted his favourite shooting was pigeons, the most challenging he told me by far. Thousands he pointed out to the nearby woods, but no-one gets permission to shoot. Not his land so he can't do anything. The local crows and pigeon come into his pens and he's not happy. Half a million on partridge chick's he's spent this year alone. Only two days not taken for 200 bird shoots for this season. Mostly booked up years in advance. He told me today, clear blue sky, bright sun, no breeze, one of the worst days he's had this year and the planned drive three and four he cancelled and took two off the cuff drives in the hope of getting some high birds. 

Anyway, back to the fourth drive. Waiting and waiting, nothing one quick flurry and I managed to fluke a couple. Then I saw the beaters flags so thought it was time to swap. Quick flurry just as I said it and then swap. My son had a Pheasant straight away but missed making a pair. Then a few odd birds and end.

Back to the pub, I even had a bitter shandy. Sorted out and all paid up. Ten guns, two hundred and ten birds. 195 Red legs, 15 Pheasant. Considering my son shot two Pheasant the next peg two and me one that I think pretty good. The top for the day has to be the real fast moving Partridge, I now see why folk pay over the odds to go on one of these days. But I must admit in addition to the shooting and good company it was a pleasure to stand back and do some observing and watch them there doggies enjoying their work.

As a postscript, I learnt a lot not just about picking my birds or knowing when to leave a bird for the next peg or peg behind. I was thanked for that as it was his only bird of the drive and I'd had four but learned a lot from the keeper about things keepering. He's another belt and braces, doesn't allow for what ifs. Had third and fourth drive changed in his head before anyone else had thought about it. Beaters, pickers and obviously the dogs briefed so everything went so smooth. The man earns his money. Now I'm wondering if I can afford to join in next year if any regulars drop out. Dead man's shoes normally for a place on this day. My good fortune that a few cancelled at short notice. 

My son shot his Miroku MK70 and clear pigeon. I stayed with my tried and tested used for virtually everything Miroku MK38 sporter, choked 1/2 & 1/4. Used 30.5g x 6s, Clever mirage.

My first driven day since 1972 and that was grouse. (Beaters day)

My son took this picture of me, waiting, turned slightly to avoid the sun.

 

 

 

Nice write up - enjoyed it. 

[JDog]

I am now going for a lay down after reading that. However I must say it was an exceptional report of your day on the shoot.

[London Best]

A very enjoyable read, thank you.

I loved the bit where you said, “I now see why folk pay over the odds to go on these days.”  I spend all my money to do it! So many don’t see it.

[scobydog]

Great write up, glad you enjoyed the day .

[7daysinaweek]

What a fantastic account of your day. 

[Peteg]

Great evening read. Cheers for the memories and the time spent hitting buttons

[WalkedUp]

Well worth the long wait,  almost 50 years. Sounds like a great day. 

[fallowbuck]

Da Iawn!👌