Hunting has always been a passion for people here in the open plains of South Dakota. Walking in the tall cattails or corn rows hunting pheasants and yelling “ROOSTER” as the hunter takes down the most prominent game bird in the South Dakota fields is one of the many joys of a sport that brings South Dakotans together. Climbing into the tree stand waiting for the “Big One” to walk out of the surrounding forest or vast wilderness will get any true hunter’s adrenaline running! I will be sharing my experience of my first pheasant hunt as a young boy, sharing the thrill of being in the heart of the wild in South Dakota.
Waking up early on opening day always got my blood pumping as I waited with eager anticipation for the thrill of taking that first step into the fields of the South Dakota prairie. On that first opening day morning, Dad busted through the door in excitement commanding me to wake up, eat breakfast, and get my equipment ready! I sprang out of bed remembering that in a few short hours I would be walking fields next to the older and wiser hunters for the first time. Before we made it to the field, Dad refreshed me on the importance of gun safety as he repeated the cardinal rules to me: always keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot, and always point your weapon in a safe direction. Once the rules of safety were discussed, we loaded the truck with everything we needed and headed off!
Shortly before arriving at the first field that we would walk, I felt my heart beating relentlessly as I imagined the thrill of all the scenarios that could possibly play out. At 11:55, five minutes before legal shooting hours, I stood before the tall, wild grass that held the beloved Ring-neck Pheasant. As I stood there, a great fear overcame me. The grass was twice as tall as I was! I was thinking about how in the world I would make my way through this vast jungle that was set before me. At 12:00, it was time to start walking into the abyss. Dad was to my right, my uncle to my left. I swallowed the lump in my throat and took that step into my first pheasant hunt.
After a short time of walking in the tall grass and not knowing what to expect on this adventure, something popped out of nowhere rustling the grass, fluttering its wings several steps in front of me. The creature startled me so bad I fell backwards into the tall grass! While I recollected myself and tried to figure out what just happened, Dad yelled, “HEN, don’t shoot!” That was my first experience of pheasant hunting. I understood there was nothing to be afraid of as I walked through the overarching grass, and I was set and determined to be ready for the next ring neck pheasant to fly up! As I walked through the field a short distance later, I heard another pheasant rustling the grass and about to fly up. Not knowing where it was, I got my gun up to my shoulder, took aim and anticipated taking a shot.
A few seconds later, a rooster jumped up and took off in front of my dad! He took aim, shot at it, and missed! He shot again, and the rooster fell to the ground into the tall grass. Dad ran up in excitement, reached down to pick up the rooster and held up his prize in the sky to show me how a proper hunt was done! I only took three or four steps more into the grass until another pheasant flew up in front of me, and another, and another! “Hen, hen, ROOSTER!” Dad shouted. I quickly shouldered my weapon, clicked off the safety, and squeezed the trigger, BANG! To my surprise, the pheasant started tumbling in the air and fell to the ground! In excitement, I ran forward to look for my first prize in the tall grass. I found myself twenty feet from where I shot, moving and flushing the grass around where I thought it landed without any luck finding it. Several minutes passed by without finding the pheasant. I was starting to lose hope. Maybe I only injured it and it ran off, or maybe a coyote ran off with it. Many thoughts were running through my young mind as I kept looking. As it was time to get back in a line and start walking the rest of the field, I took one final glance behind a patch of thick grass and there it lay! I called out to Dad in excitement “I found it!” I picked it up and raised it high like a professional Olympian holding up his gold medal! Dad looked over with a smile on his face that showed me he was proud of his son! Adrenaline pumped through my veins as the excitement overcame me. I had shot my first rooster pheasant! As we finished the walk to the other end of the field, several more pheasants sprang up and were shot down to fill the limit of game birds. I didn’t get to take a shot at another bird, but all was well because I got my first pheasant! This South Dakota pheasant shoot sparked a love for the thrill of the hunt that has been with me to this day, and hopefully forever!
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