Northwest Arkansas Democrat-Gazette
Pheasant fest
Arkansans break out 16-gauges for South Dakota hunt
GREGORY, S.D. — A bird as big and as slow as a pheasant should be easy to shoot.
If you believe that, you’ve made your first mistake before even loading your shotgun. From there, the errors only compound.
Pheasants reinforced that lesson while hunting in South Dakota on Sept. 2022 with a group of Arkansans at Wild Wings Hunting Service, a pheasant hunting establishment in Gregory, S.D. The group included federal judge Bill Wilson of Bigelow, Skip Henry of Little Rock, Greg Graham of Little Rock, Lance Miller of Little Rock, Ed Harshman of Osceola, John Logan of Osceola, James Riddle of Osceola, Jerry Lovelace of Springdale, David Burnett of Jonesboro, Monty Davenport of Yellville and Dr. Joe Thomas of Blytheville.
Gregory — population 1,255 — is to pheasant hunting what Stuttgart is to duck hunting. In 1992, Fortune magazine cemented the town’s status by dubbing it “Ground Zero of Pheasantdom.” The phrase adorns a sign above a giant pheasant statue near Gregory High School, home of the Gorillas, a nine-man football powerhouse. One of their cheers is “Go bananas!” Game day props too big and bulky to store indoors rest in iron cages to protect them from rivals in nearby Burke and Winner.
The country is verdant and rolling with vast swaths of corn, milo, millet, alfalfa and prairie grass. Together, it forms a tapestry of feeding and escape cover for pheasants, whose numbers are augmented by preserves that raise and release birds.
South Dakota’s statewide pheasant season runs Oct. 19-Jan, 5, but the season for private shooting preserves runs Sept. 1-March 31. Private shooting preserves contain a mixture of wild and released pheasants, but every pheasant taken on a preserve must be tagged. Preserve owners must release an equal number of birds to that taken.
If, for example 800 pheasants are taken on a preserve, the preserve’s records must show that at least 800 rooster pheasants were released on the acreage before the season. It is essentially a “nonet-loss” program, but some preserves, like Wild Wings, release hens as well as roosters to encourage natural reproduction.
Hunting pheasants on preserves is not like hunting on facilities where birds are released the day of the hunt. South Dakota Game, Fish and Parks regulations require birds to be released between Aug. 1-March 31. On the first day of the season, roosters will have been living in the wild for 30 days, by which time they will be essentially wild and fully adapted to their environment.
To our dismay, we encountered hot, dry weather on Sept. 25 when Wilson, Davenport and I arrived in Gregory. That meant poor scent conditions and highly taxing running conditions for bird dogs.
For me, this was a 16-gauge-only expedition. I brought two, a Browning Auto-5 Sweet Sixteen and a 1965 Beretta Silver Hawk. Graham also brought a pair of 16s, including a Browning Citori Gran Lightning and a vintage Marlin Model 90. The Citori is a work of art. The Marlin oozes tradition, and Graham favored it.
Likewise, Davenport brought a new, unfired Browning A5 Sweet Sixteen. It was a birthday present from his granddaughter Emma Grace and is factory engraved with her initials. Wilson also brought a 16-gauge Remington 870 Wingmaster.
In addition, Wilson brought a 28-gauge Wingmaster. Dr. Thomas brought a Remington Model 1100 28-gauge which he used with devastating effect.
A visit to Gregory begins with a stop at Runnings Fleet and Farm Store. There you’ll meet manager Chad Stevicks, who knows the prices and particulars of all South Dakota hunting licenses. We bought preserve hunting licenses for $110 each, as well as a $5 dove hunting permit.
Even thought I brought six boxes of ammo, I found myself thumbing additional boxes of 16-gauge ammo. I finally shook myself out of the impulse-buying mode with a silent, “Come on, man!”
I did, however, buy a pair of Berne bird hunting trousers, constructed with burr repelling fabric from the hem to the crotch, and also on the back to the top of the calf. For 20 years I wore Filson waxed canvas chaps. They work fabulously, but they are heavy, and you must wax them. The trousers are much lighter and cooler, and they work.
On Friday, we went afield with George Johnson, who co-owns Wild Wings with his brother Jeff Johnson, and Gavin Pochop, of Gregory but currently of Little Rock. Johnson, an attorney, served as Wilson’s law clerk about 20 years ago, as does Pochop now. Mac Johnson of Gregory also joined us, along with a veritable pack of dogs and their respective handlers.
Despite the conditions, the morning got off to a good start when I bagged a rooster with my first shot afield with my Beretta. The video is available on the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette’s online and replica editions. From there, I experienced pure frustration and futility that continued until the end of the second day. Many witnesses attest to your misses. Jeering flows freely and loudly.
My instinct is to believe I lead too much, so I often shorten my lead and shoot behind birds. The fact is that I tend to lift my head when shooting a side-by-side shotgun, which guarantees missing. It is a habit I am determined
to conquer.
For all the birds I missed, Graham, Henry, Harshman and Thomas more than made up for them. Few birds got past them. From his permanent position as a blocker, Wilson killed roosters as well, but the Wild Wings crew refuses to ever give him credit. It is part of the tradition.
Davenport was ecstatic because he killed a rooster with the first shot he ever fired from “Emma Grace.”
The third and final day was cool and moist, perfect for bird dogs. I switched to the Auto-5 and promptly dumped the first three birds that came my way. Many people loathe Auto-5’s 90-degree sighting plane, a result of its signature “hump.” I love it because it anchors my head to the stock. Those first three birds were difficult shots. I missed two easy ones, including a bird I could have hit with my hat.
“How do you hit three hard birds and miss two easy ones?” asked George Johnson, who witnessed.
“Same way I play golf,” I said. “I can lay a 7-iron 6 feet from the cup from 160 yards, but I’ll miss the putt.”
Johnson, a fellow golfer, laughed in commiseration.
The hunting was so good on the third day that we forgot about the difficult days. We were tired but satisfied as we rolled the tires south to Arkansas.