Bring Back Quail Hunting

It’s a difference in perspective. It’s a difference in generations. If you asked me, I would tell you that quail hunting was for the wealthy, more of a status symbol than an actual hunting activity per se. My father-in-law, however, would tell you that it was a poor man’s game back in his day. Why such differing opinions?

My father-in-law was born in 1944 and grew up on a farm in Coffee County. He recalls that his family, who owned the farmland, seemed just as poor as the tenants who lived on the land. “We all worked hard in the fields. We all played the same games. We all ate the same food,” he remarked. “And everyone had a garden.” Those gardens were key to keeping quail around.

Back then, when my father-in-law would have time in the winter, he and his brother would take an old mix pointer dog and romp around in the woods. They wouldn’t have to go far. “There was always at least one covey of quail near the gardens.” Those two boys would hunt all day sometimes, hunting single birds after a few covey flushes.

When I was growing up as a kid in the 90s, the only people I knew who really did a lot of quail hunting were people of high business status. Even though it was not uncommon for me to spook a covey on my way to a deer stand, my group of hunting buddies never got interested in trying to pursue that type of hunting. I reckon we thought it was too expensive to get into. In time, I would get asked to accompany someone on a paid hunt with put-out quail. I always had a fun time, but the process was very structured and predictable. My view of quail hunting had not really changed. Then, I met my future father-in-law.

He opened my eyes to the other world of quail hunting, a type of hunting that anyone could do. Granted, it takes a decent bird dog to be able to sniff out a wild covey, but you don’t need a professional trainer to accomplish this. It just takes some time and a love for what you are doing. This love led my father-in-law to train an Irish Setter that would go on to become a 2000 National Champion. My father-in-law says that he did not have any professional-grade equipment or techniques, just some patience and passion for the sport. One thing I will add is that he also has a vast understanding of the game bird he hunts.

Recently, my father-in-law took me to a south Georgia WMA to run his bird dogs and look for a wild covey. I hadn’t given much thought to pursue quail on public land, but that particular place was managed beautifully for this type of hunting. The countless gopher tortoise holes in the sandy soil attested to that. During the hunt, I had an epiphany moment when the thought occurred to me that this was doable for anyone interested in the sport. It only takes one covey to make your season remarkable, but a covey does not define your success.

The day we went, it was beautiful and cold. The dogs ran well. We were refreshed. And we covered some prime quail territory. Walking along on the edge of a previously planted dove field, we suddenly saw the two dogs pointed, stone-still. My heart rate shot up as I nearly ran to catch up to the dogs. I could feel the pulse in my ears, the excitement was so strong. After snapping a quick picture of the dogs, my father-in-law and I crept ahead of the dogs. We kicked around in the briars, but nothing flew. “False alarm,” I heard my father-in-law say. At that point, I did not even care. The anticipation was worth it all.

We left the woods that day with no quail encounters, but I label the hunt as a success. It was the overall experience that made it memorable. My father-in-law is 78 years old, and there is no guarantee that we will ever chase wild birds on public land together again. Hopefully we do, but I will forever remember this first quail hunt on public land and what it has taught me.

It’s all a matter of perspective, and thankfully my mindset about the sport has changed.  I will be sure my two sons have a different view of quail hunting than I did as a kid.

And I have just the spot to show them.