What has worked for you?  Do you need ideas on how to get this started?  Shoot me an email at jason@salesproxie.com.  I would love to hear from you.  For more ideas on social media marketing for the outdoor industry, visit my blog www.mudontheboots.com.

Outdoor Hub, The Outdoor Information Engine - Is Your Bragging Board Brag-Worthy?

Trail camera pictures clutter my computer’s desktop and congest my electronic photo library; thousands of whitetail pictures filed into hundreds of archived folders, which are then saved to several sub-folders. I’ve managed to sort through the good, bad and the ugly to find some of my very favorite images of 2011.

Below you will find some neat snapshots taken from a slew of Moultrie cameras at a good friend of mine’s whitetail outfitting operation. Mark Schuh, owner Schuhter’s Outpost in Buffalo County, Wisconsin – where big buck photos are of plenty has made trail cameras his virtue and prized possession to putting his clients on mature whitetail.

Early seasons bucks are simply incredible. Their sleek muscular body combined with the light summer coat and fuzzy antlers makes for a stellar shot, especially if he has headgear like this buck shown above. This near 200” buck was photographed throughout the entire summer and into hunting season before making a presence on some lucky hunter’s wall last year. This particular photo of him was captured during a morning as he browsed through one of Mark’s hunting plots consisting of Evolved Harvest’s ProVide, a mixture of forage clover and chicory.

The next photo is of a deer I was lucky enough to kill during the Wisconsin archery opener. He was nicknamed “High Tower” and for a good reason. This 4-½ year old production of Buffalo County’s very finest had skyscraping tines that blossomed out of his gnarly main beams. His knack for deception and clever skill set deemed him one of the most sought after trophies on Mark’s deer infested farms.

We were able to capture him on trail camera several times before sneaking into his living room with perfect wind conditions and successfully put an arrow into him at 20 yards. I’m now able to look at the handsome shoulder mount on my wall and share fond memories with friends thanks to analyzing photographic evidence of High Tower’s uncanny travel patterns chronicled from a stealthy trail cam.

My last photo of choice is Mark’s late season muzzleloader kill. This 11-point Boone & Crockett animal loved the camera, but duped every hunter that tried slapping their tag on him. During a fresh snowfall and severe drop in temperature, I was able to film Mark killing this world-class whitetail after pinpointing where he was the night before by checking cameras.

Trail cameras provide an immense amount of data about whitetail’s daily characteristics and lifestyle trends. It’s almost like breaking into the mystical culture of North America’s most popular big game species. I find it even more alluring that photos script into unforgotten memories, which tell stories. I will always find a photograph to be truly spectacular in so many ways. I urge everyone to use these tactical devices to help improve your own hunting insight and increase the storage on your very own memory bank!

Got any good trail cam pics to share? Post them in the comments below!

Outdoor Hub, The Outdoor Information Engine - A Camera’s Killer Sense: Trail Camera Pictures from the Field

This article comes courtesy of John M. Buol, Jr. of FirearmUserNetwork.com. Check out his site for more articles like this.

When I was volunteering as a certified hunter education instructor for the Wisconsin DNR, they published a compiled list of statistics for each season’s hunt. Being one of the top ten states for deer hunter participation, this makes an interesting and accurate case study. Let’s go over the lessons learned from the compiled numbers and see what we can discover about trends in field shooting and safety skills of hunters.

First, the good news. Organized events, even those as rudimentary as basic hunter education, are marvelously effective at improving safety skills. In 1907, decades before hunter education was established, there were 97 reported firearm mishaps statewide of which 41 resulted in death. The total deer harvested count was about 6,000.

In 2002, over five decades after the first hunter education program was established, the number of incidents was less than half that (47 total) despite a much larger hunting population taking the field: 618,945 licenses sold with 277,959 deer harvested.

According to the National Safety Council there is currently an average of seven firearm-related incidents for every 100,000 hunters in the United States. Wisconsin’s 2002 rate works out to 7  incidents for every 92,184 licensed hunters; close to the established national average.

This is yet more proof how safe shooting and hunting can be IF participants bother attending even the simplest, organized, skill-building event. Wisconsin’s hunter education course is a scant 10 hours with a large number of topics in the curriculum and there is no shooting proficiency test or standard. Twelve-year olds find the coursework simple. Worst of all, no follow-on events are offered or even suggested. Yet, the difference between the most vestigial training and none is astonishing.

Hunter education instructors and administrators deserve a pat on the back. Not too hard, though, as there are still a number of embarrassing problems to iron out.

In other articles and reports I’ve pointed out that about a third of all hunting “accidents” are self-inflicted and half are perpetrated by a hunting party member (someone the offending hunter knew was there.) That means there is no acceptable excuse for at least 80 percent of the mishaps.

The 2002 statistics prove this yet again. 14 of the 47 incidents (29.78%) were self inflicted and 24 of the incidents (51.06%) involved a hunter shooting a member of his or her own party. These incidents can be traced to abject incompetence due to unfamiliarity.

Actual hunting experience, without continuing range experience and training, is of little help. Tim Lawhern, Wisconsin’s Hunter Education Administrator, has noted in print that hunters with a number of years of hunting experience are often some of the worst offenders, not the new, inexperienced kids.

The numbers bear this observation out. Nearly half of the perpetrators (22 out of 47, 46.8%) were over the age of 35 and had hunted without mishaps for years. How can this be?

A new hunter takes basic hunter education and learns rudimentary skills. The tentative newbie is cautious with the lessons fresh in his mind. Unfortunately, after this one required event most hunters do nothing to further their field shooting and handling skills beyond this kindergarten level. As the years pass with incident-free hunts, and with nothing done to relearn and reinforce lessons learned, complacency sets in.

We see this with alarming frequency when adult hunters attend a field day with their kids – at least when we can get them to actually toe the line and shoot in front of the class. I’ve learned that the “experienced” hunter often has to be watched even closer than the kids at first. The new student’s safety procedures are just beginning to approach the Consciously Competent level. He may have to think about it first, but he knows what to do. The hunter who has neglected to reinforce these lessons too often reverts back to the Unconsciously Incompetent level, and doesn’t realize how much of the little skill obtained years back at the mandatory hunter education class has been forgotten. The most basic safety protocol violations, improper muzzle control and failing to keep fingers clear of the trigger, have to be watched for and corrected for a few rounds before the hunter begins to remember them again. Without a semi-regular refresher, such as a class, match, or other event, too many hunters learn the hard, painful way and end up as statistics in reports like this.

I’m continually amazed and disappointed at the number of really dumb and preventable gun mishaps. Some typical examples:

• “Victim reholstered pistol after a shot with finger on trigger, shot self in thigh.”
• “Victim had safety off and finger on trigger, shot self in foot.”
• “Victim sat down against tree and gun discharged.”

The numbers confirm the need for skill-refreshing events. Nearly two-thirds of the self-inflicted incidents (9 out of 14, 64.2 percent) involved hunter education graduates shooting themselves, and exactly three-quarters of the perpetrators who shot their hunting partner (18 out of 24, 75 percent) were graduates as well.

This is NOT a condemnation of the hunter education curriculum or instructors, rather, it is further evidence of the need to provide and promote adequate follow-on activities and sufficient participation by the majority of hunters and gun owners. As noted above, the most basic training experience makes a huge difference. It’s the follow-up, getting rank-and-file gun owners and hunters to bother to show up to shoots once in a while, where we drop the ball.

In summary:

• Organized, skill building events work! The huge drop in negligence due to hunter education proves it.
• Follow on experience is essential or the lessons will be lost. A mandatory, one time event is not enough.
• Raw number of years spent hunting is a poor indicator of skill. Hunters sometimes wait a year (or more!) between hunts. Refreshing skills in between through organized shooting events is vital.

Outdoor Hub, The Outdoor Information Engine - Lessons Learned from Hunter Education: Keep Learning!

This article comes courtesy of John M. Buol, Jr. of FirearmUserNetwork.com. Check out his site for more articles like this.

The effective range of the .30-30 is about 150-170 yards. Some of the wizzy new Magnums can outperform this by roughly 300 percent, at least on paper. But can the hunter outperform the .30-30? Can you?

The .30-30 WCF (Winchester Center Fire) was a hot little number when first debuted in 1895 but today’s hunters complain about this “obsolete” antique. Standard wisdom states this cartridge is best contained within a range of 100-175 yards. A .30-30 will push a 150-170 grain bullet out at approximately 2200 fps or so. With a 150 yard zero, the bullet will be about two inches above line of sight at 100 yards and around five inches low at 200.

Few hunters possess enough shooting skill that warrants better performance than this. Are you one of them? Find out with the .30-30 Drill.

Begin by getting a good 150 yard zero for that anemic .30-30 (or whatever your favorite hunting rifle is chambered in). Set up a Y-ring steel target at 150 yards. If you don’t have a quality, self-resetting steel target that is about 8-10 inches in diameter, a paper dinner plate at 150 yards makes an ersatz substitute. Get a shooting timer, or a buddy with a whistle and stop watch, to record the time.

Start from standing up. On the start signal adopt a sitting position and fire one aimed shot at the plate. Stand back up and repeat the drill for a total of three shots. After completing this three string/three round sequence from the sitting position, do it again adopting and shooting from prone.

We are shooting at the distance we zeroed giving point-of-impact at point-of-aim on a nice, level playing field with no intervening brush, trees, etc. All the shooting is done from the two most stable positions available in the field. Furthermore, the target is presented whole, as opposed to a large animal with the vital zone hidden somewhere inside, thus eliminating the need to estimate target angle. Just hold center and let ‘er rip!

Regardless of elapsed time, a hunter claiming to need something better than a .30-30 should get at least 5 hits out of 6 shots (83% hits) or better on this six MOA target every time. If so, our hero can actually make use of the ballistic capability provided by a .30-30 or equivalent for field shooting. If not, their maximum effective range in field shooting is shorter than 150 yards and the capability of a .30-30 rifle exceeds their present level of skill.

A more competent hunter-shooter who can get those same hits in ten seconds per shot or less just might benefit from a “better” rifle. They possess sufficient skill to warrant extended range.

Variations:

We can repeat this drill out even further. Use the same target and set at 200, 225, 250, 300, or out as far as you dare. Give the shooter an extra three seconds or so for every 50 yards beyond 150. Sight in appropriately and shoot. For example, .308/.30-06 and cartridges of similar ballistics can set their zero to 200-250 yards.

Outdoor Hub, The Outdoor Information Engine - Shooting Skills for Hunters: The .30-30 Drill

Author’s Note: Even if you’re not a professional deer hunter, if you do the work that professional deer hunters do, you can take bucks like a pro. Most professional hunters hunt year-round. Here’s the tactic that some of the most consistent deer hunters in the nation use to help them find and take the biggest bucks on the property they have to hunt throughout deer season.

“To take the biggest deer on the properties I hunt, I start putting out a deer attractant like C’Mere Deer in mid-May,” Jason Harvison who lives north of Nashville, Tennessee, explains. “Throughout the late spring and early summer, I put trail cameras in the places I hunt much of the year, to make sure I have quality bucks to hunt during deer hunting season. Other hunters set out feeders to determine the number of bucks they’ll have to hunt each year, before the season arrives. You can also watch the antler growth as the bucks come into velvet in the spring and summer and learn which areas of the property should have the biggest deer.”

The next step, once you know which areas are holding the biggest deer, is to determine what natural food sources the deer are feeding on during daylight hours at different times of the year. Your state wildlife biologist can provide that type of information for you. Try to find those natural food sources as close as possible to the area where you’ve been feeding or attracting deer. This is especially true if you’re hunting in a state that doesn’t permit baiting of deer; fertilize these regions of naturally-occurring deer foods. Then when you can no longer bait or feed the deer, the deer will come to the spots where you have been feeding deer and eat the natural browse during hunting season. Because you’ve put in the work before the season to train the deer to be where you want them to be, your chances of taking bucks at those sites will be greatly increased. Even though this tactic isn’t guaranteed, using this strategy, you often can find the biggest buck on the property, determine the number of bucks you’ll to have to hunt and attract those bucks to certain spots in the woods where you want to try and take them.

This is just a sample of what you’ll learn in the new Kindle eBook, “Deer and Fixings.” by John E. Phillips. Go to Amazon.com to order the book and download it to your Kindle, and/or download a Kindle app for your iPad, smart phone or computer to read the book with.

Outdoor Hub, The Outdoor Information Engine - Now’s the Time to Find a Big Deer to Take in the Fall

Did you know that the rut has happened as early as October in Illinois?  There is one factor that will start the rut a month or month and a half early.  Do you know what it is?  Temperature!

The reason the cold temperature will trigger the rut early is because that is how nature helps put the scent of does in heat all over the woods.

This is how nature helps the bucks find the does.  When a deer smells you 99% of the time, what does he smell?   He smells your perspiration.  He also smells it in a liquid state.  In fact, all animals smell in a liquid form, even a snake runs his tongue out to pick up the moisture from the air to help him determine what is around him. When you are really hot and it is very cold outside, you give off a lot more perspiration.  The same is true with does in heat.  This is why it is called “in heat.”

A doe’s temperature rises to about 112 degrees when she is in heat.  An example of this theory can be seen if you have ever peed outside when it was very cold.  Steam from the warm liquid goes straight up and then down and all around.  A deer has a normal body temperature of 104 degrees.  When she is in heat, the scent steam is coming off of her private parts and everywhere she goes it floats all through the woods sticking to every bush, blade of grass and tree it comes in contact with.

If you have ever owned a female dog that has come in heat, you will notice every male dog around – most of whom you’ve never laid eyes on before is at your house trying to find your female dog.  How did they know where to come?  Scent.  Specifically, the scent of the dog in heat which has been carried throughout the neighborhood and deposited on every bush and blade of grass around.  That is why male dogs go around smelling every bush they come by

This is identical to the steam or perspiration coming off of the doe in heat and being carried down through the woods by prevailing winds and sticking to every bush it comes in contact with.   When a buck smells this scent, especially a 5 or 6 year-old, he smells the liquid form of the scent and knows it is the real thing.  He won’t question scent in a liquid form that is disseminated through the air.  He will come straight to the source – or doe – to mate every time.

This is where The Vapor Maker comes into play.  The Vapor Maker is the only scent dispersal system on the market that you have total control of.  It requires no batteries because it is a pump up bottle that holds 16 oz. of liquid.  It has a special atomizing tip that will take any kind of scent and put it in the air exactly like nature does.  It also has a 3 foot hose with a clip to hook to a limb down wind or out to your side in a tree stand.  Because the bottle is made of a durable plastic you cannot hurt it or break it if you drop it from the tree stand. You can turn the bottle on by turning the ball valve, and with a 3 mph wind it will carry the scent 1/8 of a mile through the woods.  The more wind, the further the scent will go.  As you walk through the woods you can spray the bushes and low hanging tree limbs to lay a scent trail straight to your stand.  Because scent in the air in a liquid form is the natural way deer smell, it needs to be watered down.  A deer can smell 1000 times better than you and I.  If it is strong to you it will overpower the sensitive olfactory system of a deer.  You have to make the smell the same as nature does in order to fool the deer.

Deer are naturally inquisitive and may do anything at any time, but we want them to do it all the time because it is a natural instinct.  So a 1 oz. bottle of a strong scent would need about 8 oz. of water to make it smell natural.  At Vapor Trail Scents, LLC our scents are 100% natural – made from a food source deer and other animals love.   We gather the food source and make the scent ourselves.  We have found that 8 oz. of water to 4 oz. of our scent, My Sheila Doe in Heat, is perfect to fool all the bucks in your neck of the woods.

We also make the only cover scent and attractant – 33 Point Buck – that will eliminate the smell of gasoline.  The 33 Point Buck is so good we have a patent on it. We have tested it against all the top scent killers on the market and the 33 Point Buck consistently beat out the competition in eliminating all types of scents.

We are confident the 33 Point Buck will totally cover up your scent.  Used with the Doe in Heat, these two make an unbeatable pair to optimize your hunting experience.  We recommend 4 oz. of 33 Point to 4 oz. of water.  You can also spray it directly on your clothing using The Vapor Maker.

Our company also makes Dominant Buck and Wapiti Scents.  Read about us and our products at www.vaportrailscents.com

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JkdKvC02Z1A

Outdoor Hub, The Outdoor Information Engine - How Animals Really Disperse Scent

Looking for a quick and easy solution for dinner tonight? Here’s a twist on a classic recipe for stroganoff that will spice up your dinner menu and create a meal the whole family will be talking about. Plus it’s a great way to clean out the freezer and get ready for this year’s Elk season.

Serves 6

Inactive Prep Time:  20-30 minutes

Cooking Time:  Approximately 20 minutes

Ingredients:

• 1 lb elk round steak
• ½ tsp kosher salt
• ½ tsp freshly ground black pepper
• 2 Tbsp Worcestershire Sauce
• 2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil, divided
• 1 Tbsp butter
• 1 medium onion, thinly sliced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 12 oz. button mushrooms, quartered
• 1 Tbsp fresh thyme, chopped fine, divided
• 1 Tbsp fresh dill, chopped fine, divided
• 1 Tbsp flour
• 1/3 cup red wine (or dry sherry)
• 1 cup low sodium beef stock or beef broth
• 8 oz sour cream, divided
• Additional salt, pepper and Worcestershire Sauce to taste
• Egg noodles, cooked per package directions (top with butter after cooking and draining)

Directions:

Slice elk into thin strips about 2 inches long and place in a bowl.  Add salt, pepper, Worcestershire Sauce and 1 Tbsp of the olive oil,   Stir to combine.  Set aside to marinate at room temperature for 20-30 minutes.

Melt butter in large skillet over medium-high heat; add remaining olive oil.  Add elk and cook for approximately 2-3 minutes, turning to sear all sides.  Remove elk from heat and set aside.  (Elk will not be cooked through.)

Add onion to skillet and cook until soft, 3-4 minutes.  Add garlic and cook for 1 minute.  Add mushrooms, half of the thyme and half of the dill.  Cook for 5-6 minutes, or until onions are very soft and mushrooms are cooked through.

Sprinkle the flour over the onions and mushrooms and cook for about 1 minute, stirring frequently.  Add the wine and scrape the brown bits from the bottom of the pan.  Stir in the beef stock and cook for 2-3 minutes.  Reduce the heat to medium low and stir in half of the sour cream until well-blended.  Stir in the remaining thyme and dill.

Add the elk back to the skillet and cook until the meat is cooked to medium doneness, about 3-4 minutes.  Serve over hot buttered noodles and top with remaining sour cream at the table.

Tip:  After each addition of vegetables, add a few dashes of additional Worcestershire Sauce and a few grinds of black pepper.  Finish the dish with a very light sprinkling of salt, to taste.  I use homemade stock made with no salt.  If you’re using canned beef broth or salt, use less salt in the dish.  Be sure to taste the sauce before adding more salt.

Jessica Beaver is the Accounting Coordinator for the Union Sportsmen’s Alliance. An award-winning amateur chef and baker, Beaver enjoys the challenge of developing recipes for big game, fish and more that can be seamlessly integrated into a busy family’s lifestyle.

Outdoor Hub, The Outdoor Information Engine - Quick and Easy Elk Stroganoff Recipe

In Part I of the series “Dove Hunting in Argentina Beretta Style” we talked about our mission: To determine if a 12 gauge is overkill, compared with sub-gauge shotguns, for high-volume dove shooting in Argentina. In Part II, we reach our first hunting destination, the Sierra Brava Lodge. In Part III, we head to Estancia Los Chañares for the final part of our journey. Check out Shotgun Life for more articles like this.

The van drive from the Sierra Brava Lodge to Estancia Los Chañares lasted only thirty minutes, but our arrival was heralded by an explosion of brilliant flowers that clearly showed we had stepped up a notch in amenities.

Estancia Los Chañares enjoys a reputation as being among the most luxurious wingshooting destinations in Argentina. The front patio and lounge area accessible by large glass doors are floored with Spanish tile. Plush sofas invite conversations. Across the lawn was a swimming pool and outdoor grill. A long picnic table was set with crystal, white bone china, hefty flatware and bottles of Argentinian Malbec in preparation for a mixed-grill lunch under a picturesque shade tree.

My friend, Rick Cundiff, had accompanied me from Sierra Brava Lodge to Estancia Los Chañares, and we were impressed with our rooms. The accommodations featured opulent materials including tile and marble, which offered an upscale aesthetic that honored the Spanish heritage. At the same time, a timbered, dark wood ceiling complemented the harder surfaces with a warmer feel. There were two twin beds with plenty of space to move around and stow your gear. The private bath was elegant and spacious.

Rick Cundiff in a dove blind at Estancia Los Chañares.

The indulgence distinction between the Sierra Brava Lodge and Estancia Los Chañares is by design. Both are owned by Flyways Argentina whose principal is David Perez. In addition, Flyways Argentina operates two other lodges in Córdoba, Posta del Norte and the Paloma Brava Pigeon Lodge. The Sierra Brava Lodge and Estancia Los Chañares are the only destinations in the group recognized by the exclusive Beretta Trident Program.

Overall, the idea behind the Flyways portfolio of lodges is to satisfy the diverse criteria of wingshooters. The Sierra Brava Lodge is the most affordable, and as we noted in the first part of this series, it’s beautifully rustic, immensely comfortable, with exceptional food and avuncular bird boys. Next up is Estancia Los Chañares. Posta del Norte is just as sumptuous as Estancia Los Chañares, but more intimate with six double rooms that have private baths. Posta del Norte is ideal for shooting parties of up to 12 guns who want to lease an entire place for a private hunt.

Aerial view of Estancia Los Chañares.

Paloma Brava Pigeon Lodge is the newest addition to Flyways Argentina. While the wild dove hunting at the other three Flyways destinations is unlimited, there’s a maximum of 200 pigeons per day at Paloma Brava. It’s a one-to-two hour drive from the Flyways dove-hunting lodges to Paloma Brava. Flyways generally recommends a half-day dove hunt combined with a decoyed pigeon hunt at Paloma Brava Pigeon Lodge.

But the clock was ticking and we stayed put at Estancia Los Chañares. Now on the last leg of our six-day hunt to the two Beretta Trident Lodges, I was on a specific mission with precious little time left to fully prove my assumption: to determine whether or not a 12-gauge was overkill, compared with more traditional sub-gauge shotguns, for high-volume dove hunting in Argentina.

My shotguns of choice were two Berettas: an A400 Xplor Unico Light semi-auto with the Kick-Off recoil-reduction system and the Beretta SV10 Prevail also equipped with Kick-Off.

As Beretta explains it, the Kick-Off hydraulic dampening reduction system cuts recoil by some 44% more than its closest rival through the use of two hydraulic recoil dampers incorporated into the stock that compress after the shot – absorbing recoil that would otherwise pile-drive straight into your shoulder.

The lounge area at Estancia Los Chañares.

During my first stint with the guns at the Sierra Brava Lodge, I managed to bag slightly more than 1,000 doves in a single day, but by lunch time, with about 500 birds in the bag, I had started to feel the repercussions of the 12 gauge. Beretta’s claims regarding lower recoil to the shoulder proved true, but the Kick-Off system was less effective on my face. Here’s why: the half-inch compression of the recoil pad into the stock moves the comb back-and-forth along the cheek. Unexpectedly, it was the cheek friction from that travel which proved the bug-a-boo for high-volume wingshooting. Meanwhile, my shoulder was fine – certainly the exception among Córdoba dove hunters.

I had concluded that Kick-Off would be valuable even for grueling clays tournaments. If you were squaded up to shoot 500 clay targets in the course of a day, you’d really appreciate the Kick-Off technology. But if you’re firing 600 to 700 consecutive rounds of relentless, hot-barrel wingshooting during a single morning in Córdoba, you’ve reached the limits of Kick-Off on a 12 gauge.

Beretta’s A400 Xplor Unico Light semi-auto with the Kick-Off.

That said, however, I had opted to press my case and go for a 2,000-bird day at Estancia Los Chañares. Of the two Berettas, I believed the A400 Xplor Unico Light semi-auto would triumph as the shotgun for the job.

The shotgun sported an after-market Muller Featherlight Choke. Muller’s extended chokes are manufactured from aerospace-grade aluminum infused with ceramic Teflon. Jim Muller claims his chokes are lighter than titanium. Instead of conventional constrictions, Muller’s chokes are designated Ü1- Ü4. I used a Ü2 opened to .012 inch for a hybrid improved cylinder/light modified pellet dispersement.

Ready to go, the staff of Estancia Los Chañares would count birds and calculate averages, leaving my initial theory of 12-gauge overkill to play out both on the bottom line of a spread sheet as well as my Baby Boomer body.

If you’ve never dove hunted in Argentina, you may be shocked to see men walking around lodges that cost upwards of $1,000 per day wearing diapers taped to their shoulders, trigger fingers and auto-loading thumbs wrapped in duct tape, and cheeks protected by layers of gauze and Vaseline. Toss out any rational explanation. High-volume dove hunting is the crack cocaine of wingshooting. Waterfowlers and the tweedy set savor the traditions and rituals. The hard-core dove hunters of Córdoba are addicted to the hand-held counter that resembles a stop watch operated by the indigenous bird boys. How many? Cuántos? Click, click, click… Did I get that one? Sí. Click. Muy bien, good shot. Click. Flats of shells are stacked up. The walkie-talkie is ready if you need more.

Estancia Los Chañares was ripe for my challenge. The 9,000-acres of private property occupy the Macha Roost, the largest in Argentina, inhabited by more than 20 million doves considered pestilence by the country’s massive agricultural industry. Since Flyways purchased Estancia Los Chañares in 2005, Mr. Perez and his team have implemented a year-round, game-management program stimulated by cultivating fields of sunflowers, wheat and sorghum. In fact, on the long driveway to the estancia, a rich plot of land fringed with blinds bared sunflower sprouts – promising superlative dove hunting only a five-minute walk from your room.

The sunflower fields on the approach to Estancia Los Chañares. During the sunflower season, phenomenal dove hunting is a few steps from your room.

After unpacking, Rick and I immediately set out for our first hunt of the day. While Sierra Brava keeps visiting groups together for the shoots, Estancia Los Chañares upholds the exclusivity by allocating only one bird boy and shooter to a blind unless otherwise requested.

The truck drove us a few miles through thick foliage, leaving me at a brush blind set in a basin. The immediate area below the blind was recessed and further out was a modest rise. Trees and wild shrubs rose from the rear. The bird boy greeted me.

Hunters at Estancia Los Chañares are shuttled to nearby blinds in this truck that features safari-style seating.

At first, it was nearly impossible to recognize the immeasurable number of doves in the air. They were very close and swarming like mosquitos. It takes a few minutes for your eyes and brain to finally work in unison in order to comprehend the inexhaustible number of birds occupying that basin.

The bird boy stuffed the A400 Xplor Unico Light with 12-gauge shells. I started firing – registering one miss after another. I kept wondering: How is this possible? The answer soon became obvious. I was shooting into the crazy swarm instead of focusing on a single bird. I should have been picking a snowflake out of the blizzard. With that notion in mind, the birds started dropping as I spot-shot them.

Generally, when we hunt birds here in the U.S. there’s a particular symmetry to the shots: incoming or crossing waterfowl, a quartering pheasant – or worst-case scenario a flushed covey of quail that demands immediate target acquisition among, let’s say, five to 10 birds. Now imagine literally being immersed in a wild bird mob that flares when you shoulder the gun.

The A400 Xplor Unico Light handled quickly. Weighing about 6½ pounds, it swung with ease during some of my contortionist shots. By lunch, I had bagged some 650 doves – setting the stage for a 2,000-bird day.

The table setting is ready for a hearty, outdoor lunch at Estancia Los Chañares.

The truck circled around and returned us to the lodge. The chef was already at the outdoor grill packed with meat, a wonderful smoky fragrance wafting through the area on that temperate afternoon. We gathered at the picnic table for a feast of Argentina beef and chicken, abundant salads, wine and other beverages, delivered by the gracious servers. After lunch we retreated for a siesta. I opted for a poolside chaise lounge – a delightful breeze crossing the lawn.

At 2:00 PM, we were back in the truck, which took us to different blinds. The bird boys had moved our gear. The afternoon location stood in direct contrast to the morning blind. I now looked out from a mountain top – a deep ravine below. The view unfolded tree-laden plateaus and undulating ridges. A wind of about 20 mph acted as an afterburner on the doves, and I figured that if I couldn’t get the balance of the 2,000 under these conditions, at least 1,000 for the day seemed plausible.

The view from the mountaintop blind at Estancia Los Chañares.

Compared with the morning hunting spot, the birds here were driven by the wind and scattered over a wider distance. From the edge of the cliff, birds would pop up like a jack-in-the box and swerve past me on the wind – meaning that once you established a bird the shot involved spinning around in an attempt to get it rocketing away.

Incomers were easier, but the shots had to be established long before the birds got close enough to flare off on the wind whenever I shouldered the shotgun – for plenty of 30-40 yard shots. Doves crossing in the ravine also presented long, crossing shots.

Soon, I picked up the rhythm of the place. In particular, by focusing on long incomers I could mitigate the vagaries of the wind. I would line up the bird over the front bead and trigger the shot. Another shot I mastered involved spinning to the right, over my shoulder just as a dove emerged from the other side of a nearby shrub where it couldn’t see the gun. If I saw the bird disappear behind it, I figured out how long before I could come out the other side. The crossing shots in the ravine involved more practice using the swing-through technique, but the incredible volume of these shots let me master them fairly quickly while proving the that the Mulller choke patterned quite well at 30-40 yard range.

The Beretta’s A400 Xplor Unico Light reminded me of the acrobatics you would see on stunt planes. It’s low weight, ideal center of gravity, intuitive trigger and recoil absorbency at the shoulder fostered an aggressive tempo that the bird boy helped maintain with his rapid loading skills. Still, my cheek grew sore from the comb’s friction.

One key to achieving a high dove count in Argentina is the ability to determine a consistent rhythm and stay with it. Fast target acquisition is vital. You need to immediately identify the most viable shot among the thousands of birds and commit to it. Never sit down. Pause for water breaks only. Vary your shots to prevent monotony. You need to constantly be stimulated and dialed into the action.

Some people might call it a Zen state – a gorgeous day on the mountain top, birds everywhere, the instant gratification of seeing one fold, the hyper-vigilance, adrenaline rush – click, click, click.

I kept asking the bird boy How many? Cuántos? and I saw the number continuing from the morning hunt toward 2,000, until once when I asked he showed me the counter: 2,016.

I stopped. We shook hands.

The blind was strewn with empty hulls, shotgun shell boxes and few doves that had fallen nearby. Suddenly, the blind was quiet. The wind carried the muted blasts of fellow hunters at Estancia Los Chañares.

Dinner that night featured delicious steaks, salads, vegetables and Malbec wine. The irrepressible Alex Mitri, managing partner Estancia Los Chañares, served as the master of ceremonies by announcing the day’s scores and rewarding the hunters with hats and shirts of specific denominations. I received my Estancia Los Chañares 2,000 hat.

So what did I learn about using a 12-gauge shotgun for high-volume dove hunting in Argentina?

I would not use a telescoping recoil system. I believe the A400 Xplor Unico Light would have worked better without it. Moreover, the lack of felt recoil to my shoulder with the Kick-Off led me to believe that the overall design of the shotgun would have delivered softer felt recoil over most other semi-autos anyway. If I did it again, the standard A400 Xplor Unico Light would be my top choice.

The best 12 gauge to use for this type of hunting is a semi-auto with a custom-fitted stock. I believe a shotgun like that would be far more comfortable than any subgauge rented by the outfitter.

Upon checking out, Estancia Los Chañares gives you a spread sheet of everyone’s individual performance. Over two days, I harvested 3,197 birds using 153 boxes of shells – for an accuracy rate of 84%, which was the highest of the entire group. At this point, I want to emphasize again that I don’t consider myself an exceptional shot. The point of this exercise was not to rack up bragging rights, but to test a premise.

Rick, who I consider a far better shot than me, was the runner up with 2,723 birds from 136 boxes of shells for an 80% accuracy rate using both a 20 and 28 gauge. Third place registered 77% with 3,334 birds from 173 boxes of shells.

Strictly from the perspective of high-volume hunting in Argentina, I left convinced that 12 gauge was the bore of choice. Wingshooters could easily argue that the big shotgun was less sporting than the smaller gauges, and of course they are right.

Recently, Rick and I were driving north one morning for a day of sporting clays. Our plan called for about 250 targets at two different courses separated by only a few miles. We talked about upland shooting in England, when he said that for the money he would choose Argentina in a heartbeat. I said that they were two different experiences.

He replied, “I know, but I would go back to Argentina first.”

Outdoor Hub, The Outdoor Information Engine - Dove Hunting in Argentina Beretta Style – Part III: Estancia Los Chañares

The alarm clock rang at 4:00am just as we instructed it to. No matter… it was late or I was early, having already been up and showered with hot coffee in hand and boots pulled on by the time that noisy little clock tolled for thee.

My breath hung heavy and suspended through the frigid air, which measured 22F in the wee hours of that starlit morning ahead of the spring turkey season opener in Pennsylvania. I was here with a plan, on a mission and determined to right some wrongs from the prior season.

Pennsylvania, late April 2011: opening day of spring turkey season found me on a high hillside in northern Tioga County. Warm, clear, sunny weather with active gobbling that echoed across the hills and valleys. I was set up near the crest of a steep hill which overlooked a grassy pasture section roughly two hundred yards in length from west to east and one hundred yards wide from north to south. The field in view is not quite flat: it crowns a bit towards the top (north) which leaves a blind spot in the depression where upper edge meets a wood line.

Above me to the north there is a mixed stand of hardwoods to create said wood line. To my left (west) there are a series of pasture grass and tilled fields. Below me (south) is an overgrown woodlot which was once someone’s extensive apple orchard, now in the middle stages of overgrowth with multiflora rose in the lower canopy and various species of ash trees reaching for sunlight above.

On the eastern edge to my right, a thin woodlot connecting the hardwoods ridge and apple orchard below is right where birds tend to roost and stage soon as they fly down. This day was no different: predawn vocals had birds calling from all around, and I watched them gather some eighty yards in front of me before they strung out and walked off in the wrong direction for me to get things done.

It was barely past 6am when the entire flock of turkeys flew into the grassy field’s southeast corner as I expected they would. Seven hens and two mature toms quickly gathered and began making their way in my direction, before veering off course and slipping single file into the ancient apple orchard below me, never to be seen again.

I spent the next hour of daylight softly calling, listening and scrutinizing every stick and twig while waiting for a red and white head to appear. Alas, it was a futile wait as I never did see those birds again. The remainder of that day turned up absolutely zero further sign of them. I stalked around the open field edges across that entire hillside until noon came, eventually leaving empty-handed.

Pennsylvania, late April 2012: opening day of spring turkey season in the exact same location…one year later to the very day, that lesson learned about setup on that staging area from last season burned in the back of my brain ever since. It was an unscratched itch, a sand burr stuck, a nagging two-foot putt left hanging on the lip.

Same story this time as before. My partners dropped me off at the bottom of that hill, 5am EST sharp. I hot-footed my way upwards and arrived on-site around 5:20am. This time I slunk over to the extreme southeast corner where birds all stacked up and marched through last time around.

As I arrived on scene and surveyed the immediate area for a good place to sit, I almost pressed it ten yards nearer to the wood line than where I presently stood. A little voice inside my head spoke of bad experiences learned before when crowding edges led to toms spooked off the roost. That kept me from closing the distance any further, and it’s a good thing. My very next step in place cracked a small branch that was answered by a thundering gobble from just sixty yards away, in the same direction I almost crowded. Pretty good chance that bird would have flown off the roost by the dawn’s early light had I tried getting too close.

While I sat there in the cold frozen air waiting for first rays of sun to peak over the eastern horizon, a tom in front of me to the north and the bird in my back to the east traded gobbles back and forth. I gave two series of soft yelps followed by clucks and purrs on the slate call, then kept quiet.

Around 5:45am I heard several birds fly down through the hardwood branches uphill from me to the north. Five minutes later, the nearby bird on my right followed suit. Now it was time to sit perfectly still, not move a muscle that might rustle leaves and twigs made crispy by the heavy frost which might give my position away.

Right at 6am, two toms appeared from the southeast corner of that field on my immediate right. A young tom with a 6-7″ beard was quartering towards me on a slow walk inside of forty yards. Dead bird, if I wanted him. But just inside the connecting tree line edge was a fanned-out strutter with bright white head glowing in the still early dawn. At fifty-plus yards and inside the trees, he was not in range to harvest yet.

Both birds spent about five long minutes staring hard in my direction, looking for that feathered seductress who purred at them while still in their trees. The lead tom at 35 yards gave my half-hidden blob the hard stare with no apparent reaction either way.

Suddenly, both toms took off running uphill in front of me like they were coyote spooked. My heart sank as what seemed to be the perfect plan coming apart and redemption from last season’s near miss in real danger of repeating itself once more. I quickly looked north and thru the hardwoods there saw another tom entering the field with other birds.

“Oh great,” I thought. “Here’s the boss tom with several hens, all of them with join up and walk away from me in the opposite direction of last year.”

“Drat!” Or at least I quietly muttered something like that to myself.

Turns out there were no other hens to rival my attention… it was four more toms and now a total of six gobblers all congregated in the middle of this field right in front of me. For the next fifteen minutes all six birds engaged in an epic battle where they took turns hopping and pecking and spurring and wrestling one another. Gobbles and yelps and growls and sounds I’ve never before heard a turkey make rumbled across the hillsides. Feathers flew and floated in the air as the six bird melee worked its way north and away from me.

It was one of those epic moments in the woods we all dream about. I had never witnessed a group of wild toms all fighting en masse before, and probably never will see it again. Those birds were so loud, efforts to yelp and cluck to get their attention were drowned out and ignored.

By now the birds had worked their way over the crown of that field and were just barely out of visual sight. The perfect opportunity for me to slightly shift my body position, get the blood flow restored to numbed body parts and prepare for what may come next.

Suddenly, a goshawk or sharp-shinned hawk swooped into view above the toms and let out a couple of screams. At first the toms totally ignored that, but then grew quiet as the royal rumble paused. Here was my chance to get some hen talk heard, so I laid on the slate call with yelps, cackles and clucks.

No response. All I saw was empty, frost-covered field ahead of me.

A few more minutes passed and the sight of heads and tail feathers started to appear above the field’s knoll. The gobbler group heard me, settled their differences and were joining forces to find that willing hen. Six big toms were standing on the crest, some sixty yards uphill and all staring hard in my direction.

Both of the initial birds which walked past me earlier led the charge back down that hill. Same lead bird walking, same strutter fanned out in full display following. They soon closed the distance to roughly forty yards and hung up sideways right there. With a lead bird I did not want to harvest blocking the path to rear bird targeted, I laid there patiently and waited.

The author and his strutting tom

Soon the birds separated enough to offer clear shots at either one, and I sent a 3.5″ round of hevi-shot 5,6,7 blend towards the strutting tom still in full display. Same result as usual with that load from my Remington 870 Supermag: hevi-shot out, very dead bird on the ground.

To be honest I never once saw the beard or spurs on my harvested bird before walking up to fill out the tag and take possession. He remained in full strut the whole time I saw him, which was good enough reason to choose that bird for me. It wasn’t the biggest boss bird ever, a nine inch beard and 7/8″ spurs along with broomed-off wingtips made him a respectable harvest all the way.

I spent the next little while enjoying the actual sunrise, soaking in my view of the surrounding hills and valleys that stretched for miles far as the eye could see. At the precise spot where last year’s Pennsylvania birds walked on out of my life, this year’s bird lay resting and tagged. An entire year spent relived, planned, strategized and visualized in my mind had come to pass and come to completion. On this particular day I had just witnessed an epic scene played out in front of me that most hunters never have the privilege to see.

It was a great day to be alive, on the mountain side and part of the great outdoors experience.

Check out moderntrapper.com for more outdoor stories from Austin.

Outdoor Hub, The Outdoor Information Engine - A Royal Turkey Rumble in the Hills of Pennsylvania

In Part I of the series “Dove Hunting in Argentina Beretta Style” we talked about our mission: To determine if a 12 gauge is overkill, compared with sub-gauge shotguns, for high-volume dove shooting in Argentina. Now in Part II, we reach our first hunting destination, the Sierra Brava Lodge. Check out Shotgun Life for more articles like this.

I had landed at 6:20 PM at Córdoba airport on LAN Argentina flight 4214 from Buenos Aires. My luggage breezed through customs. Now it was time to claim the two Berettas on loan from the company: Beretta’s A400 Xplor Unico Light semi-auto with the Kick-Off recoil-reduction system and the Beretta SV10 Prevail also equipped with Kick-Off would provide the shotguns to stress-test my theory about shooter endurance with a 12-gauge instead of the lower impact subgauges for high-volume dove hunting.

Eduardo waited outside the airport with the Sierra Brava van. At twilight, the air felt fresh, the sky a pastel pallet of lavender, peach and powder blue. He loaded up my luggage, I jumped into the passenger seat and my adventure in Córdoba’s legendary dove hunting took to the road.

Just a sampling of the enormous number of doves at the Sierra Brava Lodge.

Eduardo’s English was excellent, so I was saved the embarrassment of dipping into my high-school Spanish. The last time I resorted to Spanish was in the early 1980s. I had been driving from Paris to San Sebastian, Spain. At the border crossing, the armed guards bombarded me with questions in Spanish. They kept laughing at me, as though they asked “Are you bringing drugs into Spain? Are your carrying automatic weapons, Are you a stupido Americano?” And I kept nodding yes and they kept laughing.

In the Sierra Brava van, we spent the next 70 minutes or so discussing our families and Argentina’s corrosive inflation. Night fell fast as we drove to Sierra Brava on a two-lane highway through the countryside, the landscape reminiscent of East Texas.

The estancia at the Sierra Brava Lodge.

Finally, we turned onto a gated dirt road that sliced through brush. The estancia appeared on my right, a single-story stucco building of coral pink with golden-hued lanterns on either side of the modest entrance. Stepping out of the van, a young woman greeted me with a hot towel served on a silver tray. Outside, the fragrances of a Córdoba summer evening were redolent of sweet meadows with a trace of tropical exotica.

A few farm animals grazed in the fenced pastures. In the distance, the Sierras de Córdoba Mountains appeared a distant purple beneath a moon-lit sky bejeweled with stars. Eduardo unpacked the van. On the front steps of the estancia, Manager J.J Sala had gathered the staff for a formal introduction that set the tone of the hospitality for my stay there. Apparently, hospitality has been a staple here for nearly 140 years.

The edifice dated back to 1874. Originally a Pony Express ranch, the Posta stood as one of many that populated El Camino Real, which connected Peru with Argentina. Travelers ate and rested while the horses were changed. Now, in the 20th century, after flying from the Northern Hemisphere to the Southern, I was ready to continue the legacy with dinner, shower and bed.

Sierra Brava is an affiliate of the Beretta Trident Program, which is the first and only system to rate shooting sports venues. Not an endorsement for purchase, “Tridents” are awarded for excellence, like Michelin stars for restaurants. Only five percent of destinations worldwide merit even a single Trident. The Sierra Brava Lodge was the recipient of one of three possible Tridents for Upland Birds.

The swimming pool at the Sierra Brava Lodge, with the estancia in the background.

Over the past several years, a capital renovations plan at Sierra Brava included a swimming pool, cabana accommodations, several new outdoor cooking and entertaining areas and ongoing improvements throughout the entire property. The pool, a lake and a fire-pit area were clearly evident across the front lawn as I followed my bags inside.

With wrought-iron chandeliers and Spanish-tile floors the immediate impression of the place was of a well-appointed hacienda. There was a macho vibe from the half-timbered ceilings, over-stuffed leather chairs and sofas, dark furniture and trophy heads.

Plaques declared members of the high-volume fellowships that acknowledged takes of 1,000, 2,500, 5,000 and even 10,000 doves in a single day. The extraordinary numbers posted inspired me to think about the hunter’s adage “When there’s lead in the air, there’s hope.” I wanted to down at least 1,000 doves per day, as both a new personal best and to explore my theory about hunter resilience in high-volume bird scenarios with a big-bore 12-gauge.

My room, adjoining the small lobby, was accessible through a pair of stout rustic doors that evoked the original Posta. Two twin beds and a Spanish armoire dominated the ample interior. The wide-plank wood floors, beamed ceiling and wrought-iron chandelier continued the warm décor, accented with indigenous art over the headboard. There was a private bath, small desk and chair, and forged hooks on one wall that easily accommodated my bulky upland outer-wear and camo rain gear.

Even though I had arrived past the scheduled dinner serving, Mr. Sala made sure a hearty steak dinner was at the ready, accompanied by a bottle of Argentina’s celebrated Malbec red. The young waitress was gracious and the chef appeared from the kitchen to check on my meal. Seriously, no exaggeration, it was one of the best steaks I had ever eaten – tender, expertly seasoned and charred to my liking.

Rick Cundiff.

By now my friend Rick Cundiff, whose accommodations fronted the dining room, had joined me at the long table. Rick was absolutely buoyant. As the COO of the investment banking firm Townsend Capital in Hunt Valley, Maryland, he routinely logs 60 to 80 hour weeks putting together deals mostly on clean-energy companies. He had arrived earlier that day, just in time for an afternoon hunt where he bagged more than 400 doves. Away from the office, with a successful shoot already notched, he proved to be in great spirits. J.J had joined us and dinner proceeded with superb companionship. Rick told me that he had spent the afternoon with a bunch of guys from Texas and Arkansas who struck him as some of the funniest people he ever met, and gave me an advance on the anticipated height of hilarity.

Back in my room, satiated on Argentina beef, drunk on Malbec and thoroughly exhausted, I cleaned up then crashed until awakened the next morning by a knock on the door.

Anticipating breakfast and the hunt, fellow guests had gathered in the lobby, drinking coffee as the dining room table set with fruits, toast and cheese awaited the eggs and breakfast meats. Among other men at the lodge, the Texas/Arkansas contingent produced a conspicuous presence of natural-born hunting working men who relished their cigarettes. Randy Craig was there with sons Ryan and Clay, along with family friends Tommy Clafton and Glenn Gilpin.

Polite chit-chat occupied breakfast, but once we piled into the van, those stories from down Texas and Arkansas way started to fly. They usually involved some errant country uncle in overalls who suddenly had to do his business out in the field while hunting birds – and of course the teller of these tales swears up and down that every word of it is 100-percent true, exactly as it happened, completely unembellished. Come the well-timed punch line, we would burst out laughing with tears streaming down our cheeks, ribs aching, rocking back and forth. And the drinking hadn’t even started yet.

The author shooting a 12-gauge Beretta SV10 Prevail in a brush blind, accompanied by a bird boy, at the Sierra Brava Lodge.

The weather was clear and chilly that morning. The ride to the first blind lasted about 10 minutes. At Sierra Brava, the preference is to let parties shoot together. The guys from Texas and Arkansas were dropped off at one blind, a father and son at another, while Rick and I were assigned a brush blind under a sprawling mesquite tree that thrived amid a broad clearing. Straight ahead and to the right, rises covered by vegetation served as dove habitat. Behind us and to the left were crop fields. Each of us worked with our own bird boys – the local guys who speed load the shotguns from the stacked cases, cleaned up the hulls and birds, worked the thumb-operated counters and dispensed the iced beverages stored in a cooler topped by a swivel seat. With all the gear in place, our blind resembled a far-flung encampment.

Of the two Berettas, I opted to start with the A400 Xplor Unico Light semi-auto that had the Kick-Off recoil-reduction system. I had tried the shotgun for the first time in September 2010 at the Cheyenne Ridge Signature Lodge in Pierre, South Dakota. As a Beretta Trident Affiliate, the Cheyenne Ridge Signature Lodge previewed new Beretta shotguns, and fortunately had just taken delivery of the latest 12-gauge A400 Xplor Unico Light with Kick-Off.

Cut-away of a A400 Xplor Unico that reveals the Kick-Off recoil-reduction system in the stock.

On an afternoon pheasant hunt over dogs, the A400 Xplor Unico Light was extremely fast and accurate – perhaps the best semi-auto I had ever shot. It was the hunt at the Cheyenne Ridge Signature Lodge that originally sparked the idea of evaluating the 12 gauge version with Kick-Off for high-volume dove hunts in Argentina.

Just to recap, the A400 Light is the wingshooting version of the original clays model. Both feature an aluminum receiver. The 12-gauge A400 Light is about 6.8 pounds with a 28-inch barrel and Kick-Off – or approximately a half-pound less than an equivalent Beretta A400 Xcel Sporting with 29-inch barrels. The reduced weight comes mostly from a shorter receiver – tradeoff impacting shell sizes and capacity. The A400 Light uses Beretta’s Blink operating system, which can cycle shells ranging from 2¾ to 3½ inches. Factory capacity is 2+1.

The sleek design of the A400 was complemented with a Muller Featherlight choke. Muller’s gloss-black extended chokes are made of aerospace-grade aluminum infused with ceramic Teflon. Jim Muller claims his chokes are half the weight of titanium and one-third the weight of steel. Instead of using conventional constrictions, Muller’s chokes are designated Ü1- Ü4. I used a Ü2 opened to .012 inch. The Ü in white against the black finish of the choke accentuated the state-of-the-art veneer of the A400.

Doves swarming a field at the Sierra Brava Lodge.

At first, I simply stood there under the tree, A400 in hand. It took a moment to recognize the magnitude of the doves. The birds flew solo and erratic, contributing to the initial impression of a patchy quarry. But it was like looking at stars on a clear night. The brightest both catch your attention and overpower the more distant, and then the longer you focus the explosion of light gradually manifests. Soon, I realized that the doves were swarming all around us. I started shooting.

Dove hunting in Argentina is addictive and feverish. Once the birds drop, you want to shoot more and more. Rick and I had originally agreed to a gentlemanly line in the veritable sand: I took the birds on my side of the blind, and he took the ones on his side. Yeah, right. The Muller choke patterned so well that I was able to bring down the fast-flying acrobats 40, maybe 50 yards out, which meant that certain shots became irresistible regardless of our arbitrary boundary. And of course he reciprocated – our zeal fueled by the bird boys who instigated an exuberant competition as to which of us shooters was “numero uno.”

Rick Cundiff about to bag a dove at the Sierra Brava Lodge.

Having shot plenty of sporting clays with Rick, I knew he was the better shooter. That morning he hunted with a 20-gauge over/under (he also brought a 20/28 gauge combo). But the semi-auto and the Muller choke compensated for my deficiency. At the end of the trip, the true “numero uno” emerged after our averages were calculated – eventually proving that the brute force of a 12 gauge provided a critical edge over the subgauge shooters, although the physical toll of the bigger shotgun remained to be assessed by the end of our week together in Córdoba.

The brush blinds of Argentina provide a quick study in developing your own high-volume, dove-hunting strategy. The birds ensured their survival via erratic flight patterns. A raised shotgun barrel would prompt a flare-out, giving pause for a reset. It didn’t take long to realize that spot-shooting delivered the best results with the least effort.

Becoming overwhelmed by the fantastic number of swarming birds is akin to rapture of the deep: an intoxication takes grip and you lose the ability for decisive action. Instead, a cool head must prevail by quickly deciding which bird to shoot next. See it, shoot it, almost straight at it. Long crossers could involve tracking but otherwise if you insist on following the method of butt, belly, beak, bang the additional exertion of keeping the gun up that much longer will contribute to accelerated exhaustion. I found it much easier to hold the gun at the ready and spot shoot.

The author found that spot shooting doves from behind a brush blind worked best for him on the doves of Córdoba. Here he’s shooting a 12-gauge Beretta SV10 Prevail.

As lunch time approached, I had already downed more than 500 doves shooting virtually non-stop. I began to feel the physical repercussions, although completely different than originally expected. Talk to high-volume dove shooters in Argentina and it seems that the first bruises appear in the shoulder area where the butt meets the pocket. The Beretta A400 Light with Kick-Off started to hurt someplace else.

My shoulder was fine, but the constant one-half-inch compression and expansion of the hydraulic dampeners connected to the recoil pad caused the comb to move back and forth against my cheek, which started to swell. The cheek abrasion from the dampening hydraulics, not the direct impact, proved to be the system’s weakness for relentless high-volume shooting.

By now I had reached a few conclusions about the Beretta Kick-Off system. Beretta says Kick-Off can reduce total recoil by up to 70 percent compared with the nearest competitor. Apply that claim to my shoulder and I would support it. Even now, shooting his 20-gauge over/under, Rick’s shoulder was starting to smart after two hunts – forcing him to borrow an over-the-shirt recoil pad from Mr. Sala. By comparison, my shoulder was in great shape – pain-free – without any supplemental recoil gear. But the slight back-and-forth movement from the Kick-Off started to break down the skin on my cheek as I approached the 1,000-round mark of hot-barrel shooting during that morning session. The realization was that the Kick-Off system would be enjoyable for everyday shooters who might go through, at most, 10 boxes of 12-gauge shells in a single day.

A field lunch of grilled meats was served at the Sierra Brava Lodge.

Just as a footnote, the A400 Xplor Unico Light hardly jammed. There were about four instances of where a shell wouldn’t cycle during my hunt at the Sierra Brava Lodge using local CAZA ammunition.

For lunch, we were driven to a grove were the meal was served under a tent. A long table was set quite lavishly. After the assorted grilled meats and sides, time was allocated for a siesta in one of the cots under a tree or a hammock. At one point, the conversation turned to the A400 Xplor Unico Light. The guys from Texas and Arkansas really like it and I invited them to give it a try.

The Sierra Brava Lodge likes to move hunters to another location for the second hunt of the day. Rick and I were assigned a blind across a stretch of scrub and mesquite from the Texas contingent. We could hear them shooting and occasionally one of them would amble over to our blind for a few rounds with the A400 Xplor Unico Light. The gun was a big hit with them as, by that point, they appreciated a lighter, softer shooting shotgun than the ones they had been firing for the past day and a half.

A couple of guys from the Texas hunting party enjoy the hammocks hung near the lunch tent.

Day one of hunting ended with a tally of 1,019 doves using 60 boxes of shells for an accuracy rate of 68%.

Back at the lodge, a young woman gave us hot towels as we stepped off the van. Cocktails and appetizers awaited us at the outdoor bar around the lake-front fire pit. Then we cleaned up for a wonderful steak dinner with wine. After dessert, Mr. Sala handed out distinctive Sierra Brava Hats for hunters who downed at least 1,000 birds that day. Some of us wrapped up the day with a massage.

The second day of hunting began with skies that threatened rain. After breakfast, Rick and I were taken to a blind that seemed almost magical. Beneath a tree, we faced a long corridor of vegetation that ended in our immediate area near a stream and fenced-in grazing cattle. Low, ominous clouds cast a metallic green light across the landscape. Looking straight ahead, incoming birds were endless – waves of them evocative of black-and-white World War II documentaries that filmed squadrons of bombers in wide formation across enemy lines.

I started with the Beretta SV10 Prevail over/under. The shotgun, equipped with Beretta factory chokes and 32-inch barrels, shouldered smoothly – a more sumptuous shooting experience than the A400 Xplor Unico Light. Once again, as the morning hunt approached the lunch break, the cheek abrasion returned from the Kick-Off system, although my shoulder felt fine.

The friendly contest between Rick and I heated up as the bird boys instigated the competition for “numero uno.” From the four of us rose cries of “uno, doble” resounded with each bird taken. And after the over/unders were reloaded it would continue to “triple, cuatro” as we laughed and ribbed each other, our gringo Spanish running out at five or more consecutive kills. The birds tumbled or nose-dived to the ground all morning, some of the fast incomers landing in the blind with a meaty plop – the hot barrels capable of blistering your fingers if you accidentally touched them. Nothing stopped us. We shot unremitting like fiends until lunch.

Rick Cundiff in a brush blind under threatening skies.

For the afternoon hunt, Mr. Sala complied with our request to stay at the morning blind rather than switch to another place. By the time we returned, a warm drizzle infused the shooting with even greater exhilaration. Lightning streaked in the distance. Finally, the walkie-talkies crackled with instructions to the bird boys that we needed to come in from the impending storm. The bird boys decided to wait it out there while we climbed on the van – listening to more hilarious stories from the Texans.

Our luck held, though, as the storm cleared before reaching the lodge. The van turned around and soon we rejoined the bird boys. The day ended with 1,005 dead birds from 56 boxes of shells. I celebrated with a few scotches and a Cuban cigar at the fire pit. That night over dinner I was awarded my second Sierra Brava Lodge hat for 1,000 birds.

After a day of dove hunting, we enjoyed cocktails, appetizers and cigars at the fire pit on the lake at the Sierra Brava Lodge.

Veterans of Argentina dove hunting may scoff at celebrating 1,000 birds in a single day – given that 2,000 and 5,000 are within reach. In fact, a few hunters at the Sierra Brava Lodge, including Rick, racked up that many birds and more.

Did my 12-gauge experiment prove successful? The jury was still out until we visited the second lodge of our trip, Estancia Los Chañares, the next day. Beretta’s Kick-Off certainly prevented any shoulder injuries – at the expense of my cheek. I was eager to try Beretta’s 12-gauge A400 Xplor Unico Light without Kick-Off for my next Córdoba hunting trip. But I was getting ahead of myself.

Click here for Part III of the Dove Hunting in Argentina Beretta Style series, wherein Rick Cundiff and Irwin Greenstein take on the doves at Estancia Los Chañares.

Outdoor Hub, The Outdoor Information Engine - Dove Hunting in Argentina Beretta Style – Part II: The Sierra Brava Lodge