Issue link: http://www.e-digitaleditions.com/i/801177
180 • S P O R T I N G C L A S S I C S lead techniques. When the horn blew I unloaded and continued around the course. What's most interesting at the preserve is the exquisite course design that takes advantage of the property's natural terrain. Whereas coastal topography is flat, flatter, and flattest, this southwestern sliver of Rhode Island features elevations of nearly 1,000 feet. To shooters, that means some pegs are higher up and closer to the birds' flight paths, while other pegs provide a true, high-driven presentation. Add to it a surrounding treeline and prevailing winds that contribute to consistent presentations with high-quality shooting at the various stations. The shooting butts are made of stacked logs that came from trees harvested on the property. The timber wasn't cut for that purpose, though. Open fields were needed for walk-up shoots planted to Blackwell switchgrass, broomstraw, and millet. The birds are a mixed bag, with released pheasants and Hungarian and chukar partridge being the norm. For my upland hunt the day following the Continental shoot, I brought my own setters though the club has a kennel full of pointers, feathers hanging in the morning dampness. Again and again birds appeared from the thick air like a magician's rabbit from a hat. The rhythm was steady, equal, and perfect. The shoot was unlike others where a dominant wind forces birds toward only a handful of hot stations. But on this day the birds streamed evenly around the course. It came as no surprise that I thought of the ever-addictive, flooded-timber hunting for woodies and teal at the preserve. This was the upland version of that. Along the coast, the wind picks up when the tide turns, and that's exactly what happened when the fog lifted and the sun came out. Who knew we were surrounded by a stunningly gorgeous, late-October day? The sugar maples were in full display, their vibrant red and rich orange colors contrasting perfectly with the pine trees' green needles. The birds responded, and the high pressure lifted them up until they were high in the sky. I missed more than my share until I shifted from the morning's aggressive snap- shooting and relaxed into the more gentlemanly swing-through and sustained- A coastal fog rolled in suddenly, and the wind lay down like a tired bird dog on a porch. I was glad this Continental shoot was at Rhode Island's Preserve at Boulder Hills, for in this kind of weather the shoots are lights-out perfect. The horn blew, and I waited in anticipation in the stacked-timber shooting butt. In this weather the treetops higher up on the hill were barely visible. In many driven shoots high birds hit a thin air seam just above the haze and sail away undetected by shooters and, therefore, unscathed. But here the birds drop low, partly because of the elevation changes. Their destination is either the hardwoods that surround the course or the grass and cropfields below. They must pass by the ring of gunners in order to get there. I heard a cackle, then another, but I saw nothing. Then, almost magically, a cock pheasant appeared from the haze. He flew to my right, and I had no time for sustained lead or for swing-through techniques. Instead, mine was a quick snap-shot that folded up the bird, leaving behind a puff of WinGShootinG At the PreSerVe By Tom Keer