 In early November the emails and phone calls increase in anticipation of the Seis Gallos annual pheasant-hunting event. Finally the group arrived at Gasper Farms near Osborn, Kan., and preparations are begun for dinner. As the evening goes on greetings are exchanged among old friends that only get to see each other once a year, yet by the obvious comfort it would seem they see each other on daily. Finally, all have arrived and it is time to sit down for what has become as much a part of the experience as the hunt itself, dinner. Chicken fried venison, baked taters and salad. What could be better?
The next morning, after a fat-filled breakfast and more stories, the group begins moving. It is 10 AM. The four wheelers are housed in southern climates so they are a little hesitant to start in the 15-degree temperatures of north central Kansas. Whit Gentry gets his to start but mine has to be taken inside the machine shop to warm up before it will start. The blockers head out to the west to block the first strip, a fencerow that heads west from the old farmhouse for about half a mile. The other three plus John Gasper, now an honorary member, and Buddy the 4 -year-old Brittany, start the slow methodical walk down the strip. Almost immediately, I hear two shots, then another, as the walkers approach two birds fly out to my right Bill Blount kills the first. Wait, that bird is different. It is a Black Manchurian Pheasant, a surprise that has been planted by John, owner of Gasper Farms. What a treat! 
Now the group turns to the north and once again the blockers head out on four wheelers. This long walk does prove to be somewhat productive and Gentry kills another “Black Bird”. We left the heavy cover for the cut Milo. After several long walks, we have picked up several more nice flushes, largely due to the excellent work of Buddy. It is time to head back for lunch, but not before we walk back through the thick cover one more time. We have only walked a few yards when I hear the first explosion from under my feet, instinctively; I shoulder my .410 and pull the trigger, one bird down. We take only a few more steps when that unsettling explosion happens again with the same result. Only this time two birds rise. As we continue towards the farmhouse several more birds rise and fall. One last piece to check with Buddy, and it is a honey hole, five roosters rise, most fall. I am done with six birds.
 We head to the north east part of the farm. The birds are numerous and Buddy stumbles into a covey of quail on the edge of a Milo field. David Sams works on them and comes up with. The hunt continues until sunset. We finish Friday with 27 pheasants. What a hunt!
Now back at the farmhouse for refreshments and harassment about each others shooting skills.
It is nearing the time of the arrival of our special guest Cmdr. Eric Shirey, USN. He now has a desk job after spending time in the war flying helicopters.
During the BS session, we decide that the Commander needs a 21-gun salute. So, we figure out how many shots each of us will need to account for 21 reports. When the lights from Cmdr. Shirey’s car are seen, we all quickly grab our firearms and the specified number of shells, and head out to line the driveway. As he enters the driveway the reports begin, and Shirey is all smiles.
We wake up Saturday morning to freezing drizzle. The trucks are covered with ice but the ground is in pretty good shape. We are all moving a bit slow and the coffee is flowing once again. This morning Bill is making omelets for breakfast. About 10 AM we decide that it is time to cowboy up and face the weather.
 We repeat the previous days patches and pick up a few birds. Then the fog settles in and you can hear the gunshots as the sound moves across the prairie and echoes back from the hills to our south. Just as suddenly as the fog settled the south wind starts and blows it out. The temperature rises rapidly into the 50’s – boy is it hot! The wind also rapidly increases until it is blowing about 30 mph and gusting to 50. With the wind, the birds hold tight for the remainder of the afternoon. A lot of the standing Milo gets blown over. We call it a day a bit early with 36 birds from 8 hunters, not bad given the conditions!
Some of the boys head out to the cleaning house to dress the birds. Whit and I start on dinner while Bill takes a shower. When he gets out of the shower, we tell him he can either go to town for more peanut oil or clean birds. Guess what Bill chose to do? Yep, he went to town. Whit and I continue to prepare the wild turkey breasts. As everyone gathers for dinner the refreshments and bull begin to flow. Before retiring for the night I prepare the San Miguel beans that will be a vital part of the next night’s traditional fajita dinner.
I wake up early on Sunday morning. The morning’s fare will be pancakes with Karo syrup – I forgot the real stuff. Boy was that a mistake that I will never live down!
 We head out once again about 10 AM. This morning the birds are in the thick cover. We start by walking a stand of cedars. A few birds get nervous and flush early in walk, and at least 10 roosters bust out in the last 20 yards of the push, we kill 9 of them. We move to the thick patch in the middle of the farm and walk through it from south to north, into a 20 mph wind. We have several birds flush and we let very few escape. Bruce who is blocking tells us that he saw at least 12 roosters cross into the north end of the cover. As we turn to the west, I am on the outside to the north of the cover. Buddy locks up tight, a beautiful left to right flush. I mount the .410 and swing instinctively, and the bird is on the ground. I quickly cross the fence to pick it up and return to the line of hunters. Not two minutes later Buddy locks up again, this time two roosters flush left to right. I swing on the first and it falls, instinctively I move to the second bird and squeeze the trigger and the bird keeps flying. Bummer! I missed the only chance for a double! We do not however, locate the 12 birds Bruce had seen.
We make the turn and head back to the south. With in the first 50 yards 9-roosters bust up like covey of quail. They are out of my range and the others can’t figure out which bird to shoot at which results in misses all of the way around. All of the birds sit back down in the thick cover between us and Bruce and Bill, the blockers. We continue to walk south and Buddy gets very serious about his job, he is birdie! Over the next 200 or yards we flush and kill 9 birds. When we finish the southbound walk the seven of us have 35 birds. So, now we move to a Milo patch on the north end of the thick cover. We make one walk through and kill 2 more birds. The final bird is killed by Bruce. I have not seen anything like it! He shot off the tail feathers and legs at the knees, a second shot and the bird was dead. The group pats each other on the back and high fives and we are all happy with our hunt.
To contact John Gasper for a hunt call 785-346-2697
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