I went pheasant hunting with my father-in-law Phil on this cool, damp morning in November. We hiked into the fields around 7:15am and spent two hours walking the hedge rows and tree lines among the various fields. About an hour in we were working the woods along one of the fields in the hopes that the birds had been pushed out of the fields, and we were right. I spotted this pheasant in among the trees, and he took off like a bat out of hell. One trigger pull later and I had my very first pheasant stuffed in the back bird pocket of my Cabela's hunting jacket. I brought him home, dressed him, and cooked him up for lunch along with his heart and liver. It was a great first pheasant hunt, and I hope to get out soon with a few weekends left in the season.