CenCal dove hunts keep opener tradition alive and well for WON writer

September 12, 2024

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THE BEGINNING – The author (L), Rito and Jose (R) at the end of a successful opener. This was the last hunt before we started bringing the kids. These two will be my friends forever. TIM E. HOVEY

By Tim E. Hovey

BAKERSFIELD— The tradition of hunting the dove opener for me and my hunting group started almost 20 years ago. At that time, it was just the three of us, Jose, Rito and me, and all we focused on was bagging a limit and having a good time. I don’t think any of us were prepared on how important those early September hunts would become in molding our friendship and creating memories for our kids.

In 2007, we started bringing our kids along. They were too young to hunt, but they enjoyed helping us find downed birds and in the blink of an eye, they became part of the tradition. A few years later, using youth shotguns, they started hunting with us, and we never looked back. Now when the three of us reminisce, the early stories almost always include our kids.

FAMILY TRADITION – Alyssa has been a member of the dove hunting clan since 2007. She doesn’t get out as often as she likes, but when she does, it’s a special time. TIM E. HOVEY PHOTO

As our kids got older and developed friendships, we invited the friends and their fathers to hunt with us. For the most part, those hunts were one-offs, but some adults stayed and continued to be part of our opening day hunt. It didn’t matter if it was your first year or your fifth with us, if we included you, you meant something to us.

BORN A HUNTER – Hunting since the age of seven, my daughter Alyssa gets out whenever she can, as time permits. She will always be my top hunting partner. TIM E. HOVEY PHOTO

This year we hunted in different areas. I hunted with my wife on the edge of a cornfield. Jose, with his son, Adrian, a recent college graduate, hunted near his new ranch in Central California. Rito, along with his friend Fernando and son Kenneth, hunted a tried-and-true almond orchard near one of our early dove spots. Finally, my friend John, who moved to Texas a few years earlier, hunted a lease near his place in the Lone Star State. It was time to hunt.

As the day unfolded, texts started flying. Updates on bird numbers and the strength of the flight kept us all updated and connected. Occasionally, I’d miss a few birds as I checked out a photo sent by the boys. Whenever that happened, and it happened often enough, I’d just smile and be thankful for the friends I have. And even though we couldn’t all be together, like the old days, we will always find a way to keep the tradition alive. I will always be thankful for that.