Pheasant Hunting by Prado Dam

The sun was still low as Paul Sebourn and three companions, including his 12-year-old grandson, Brandon, fanned out into the field.

As three white and gold Brittany spaniels ran yelping in several directions, the hunters sauntered cautiously through the brush with shotguns slung over their shoulders. Suddenly one of the dogs stopped short, pointing like a frozen statue at a bush. A few seconds passed as the hunters cautiously brought their guns to the ready. Then, a big brown bird rose slowly up from the ground with its wings flapping frantically.

POP! POP! POP!

Without further comment, the animal plummeted like a stone, leaving a raft of colored feathers fluttering from the sky.

“I don’t do this just to shoot,” said Sebourn, a 73-year-old retired phone company employee from the Escondido area. “I do it to watch my dogs work and because I like to eat the birds. My wife has four different recipes; I must have 20 pheasants at home in the freezer right now.”

The scene did not take place in rural South Dakota where most of the country’s wild pheasants are hunted. Instead, Sebourn and other hunters from across Southern California have found an unlikely oasis in the fields behind the Prado Dam, within shouting distance of the Riverside Freeway.

The land is owned by the Orange County Water District, and for six days a week, the shooting here rarely stops.

‘It’s relaxation,” said Mike Raahauge, who leases the land from the water district for the Mike Raahauge’s Shooting Enterprise. “Nobody bothers you and the phone isn’t ringing. It’s a simple, nice outing and it’s close.”

Raahauge’s father founded the business in 1957 just south of Sacramento. In 1971, the company moved to its present location on 1,000 acres behind Prado Dam, which supplies water for most of Orange County.

Raahauge offers a variety of services including target practice, duck hunting and the training of hunting dogs. By far the most popular, he says, is pheasant hunting, which draws up to 100 hunters a day from October to March. “They shoot about 30,000 birds here each year,” says Raahauge, 55.

The birds--Chinese ring neck pheasants--are raised on the premises for that purpose. Purchased as day-old chicks from a dealer in Fresno, the birds are kept in large pens for about four months. Then, on the morning of a hunt, they are placed in small cages, loaded on the back of a truck and released into the fields.

For an annual fee of $1,200, members of Raahauge’s pheasant-hunting club--who number about 100--are entitled to go out as often as they like. Those who want a one-time experience may shoot up to three pheasants for $40 on a weekday or $45 on a weekend day.

Raahauge said that about 80% of the birds are killed by the hunters within a few hours of their release. The rest, he said, are eventually eaten by predators such as hawks or coyotes, with a small percentage surviving long enough to reproduce in the wild.

Some animal rights activists have criticized commercial pheasant hunting as inhumane and cruel. Advocates of the sport say that it maintains ecological balance by not affecting natural stock and helps preserve wilderness habitat by putting it to profitable use.

“It’s not just the killing,” said Jim Young, one of Sebourn’s companions. “It’s the total experience: the camaraderie and being outdoors.”