Bill Hamilton grinned at the question, his stock answer already halfway out of his mouth. “He’s an English setter,” Hamilton said, setting up the punch line as he prepared 9-year-old Woody for another enjoyable day afield. “He is the only kind of bird dog there is.”

Hamilton later allowed that he was joking, more or less. But on a day spent tromping through grouse and woodcock coverts, Woody certainly lived up to his owner’s assessment of the breed … and to the praise that others heap on Hamilton’s top dog when the guide isn’t within earshot.

“You may never hunt behind a better bird dog. Ever.” That’s what many members the Old Pat’s Society will tell you, when they’re sitting around, swapping tales. “Fantastic. Unbelievable. World class.”

Coming from the Old Pat’s Society, that’s high praise indeed. The group of well-traveled friends (along with several invited guests) returned to Forest City last week for a weeklong outing hosted by Art and Doris Wheaton and Lance and Georgie Wheaton of The Village Camps.

Birds were flushed and shot (or not). Yarns were spun. Friendships renewed. New memories made.

Just ask Chris Dolnack.

Dolnack, an invited guest who serves as senior vice president of the National Shooting Sports Foundation, spent a glorious Wednesday with Hamilton and his dogs and did exactly what he’d hoped to do.

He continued a tradition.

In the company of men who take their shooting sports (and their shotguns) seriously, Dolnack spent the day toting a gun that was special not because of its pedigree nor monetary value, but because of its origin.

“This was my grandfather’s meat gun, I think the only shotgun he owned,” the Suffield, Conn., man said during an afternoon break. “It’s a Savage Stevens Model 5100, 16-gauge.”

In a special place, working behind a dog some describe as legendary, it seemed to be the perfect occasion to run the old Savage through its paces.

“He carried it for 50 years and the gun was passed along to me,” Dolnack said. “I recently got it checked out by a competent gunsmith to make sure it was safe to use, and came up here to try to bag something with granddad’s gun so that I can pass it along to my kids or maybe my nephews.”

Though Dolnack isn’t an Old Pat – membership in the group is difficult to attain – he obviously shares the group’s sentiments.

The Old Pats are big on tradition, nostalgia, and preserving a way of life that isn’t as common as it once was.

“I think that’s what’s so great about our hunting heritage,” Dolnack said, after bagging three woodcock with his grandfather’s old gun. “One generation passing on woodsmanship and ethics and marksmanship and conservation ethic to the next generation.”

Dolnack may have shot a limit of woodcock, but if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have worried about it. Neither would any of the Pats.

Those days, member Art Wheaton says, are over.

“It’s not important to us whether we limit out, whether we kill a lot of birds,” Art Wheaton said. “If we make some good shots and kill a bird here or there, it’s frosting on the cake. We just have a good time.”

All around him on Wednesday night, as a bluegrass band played and steaks were served in Wheaton’s beautiful log home on East Grand Lake, similar sentiments were shared by men who sometimes worked together, often hunted together, and who have shared a lifelong passion for the outdoors.

“This is what the tradition of hunting and sports shooting and firearms ownership is all about, as far as I’m concerned,” said James Jay Baker. “These kinds of get-togethers have been going on since the first people arrived on these shores from wherever they were from, and probably before that. I’m sure the Indians had the same sort of camaraderie.”

Baker, an Old Pat’s member, knows the shooting sports well. He spent 20 years working for the National Rifle Association, and now works as a partner for the Federalist Group in Washington, D.C.

“[This reunion] is very special. You can see it’s not about killing as many birds as you can or anything like that,” Baker said. “It’s about the camaraderie, the shared tradition, the fellowship, just being in each others’ company, and swapping a few lies and maybe having an adult beverage or two.”

Tradition. Camaraderie. Again and again, those key concepts are discussed.

Pass it along to the next generation. Enjoy the time you have. Live. Laugh … and get laughed at.

It’s all the Old Pat’s way.

Guns brought many members of the society together, and guns still help cement that bond today.

Wheaton and many other members worked at Remington Arms. Several are also passionate about Parker shotguns, and their annual gun show is a key part of the Old Pat’s Society outing.

And though they love collecting Parkers, they realize that sharing the tradition of those fine American-made firearms is a responsibility they can’t ignore.

A few years back, Art Wheaton illustrated that when he gave away his favorite Parker, a gun he still calls “a grouse machine.”

At an Old Pat’s Society outing, he handed the gun to his son, Shane, during a special ceremony.

“It was important for me to give it to him while I was alive, so he could enjoy it,” Art Wheaton said. “It was more important for him to have my gun than it was for me to kill a lot more grouse.”

Charlie Herzog, a tireless retiree from Ste. Genevieve, Mo., is another Parker buff. During his stay in Forest City, Herzog – a member of the board of directors of the Parker Gun Collectors Association – was in the middle of all the festivities.

If there was dancing to be done, Herzog did it. If there were jokes to be told, Herzog told them. And if there were new friends to be made, Herzog was the one-man welcoming committee … even though he, too, was an invited guest, not an official Pat.

Spend time with him in a bird covert and he’d keep you laughing. Ask him about Parker shotguns and you’d get an enthusiastic earful.

“Artwork is not necessarily canvas and oil,” Herzog said. “It can be wood and steel. And a lot of these old firearms that folks like to hunt, collect, and appreciate are just like that: They’re works of art.”

Herzog was bitten by the Parker bug 13 or 14 years ago, he says. Since then, he has owned several. The hunt, he says, is more important than the acquisition. And the people make it all worthwhile.

“You have lots of history, lots of nostalgia, and lots of fun,” Herzog said. “And you meet some wonderful people. Those are the kinds of things that make it fun.”

Herzog, you quickly realize, is not a man who ever lacks for fun. Those around him end up chuckling, or smiling, or nodding their heads.

This camaraderie thing? Herzog’s a world-class practitioner of the craft.

All of which suits Art Wheaton perfectly.

Hunting and shooting have been a big part of Wheaton’s life. But the little things remain important … and spending time around the people who can appreciate those little things is more of a focus as the years pass.

“There is a beginning and an end, and we’re all closer to the end than we are to the beginning,” Art Wheaton said. “I’ve said it a dozen times to this crowd: We’ve got more grouse hunts behind us than we do in front of us.”

Wheaton paused and smiled. Steaks were on the grill. The strains of bluegrass music wafted onto the deck. Life was good.

“It’s important for us to pass this along to our kids,” he said, sharing the message of the day. “That’s what it’s all about.”

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.