There is a beautiful preserve in northern Oregon where I have enjoyed fantastic shooting on more than one occasion. Making it that way doesn't just happen; it is the result of a lot of hard work. Each spring the owner releases young ringneck pheasants by the thousands, and by the time the hunting season rolls around, the birds have forgotten their manners and act just like their country cousins that hatched and grew up in the wild.

The better outfits are willing and able to tailor a hunt to the capabilities of the individual hunter. The owner of one preserve I occasionally hunt knows I am an experienced hunter and a decent shot, so when I shoot birds there he always makes sure I am assigned to rolling hills covered with deep gullies and briar patches. The entire area is bordered by thick woods and swamps.

The shooting is so difficult, my ratio of shots taken to bobwhites in the bag is seldom better than when I shoot wild birds, which is exactly why I keep going back. On the other hand, that same fellow also has clients who are inexperienced or unable to walk very far, so he assigns them to relatively flat country with easy shooting over cultivated fields. Such versatility, combined with the amount of effort he puts into customer satisfaction, has kept him in business for many years.

Hunting preserves are like books; you can't judge them by their covers. The fact that an outfit has a clever name, operates out of a fancy lodge, serves gourmet meals and advertises in coffee table magazines does not mean the wingshooting it has available is of the same quality.

The facilities and amenities of some of the places I have hunted were fit for a king, but everything else was so bad I have no desire to ever return. On the other hand, some are as good as they appear to be. Some of the very best wingshooting I have ever experienced took place at one of the fanciest and most expensive places I have ever visited, and I'll go back in a flash as soon as I put aside enough money.

But you don't always have to spend a fortune simply because some preserves with less than upper-crust appearances offer excellent shooting. One such place I hunt uses an old barn for its "lodge," and the owner's ancient pickup truck may or may not get you back at the end of the day, but none of that matters. I go there as often as possible because the quail shooting and the dog work are absolutely superb

However, you can go too far in this direction because some places are as bad in other ways as they appear to be on the surface. Bottom line? There are excellent expensive preserves and there are excellent inexpensive preserves--and vice versa.

Since you know birds will be there, the preserve is an excellent place to take a youngster or other beginner on his or her first bird hunt. But don't make the mistake of making everything too easy. Shots should be easy enough to keep the shooter from becoming discouraged yet challenging enough to make him feel like he earned those birds carried proudly in the game pocket of his new hunting vest. The fledgling hunter should also get in plenty of walking between flushes so it will seem more like real hunting and less like shooting fish in a barrel.

Some preserves offer the options of furnishing a guide and his dog or hunting by yourself with your own dog. Knowing birds await your arrival makes the preserve a great place to keep an old bird dog in shape or to fine-tune a young one.

Quite a few hunters are attracted to preserves each year because some of the birds offered are not native to their states. Destinations from coast to coast offer the bobwhite quail, making it the most common. Quite a few also offer the ringneck pheasant and chukar partridge. I have shot Hungarian partridge from California to Maryland and at several points in between, but few preserve owners in the Deep South have yet to discover what an excellent game bird it is.