The Song of SouthWind

From our September/October 2025 Issue

Longleaf pines and hard-packed red-clay roads come standard in the South Georgia region that SouthWind Plantation calls home. Driving from Thomasville, Georgia, I headed east on Highway 84, passing harvested cotton fields and acres of pecan orchards. I love this part of the country, and even though there was a late-winter/early-spring chill in the air, I rolled down the windows and let the cool rushing scent of farmland and timber sift through the car. Having done my fair share of wingshooting, I was eager to see this place I had only read about, curious as to whether it would live up to the hype.

Arriving in Attapulgus, it would be hard to miss the turnoff from Martha Berry Highway onto Bower Station Road and the entrance to SouthWind. The verdant rolling acreage at the front of the property provides the perfect backdrop to the plantation’s welcoming signage, while a large American flag stands sentinel.

When I reached the lodge, I was met by Carla Smith, a petite firecracker of a woman who, together with her husband Tim, owns the property. Tim was off doing what Tim does all day, every day: going “90 to nothing” attending to clients, checking in with the kennel, catching up with the guides and assessing every aspect of the nearly 7,000-acre property. Carla assured me there’d be plenty of time to get acquainted with Tim and gave me the wink of a woman who has long been by her partner’s side and knows his habits.

Carla gave me a tour of the main lodge as Operations Manager Stacy Strickland walked up and introduced himself. The three of us then loaded into a SouthWind vehicle to tour the property where I’d be shooting for the next couple of days. Even though Tim was not with us, he was very much present as Carla and Stacy took turns talking about Tim’s vision for the plantation and how it had been executed since he’d acquired the property in the late 1990s. What started as a place to take insurance business clients for premium hunting and fishing has evolved into a passion that still drives him. For the first six years the plantation remained a private retreat—a sanctuary where Tim could refine his vision. In 2000 he opened its doors to the public, introducing the Main Lodge as the cornerstone of guest accommodations. By 2005 SouthWind’s commitment to excellence had been recognized with a prestigious Orvis Endorsement, distinguishing it as one of only 24 such wingshooting facilities in the nation at the time.

I arrived at the perfect time for a tour, as many incoming guests had not yet checked in and I was able to get a look at quite a number of lodging setups—whole cabins, lakeside homes and the coveted owner’s lodge—all of which had been decorated by Carla. Each was teeming with taxidermied specimens from hunts across the globe paired with well-appointed and comfortable furnishings. With no small amount of pride, Carla shared that I’d be staying in “Carla’s Cottage,” a towering round building on a hill with windows on all sides affording views of broomsedge fields in back and one of the property’s well-stocked bass ponds in front.

Continuing the tour, we stopped at the kennels. Stacy shared that the plantation was housing about 300 dogs, including pointers, English setters, Irish setters, German shorthaired pointers, Brittanys, Vizslas and English cocker spaniels. There is a dedicated puppy kennel for breeding, and the staff trains dogs from throughout the US. At SouthWind you can buy a pointer, have it trained and then return to hunt with it—a true soup-to-nuts process.

We made our way back to the main property and lodge, knowing Tim was there and that cocktail hour was about to begin. Tim was easy to find on the back deck, which overlooks another of the stocked ponds. He was holding court with guests, many of whom I learned were return visitors. As I sidled in with my tumbler of bourbon and grabbed a passed hors d’oeuvre, I listened to the stories of hunts past. It was hard to determine who loved the place more—Tim or the guests.

During a quieter moment, I asked Tim what makes guests return year after year. He broke into a wide grin and said, “We like to think we’re the Ritz-Carlton of the sporting world.”

Some of the other gentlemen laughed and nodded in agreement. One replied, “He’s not wrong.” Without exception, they all talked about the specific SouthWind lodges they reserve each year and how the only arguments are over which meal is better (homestyle breakfasts or the fine dinners with wine pairings) and who is going to shoot more quail.

When it came time to move inside for dinner, I joined a couple of other guests and Tim and Carla in their private dining room. The service was well-practiced and gracious, as salad plates were removed and prime-rib-laden dinner plates arrived. I listened to Tim describe how SouthWind had come to be and could tell it was a story he told often. He talked about the initial parcel of land that is the heart of SouthWind and how he had added property to offer guests more robust wingshooting experiences. He mentioned his Upland Guide Program, which is an Orvis-endorsed “school” where hunters wishing to turn their passion for the outdoors into a career train alongside experienced guides, dog handlers and instructors—with graduates receiving a SouthWind - and Orvis-endorsed diploma as well as a referral from SouthWind and access to the Orvis Guide Placement Program. He also spoke with pride of the summer camp that SouthWind offers boys aged 11 to 15.

By the time dessert arrived, my jeans were starting to feel tight, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the coziness awaiting me at Carla’s Cottage. I also knew that I was scheduled for an early morning duck hunt and that there would be other nights for stories. I excused myself and turned in early.

It was still dark the next morning when I pulled on my hunting gear and said a silent prayer of thanks for the close proximity of my duck blind, which has afforded me a little more sleep. Grabbing my 20-gauge, I met my guide and his small pack of retrievers. The dogs heard the same quacks in the distance that I did, and they were practically vibrating with excitement. I learned that I’d be sharing the flooded timber with a father-and-son team in the next blind. The young man seemed as excited as the dogs, and it was a joy to see him bond with his dad in real time.

As the first rays of sun were painting the sky, mallards began heading our way. The shooting that followed was fast and furious. I recognized that this was flighted shooting, but the birds were hard-flying and challenging. The ducks kept coming, and the Labs never tired of doing what they were bred to do: delivering duck after duck to hand. I smiled, recalling what Tim had said about SouthWind being the Ritz-Carlton of the sporting world. This was as cushy a duck shoot as I might ever have. And I loved it.

The guide let out a whistle, indicating the shoot was over, and the father-and-son duo came over to relive the hunt. The pair’s bag outshone my solo efforts, but we all agreed that it had been a fine way to start the day. We pitied the friends back home, at work and in school and gave each other high-fives.

By now I was starving. How can I not still be full from dinner last night? I wondered as I cleaned up for the homestyle breakfast at the lodge. I needed a bigger plate for the biscuits and gravy, sausage, bacon, eggs and grits that lined the buffet. I also needed to pace myself, as I was headed out quail hunting in less than an hour—and there’d be a lot of walking . . . .

I met up with Moriah Murphy, one of SouthWind’s trusted team members, and we drove to a section of piney woods. Not only was the weather perfect, with the morning chill having worn off, but we had as our guide Stephen Bullard, Federal Ammunition’s Guide of the Year for the 2023—’24 season. We loaded into a specially outfitted Jeep and were ferried deep into the well-managed acreage. On board were six pointers and two flushing dogs, all yipping with excitement for the work ahead. As we made our way through the woods on foot, the rotating teams of dogs found covey after covey, and we enjoyed plenty of shooting until it was time to head back to the lodge. My shoulder had already been sore from the duck shoot earlier in the day, but I knew it was the kind of pain that meant I was having a great time.

After enjoying an al fresco lunch with some of the other guests, it was time to head back to the field—this time on horseback and in mule-drawn wagons. Tim and Carla led our afternoon shooting party, and it was a treat to hunt with them. Both are great shots, but they put so much time into making Southwind run like a top that I sensed they wished they had more afternoons where “work” meant crisscrossing the pine-studded hills and walking through weeping love grass and broomsedge. The couple rode in the wagon while Moriah and I took to horseback with our guide, Daniel Coston. Experience has taught me that I may get worn out, but I will never tire of riding a horse while quail hunting. It is my favorite way to spend time in this area.

That afternoon we found so many coveys that I lost track of how many times the English setters pointed and the cockers flushed. Let’s just say that there was a lot of getting off and on my horse. I had thought it might be hard to beat the morning hunts, but I was wrong . . . .

There is an unspoken fellowship that takes place in the piney woods—a communion of sorts when like-minded folks come together in a common purpose. Tim and Carla Smith have diligently and tirelessly worked to create a mecca for wingshooters with their beloved SouthWind Plantation. And it is easy to see why they enjoy so many returning guests. I plan to be one of them.

For more information on SouthWind Plantation, visit huntsouthwind.com.