They're Here!

                                        Two weeks after we left North Dakota for another year we were on the road again with the Big Sky country of Montana as our destination. It was November 2007. We were on our way to spend 5 days hunting the Sunlight ranch as guests of my friends Stan and Sharon Johnson formerly of Wisconsin and now working at the ranch. Our plan was to stay across the border in Wyoming then drive up into Montana 30 or so miles each day to the ranch as there were no closer accommodations this time of year. I had heard Stan and Sharon's description of the terrain and surrounding area but nothing prepared us for the beauty and expanse of this country.

The view to the west at the end of the day.

 We hunted every day in the shadow of the Big Horn mountains. Usually up high a few miles from the valley in the foothills north east of the ranch. We quickly learned the birds sought refuge in the many ravines and sections of thorny brush seen throughout the hills.

The dark areas shown are the thorn bushes the birds often used for cover and food.
We focused on the smaller more narrow brush so the dog's could work the edges.
They would point into the brush or in the grass adjacent to it if they pinned the birds outside of it.

We arrived on a Sunday afternoon and Stan had had to make a run with the L.P. truck to another ranch property so Sharon greeted us and gave us a tour around the ranch showing us how to navigate in and out of the secure area's. Stan was to give us a more thorough orientation later but Sharon did a great job navigating the two track's and making sure we had a reference for where we were at and how to get back home! We met the ranch manager's, cook staff ,cowboy's and mechanic so everybody knew who's vehicle was out and about. Although a private deeded property this was within the Crow Indian Reservation so we had to have a reservation license not a Montana fish and game license. I had clarified this ahead of time with Fish and Game although many locals remarked that you had to have both. That was not the case as the state has no jurisdiction on the Reservations. We had sent for the licenses by mail and were taken care of by a lady named Roberta Prettypaint at the Reservation Headquarters.
                                        Excited to get our boots on the ground we rode back to the house with Sharon and had about two hours or so to explore. We decided to start at the south end of the ranch close to some barley and alfalfa fields. There was a corner of grass and cattails with a little water running through a ditch at the back side of an alfalfa field and a narrow valley running north and south. Tom took the top and I headed for the brush along the waterway below. We walked through the grass along the fence line as we descended into the bottom. Mick and Molly picked up scent immediately and tracked it ahead right along the fence. A couple Hen Pheasants flushed wild to the right. Great we were into birds! The dog's were still birdy as we moved into the really thick stuff when I lost sight of Mick. As I moved forward I knew he must be close and there he was on the edge of the little ditch with his head pointed down at the ground in front of him. He had a bird for sure. I walked in and kicked the brush. A Rooster battled it's way through the thick of it and rose high and to the right. I shot as he reached the peak of his trajectory and he fell across the waterway in more thick cover! The Setter's and I headed over and the game was on. The dog's worked around for a couple minutes appearing to be tracking then circled again. They knew this bird was here but it was moving. Then I lost sight of both dog's this time and headed back to where I had last seen them. There in the brush was Mick again with his head pointed down looking right at what I expected was this Rooster in the grass. I slowly walked up and stood and looked at the spot he was focused on. I reached down and pulled back the grass a bit and there sat the bird! Carefully I reached down and grabbed the bird by the neck and lifted him out of the brush as both dog's looked on obviously excited by the flapping wings as I dispatched the bird.
                                         I let the dog's settle and we headed down the waterway but first I wanted to hunt this side of the bank a little bit so we headed up a small hill to finish hunting this area of heavy grass and brush. Both dog's worked ahead and were tracking scent again almost immediately. We worked ahead to a fence line adjacent to the next pasture and both dog's locked up. I got about halfway to them when a group of birds took flight flying in all directions. I took aim at a Rooster heading back where we had just come from and dropped the bird hard in the same area basically. But this bird was dead. We headed back down and I was right. Walking right to it ahead of the dog's. I had heard Tom shoot thinking he may have had some of this group fly by him as well. I was optimistic as we continued having had our boots on the ground for less than an hour! The next few hundred yards were tough as I was basically walking through a swampy bottom but there were birds ahead as the dog's kept pointing and I'd walk ahead only to find they had moved out. But they kept working until we got another point around some bushes. I suspected we had moved these birds quite a ways and this is where they finally stopped. I was right as I approached with both Molly and Mick on point on either side of the brush then the birds exploded upward 4 Roosters and 2 Hen's. I took aim at the Rooster coming to my right and dropped him in the open cover. An easy recovery. Being at the end of where we wanted to go I headed up to meet Tom at the top. The hillside he had walked along was as thick as it gets but he did manage to put one Rooster in the bag. We continued back to the vehicle with the dog's working the alfalfa but didn't come across any more birds.
                                            Being unsure of exactly what the ranch had in store for us we were both feeling relieved. There were birds here! Before we headed back for the evening we wanted to check the hills behind the feedlot about a 3 mile drive up and down the hills on a two track Sharon had shown us. A half mile from the ridge we wanted to get to we crossed a ditch that scraped the trailer tongue and broke the tail light wires.We'd have to patch this and see the mechanic at the ranch tommorow. The grade to the ridge was steep but the Excursion was doing great traversing the bumpy trail. I had Tom stop about two hundred yards from the top as I wanted to check this area for Sharptail. It was brushy strips of cover in between the ravines and sloping hills. I let Beau and Molly out and started walking through the grass along these brushy areas. Beau with his head high as usual just came to a standstill. Molly was locked up just behind and to his right. I hadn't even gone a hundred yards from the truck! I got within 20 yards of them and a covey of Sharptail took flight! I shot and connected. Bird down. Then shot again and tipped a bird over breaking a wing . Molly ran ahead on the second bird and quickly located it and came strutting back with the birds wing fanned out across her face. The first bird Beau and I recovered. The sun was setting to the west as I walked back to the truck with the pup's and said to Tom 'They're Here".

They're here.! Both Sharptail and Pheasants! We'd also work
the flat area's of these high pastures for Sharptail as well. This was
fantastic cover to see the Setter's work at pinning down birds in the open.

                                              So that's how we were welcomed to Big Sky country. Another in a series of great experiences due to a connection among friends made along my journey with the Setter's. But that was just an opener for what we were to experience over the next several days.
                           

What's All The Fuss About ?

                                            Over all our 2006 week of Sharptail hunting went as usual but that's not to say there weren't moment's we would rather forget having totally missed birds despite the best efforts of our dog's getting us right on top of them! We had some warmer days again as well. This created very dry conditions making it difficult for the dog's to pick up scent after the morning dew burned off. But despite such adversity we found the birds everyday somewhere. The evenings we would gather with our German friends at that bar several miles away were again good times. Although none of us were a match for their drinking stamina. Myself being the first one to pass on a round and definitely no shots! But the whole town loved having fun and this was a very small place everyone seemed to just gather. It was something we looked forward to as part of every trip.
                                             The Prairie Pothole country held a fair population of Pheasants but not being a prime agriculture area just didn't have the grain farming to be a really prime area to hunt these birds. It was suited instead for Grouse and Duck hunting with all the water and hilly terrain. However the advantage we had is that we spent a lot of time during September walking the cover looking for Grouse so we also had a pretty good idea of what cover was holding Pheasants.
                                              There's two things that I would share that we had learned. The first being the value of scouting territory ahead of a hunt. This proved invaluable. We spent little time debating once we had learned where the cover was as to where we'd go on any given day. If you're hunting for just 7 days you want your boots on the ground as much as possible. Things could change dramatically from year to year with crop rotation so this was critical to our success. Second we were hunting in an area not considered prime habitat for the species we were hunting. This is important because we rarely had a problem running into other hunter's. The fact that there were less birds didn't bother us as we just hunted longer and harder to find the birds that were there. The hunter's that would travel and hunt in groups or gang's didn't hunt these type of area's instead they'd focus on the western area's of the state with much higher populations. These guys would walk area's in a line surrounding birds and just basically slaughter them then go to the bar and talk real loud about how they really shot the piss out of them today! And we had our limit by noon! They'd boast. These Gang hunting practices were disgusting to me. So hunting far away from these prime habitat area's worked best for us. Far from the "Shit Birds" as I nick named these hunters that didn't have a clue nor cared about "Fair Chase".
                                                The third week of October brought us back again for a week of mixed bag hunting as we would come across not only Pheasants but the Sharptail and of course the Hun's! While you would have multiple bird flushes with Pheasants they wouldn't stay in covey's like the Sharptail and Hun's. The thrill of a covey taking flight is what makes these birds such a thrill to hunt. Particularly the Hun's which when caught in the sunlight display a myriad of color's from browns to deep red's and shades of blue and grey. Gorgeous birds.

                                                We were hunting west 45 miles around wheat stubble divided every few hundred feet by tree rows. I was hunting with Mick on this particular run and we had walked one row with a few hen's keeping Mick busy in and out of the grass around the tree's trying to pin the birds down. We reached the end which butted up against more wheat stubble where he tracked them into the stubble back and forth eventually bumping them as he tried to get closer out of frustration. The sun was out and conditions were pretty dry. Walking these tree rows was wearing on me with it now being mid afternoon. Mick and I started walking to the next tree row when he picked up scent and tracked over to the next row. This was another cat and mouse game as the bird was moving ahead. Finally Mick froze around a small pile of brush on the edge of the row. I walked up and before I knew what was happening a Rooster had burst out taking a hard left and my quick shot was a miss. So Again we crossed the wheat stubble to walk another long tree row. This time Mick began pointing and creeping. He would stop with his head up looking forward into the wind. I would move ahead but nothing was there. This continued all the way down this row. Finally I was able to spot dusting bowls and tracks. It was a covey of Huns! They were here close but we hadn't been able to get them cornered. When we came to the end Mick was baffled. No more scent. So I decided to walk the center of the wheat stubble between the next row and see if we could pick them up again. About halfway through Mick got birdy tracking back and forth then froze out in the open wheat stubble. We had them finally! I was able to get fairly close and was positioned to the north which is the path I expected them to take. They took flight all at once as they do. A covey of a dozen or more screeching away. Beautiful sight. I fired connecting and then once again. A double. This made the day. Seeing Hun's was not common and to have shot a double for me was a rarity as well! Mick and I then recovered the birds. Both were in very good condition so I placed them in a plastic bag from my pouch with plans to have them mounted. We continued working the tree rows hoping we might locate the rest of the covey but never did. I was beat by the time we were on our final row with a strip of alfalfa on the north side. One of Mick's attributes is that he is very thorough and methodical. So if there's a bird running about he just loves the cat and mouse game that ensues. However being at the end of a long run my patience was not in keeping with Mick's so I lagged behind as he went back and forth up and down across this strip of alfalfa along the section line road. I definitely thought it was just a Hen Pheasant. I was ready to go so I called him. No Mick. Called again. Where had he gone now I thought. Dead tired I walked ahead down the dusty road. Then there he was along the fence line pointing into the short alfalfa. The guilt came over me as I saw him in a beautiful point. I thought man I've got to make this shot for him if it's a Rooster. I was able to walk right up to him and kicked the grass. A beautiful Rooster flew up and over the alfalfa. Then it fell to the ground with one shot from my Gold Label. Another mixed bag day! We both walked over to the bird with Mick standing over it looking at me with tail wagging. I'm sure if he could talk his words would have been something like" So what was all the fuss about anyway ?"

Mick my trusted friend and companion. His Motto " There Will Be No Bird Left  Behind!"

                                                  So that's what hunting with Mick is like. He never gives up. He has much more patience than I do which is a very good thing. And he'll never leave an area if he knows it still holds birds even after a multiple bird flush. Like many lesson's in life I would learn these things about Mick on more than one occasion. But I have come to love and trust this dog like any best friend. He has shown me  his wisdom time and again when working birds and given me countless reason's to never ever doubt him in the field.

My Lucky Rock

                                   The Setter's now veteran's of the road and the western plains were turning 4 year's old this year with Mick's birthday being the end of October. Beau's in late January and Molly's in June of 2007. So far I was meeting the objectives I had set for myself with the sport and the dog's. There was even progress in my shooting! The Setter's really appreciated that.
                                     September came around and it was time to once again make the trek to the Prairie Pothole country. Sharptail season had become our most anticipated season of the fall as Setter's and Sharptail hunting just seemed to go together. From the terrain they occupied to the covey's they'ed burst from with that signature chuckle. Big open spaces making it a pursuit most hunter's didn't bother with to any degree but instead were just happy to stumble across birds while Pheasant hunting or walking to and from the duck blind.  Except for opening weekend traffic we'd hardly see anyone else during the week. That was all fine with us.
                                      Opening morning came and I had chosen to start "West of The Old Windmill" again with Tom and Phil heading east 8 miles. We made our way to our spot on a clear crisp morning with a few clouds not many. But the important thing was little to no wind. The Sharptail always seemed to be spookier with wind why I don't know. I was just about ready to let the Setter's out when a truck came down the section line road. As it came closer I spotted the Minnesota license plates. Hunter's. I left the Setter's in the Jeep and went over to talk to these guys who had stopped and rolled down the window. After introductions they asked where I was going to hunt. This was about 1000 acres of varied cover as I've described before with a beautiful portion of natural prairie in the middle. I had hunted it every opening morning since I'd come out here and never run into anyone but these guys obviously knew about it as well. When I described that I was basically going to hunt the whole area they said "You're gonna what?" 'Go where?" I repeated. I've got 3 Setter's. I'm going to put them all on the ground head east loop back to the northwest hunt that prairie then go into the alfalfa to the west of it then cross the section line road and hunt to the south to that pasture fence then come back east to this  spot. "You mean all of this?." I said "Yeah " Well they talked a few seconds about some other spot and said good luck then headed off a little miffed obviously but after that morning I never saw them again. I learned a lesson that morning to get out early and claim your spot if you really wanted to make a tradition out of it. And so I did.

                                      This had held us up for a few minutes but for the Setter's seeing me ready to go hunting it was torture. They were ready to go! I let them out and was going to head east when after taking care of his business Beau with head raised into the air starts moving to the west in the prairie grass. About 40 yards in he strikes a pose taking in the scent on the gentle breeze. I head over and the other two dog's follow then freeze up as they see Beau assuming the position. I got halfway to him when a lone mature Sharptail takes flight to the west. I make a quick shot as the bird tumbles to the ground with all 3 dog's converging on it with Molly making the retrieve. Amazing how that bird had held through all that noise from vehicles and our voices as spooky as Sharptail can be. I just loved seeing Beau with that head held high just moving ever so gently to the point. It was a long shot but I'd learned to get used to that with these birds. We continued on going back to the East and resumed our original route but didn't get into birds until we were back to the prairie with the dog's working along the fence line headed north. This was a cat and mouse game with the birds flushing wild 150 yards ahead at the end of the field. There must have been at least 20 or more that headed to the west. Finally we came to the alfalfa on the other side of the prairie and I decided to work the short cover in gently rolling hills. The dog's were casting quite far out and had gone over a rise out of site. When I got to the top I saw them all on point spread out being focused on the same area of slightly taller alfalfa. They were 75 yards out and I didn't take but a couple more steps and another covey took flight to the south this time. Pretty picture though. We worked the rest of this large area with a couple more birds flushing wild then crossed the section line and worked some more alfalfa. The dog's fanned out and Mick picked up scent first working back and forth toward a rock pile in the field. It seemed like birds were moving in here as the other dog's were tracking as well. Mick finally came on point twenty yards off the edge of a soybean field. I walked right up to him going ever so slowly. Nothing. Then I walked ahead back and forth. Nothing. He was holding steady. I walked back towards him and a bird flushed between us. I shot and missed then more birds flushed at the edge of the soybean field behind me. I turned with one shell left and brought down a bird falling into the soybeans. Mick helped locate the bird and we took a moment as always taking in the beauty of this place and giving the Setter's a break.

Mick taking a break West of The Windmill

                                           We made our way back toward the Jeep and once we were on the section line road about a hundred yards away my eye's caught sight of a shiny stone in an unusual color of brown lying in the dirt. About the size of a nickel I bent down and picked it up as it just seemed to be calling me as my eyes came to focus on it. I examined it and thought probably just some common type of stone but it looked different so in my pocket it went as a symbol of good luck and a reminder of this special place. Year's later I still have it and carry it occasionally. Maybe to off set the times I loose my hat! Verrrry bad luck. Or to ward off the evil spirits that cause me to fall in badger holes or make me forget to reload my gun!
                                              So with one more bird to go for the day and a lucky rock in my pocket I decided to head east a few miles to hunt a section of pasture with rolling hills,lots of low cover, and water. This was pretty open cover and we covered quite a bit of ground quickly. The dog's picked up scent and began pointing and creeping. Testing the wind. Beau was in the lead again with that head in the air catching scent who knows how far ahead. Once again we had birds moving. Probably feeding as they walked along eating grasshopper's and feeding on the prairie flower's. I was behind Molly bout 30 yards watching Beau who was 30 to 40 yards ahead of her. He had just been stopping then testing the wind and finally remained on point head held high We were in kind of a bowl with a small ridge around us. Molly had also gone on point in front of me but seeing Beau ahead I thought she was pointing scent he had already walked by so I walked ahead of her right in Beau's direction. I got half way there when a large group of birds flushed wild out of my range. They just kept bursting from the cover. Unusual for early season to be bunched up like that but there were at least 30 birds. I turned around and Molly was still locked up tight in the same spot. I thought this was a false point and made no hurry to get there. Wrong. A single bird flushed and again due to my misreading the situation I wasn't in position. I felt really bad  Molly had done such a good job of holding that bird. I will never forget that moment. But with multiple dog's I sometimes have to make a choice as to which dog to follow. On this morning I had been wrong. However not 15 minutes later Molly after all the dog's had once again been working moving birds came on point at the base of a small rise around some rock's. A single bird flew high and back west. I shot this bird for her glad to have redeemed myself as she had done so well on this run. I let her hold the bird as we sat there for a few moments thinking about what had just happened as I ran my thumb and forefinger over our "lucky rock".
                                         I was pretty happy with my Ruger Gold Label and since it also was able to shoot steel I carried it as I hunted waterfowl production area's as well. We explored many of these area's on this trip as we continued working on new area's to hunt. I was having experiences with the Setter's I never dreamed I would have. To think that you could have so many of these moments if you wanted to had a profound effect on me. I remember talking to someone about my experiences one evening while having a drink after work. This guy said" Yeah I never hunted. I guess I'm just not into the Hobby thing". I didn't bother telling him that it wasn't just a passing fancy. It was a way of life for me. It was the way I wanted to paint the canvas of my life. A conscious decision to have the experiences that made me feel alive and inspired. And I wanted it to take up more and more of the picture.
                                 

A Dream Season

                                                     The summer of 2007 was spent in anticipation of the best season yet. I was getting used to shooting my Ruger Gold Label by practicing at the skeet range and sporting clays courses. The Setter's were enjoying life in the Love Creek valley working birds I'd set out for them and guarding the perimeter of the yard from any encroachments by pigeon's squirrels and chipmunks. They'd be kenneled outside while I was away at work unless the temperatures and humidity were to high then they'd be in the comfort of the climate controlled garage.
                                                      I had already decided upon another North Dakota trip for September for Sharptail  and the return in October for Pheasant and mixed bag hunting. January was now committed to visiting our friends in SW Kansas again for Quail, Pheasant and Prairie Chickens. Deer hunting I fit in while working my existing schedule since I hunted at home starting the third week of November.
                                                       Then one day while I was on the job talking with one of our long term employees and good friend Lori she had mentioned her parents had moved to Montana and were working on a ranch in southern Montana. Having been farmer's all their life Stan and Sharon had vacationed for many year's in western Montana around Yellowstone and decided to fulfill a life long dream and move west. Lori was excited describing the area as related by her parents. She had plans to visit before returning to school in the fall. Knowing the upland species that inhabit the Montana plains and agricultural areas my antennae went up! I started asking Lori questions and ended up giving her a list of species to ask the ranch manager about and of course asking her parents if it was possible to gain access to hunt. I knew Lori's parents as both she and her sister had worked for us for year's. Good people. I enjoyed them all and we were lucky to have the girls as employees and friends all those year's. Well Lori came back and the answer first of all to being able to gain access to hunt as guests of Stan and Sharon was....Yes! And the answer to the list of species was...Yes!  There are Pheasant's, Sharptail and Hun's present. This was exciting. I called Stan and Sharon and talked with them further. Stan was in charge of maintaining all the irrigation equipment so he had been seeing Pheasant's of course and Sharptail but not Hun's. However a neighbor Charlie Yellowhorse said that he had seem them before. The challenge Stan said was that this is a big place and not being a hunter himself couldn't be much help but that we were welcome to come out and try our luck. Big place as in 50,000 acres and then thousands more in leased land. This was primarily a cattle operation with a large feedlot a staff of farmer's,cowboy's,cooks and a mechanic. There was a manager for the cowboy staff and one for the agricultural side as well as a general manager. A bunkhouse,cookhouse,office, and commissary that was also once a butcher shop in year's past. There were several houses on the property utilized by the ranch staff. I would later learn all the history of the ranch and how it evolved to it's present day status but for now we had what looked like a great opportunity. When I asked if anyone else hunted out there the answer was not really there were a few people that had duck hunted along the river bottom but this was very private property and not a hunting destination for the general public.
                                                Well I shared the information with Tom and we both agreed It was worth checking out so we then looked at our schedules. The only way we could make it work due to December being filled with holiday obligations was to go the second week of November as we didn't want to get to far into the month afraid of the possibility of bad weather. So we confirmed with Stan and Sharon. We were going to Montana! And North Dakota. Twice! And Kansas! A Dream Season.

If The Gun Fits Buy It

                                              The rest of the winter for me was spent skiing with occasional trips to the hunt club with the Setter's. It was now springtime 2006. The Setter's and I had come a long way together and I was thoroughly enjoying our life. I had sent off a nice Thank You note to Dave and Shirley our new found Kansas friends. We looked forward to returning to their part of the country. Tom had gone south one more time to hunt Quail this time in Arizona and New Mexico with the guy he had bought his trailer from. His dog Annie unfortunately had been bitten by a rattlesnake which he later found out having her swollen leg examined at the U.W. Vet school. in Madison.
                                               I had learned Tom and his brother Mike were planning  a weekend trip south to Mississippi and Alabama to visit 3 different gun dealers specializing in side by side shotguns or double guns if you will. These guys had been around different kinds of guns all their lives and spoke in a language often foreign to me. But I had become curious about all the different guns Tom had shown me as we hunted and shot skeet and clays. Since I had been thinking about a new gun myself for several month's now I thought this might be a good opportunity to gain some more knowledge before I made a decision. So I asked to ride along. No problem. I was on the bus!
                                             As we took off besides each having a small over nite bag the back of the Excursion was filled with guns these guys were looking to sell or trade. And as we drove on the discussion centered around the specific guns they knew each dealer had they might be interested in having communicated by email or by phone ahead of time. Most of this jargon was Greek to me but I just sat back and listened asking an occasional question.
                                             We arrived at the first dealer's and after introductions in the front office and showroom area were led down a hallway to the "Gun Vault". This was an actual vault the walls of which were lined solid with guns almost all side by sides of every gauge and vintage. After a brief orientation to what was where we were left to sort through the inventory. Tom and Mike began searching for items of interest inspecting,shouldering and discussing condition and values.. I was just in awe and asked a few questions getting  often times a more detailed explanation than I could really comprehend. These guys obviously knew what they were doing. Tom just suggested I not worry about the prices of guns and just shoulder the guns to see what felt right then inspect the gun from there. This was great advice because it doesn't really matter what a gun costs but whether or not it fits and you can shoot it! Of course we all have a price range but more dollars spent won't always get you a better result. I of course started getting this lesson when I got educated about how to properly mount and shoot a gun. We spent the better part of the afternoon in the vault with these guys sorting and inspecting then asking questions. I had found one gun that when I shouldered it felt right immediately. I put it to my shoulder several times comparing it to other guns and it was different. It fit. I looked at the price. 1200.00. It was an old Webley and Scott. English made vintage gun. The Barrels were perfect. The receiver lettering was worn and the stock had the usual marks for a gun of it's age. Tom inspected it and agreed the price was fair and related what could be done with the receiver lettering etc...However I passed not having the confidence myself regarding vintage firearms. But these hours spent just getting the feel for more guns than I had ever put to my shoulder in my life was time well spent as I got a feel for what each type of gun was like. After these guys completed their business we were off to our next destination.
                                                 When we got to the next dealer in Mississippi a sign with a telephone number was in the window. Hoping we could get in we made the call and a while later the secure front door to the showroom opened. This was a small southern town with old store fronts and long narrow shops. This one was again filled with side by sides. But also taxidermy and related sporting collectibles from paintings,bronzes and Indian artifacts to a fancy collection of custom made pistols
                                                    So the process of going from rack to rack started again. Inspecting, mounting and shouldering guns then discussing values. I found a couple more guns that felt good to me and asked questions. They happened to be German made side by sides with beautiful heavy engraving. Gorgeous guns. Tom and Mike again made their decisions and arrangements to purchase or trade as I took it all in. I like to gather information before making a decision and consult experts then digest and pull the trigger so this was all good for me.
                                                   We drove on and got a hotel for the night. I was enjoying watching and listening to these brothers whom I had known all my life go back and forth on the debate about the virtues of one gun over another and the dealers valuation. I was just amazed frankly of the knowledge these guys both had.
                                                   Next stop was a rural location for a dealer in Alabama just outside of Selma. Spring time had already turned this area green so I enjoyed the ride through this rural area. Occasionally at a crossroads you'd see a roadside barbecue shack with outdoor seating and a roaster/smoker outside. We passed a nice sized house that had burned to the foundation with just the fireplace and chimney still standing then took the next lane to the right and we were there. It had been their house and they were now living temporarily in the original house on the property. Bob and his wife welcomed us into the living room with a couple large gun safes on the wall. Tom and Mike knew the guns they were interested in having called ahead so Bob went to work bringing them and related guns out to show. After decisions and terms were agreed on we were given a tour of the property. Bob had a skeet tower and a pigeon shooting range set up as well. Mike also got to test shoot a gun he was interested in. These people were very friendly, knowledgeable and accommodating.
                                                 As we hit the road I was glad I had invested the time to come along. After seeing hundreds of guns and digesting what I had seen and heard my decision was to purchase an American made gun. When asked about manufacturer's both Tom and Mike said Ruger was the most successful and reputable in their opinion. I wanted a gun made right here in the states so if I had an issue wouldn't have to deal with a third party. I wanted a direct link to a manufacturer. Hence my decision was to purchase one of the limited production run Ruger Gold Label side by sides.

Mick fall of 2006 with a nice Rooster shot with my Gold Label 

                                                  I love my "Gold Label" and it fits me well. I can also attest to the service of Ruger when I've dealt with them as first class and importantly seamless. However even today I remember how that Webley and Scott gun felt and how right it seemed and regret not having purchased it just for that reason. But I've since found other guns that do the same and remark about the same thing as I carry them in the field. I'm by no means an expert or a collector. Nor am I interested in owning a piece of firearm art if you will but just in having guns I can shoot well. And that I do.

On The Road Again

                                                 It was January of 2006 when Tom and I found ourselves headed south by southwest to the very corner of Kansas with hopes of finding birds. As we talked over the last couple of years the subject of Quail hunting had come up often. Having had Quail at the farm while training the Setter's sent our curiosity over the edge. I had done as much research as I could sending for maps and talking with the game biologists for the region. But this was a new area for me and no doubt would take some time to crack the code so to speak. The region also held Pheasants of course and Prairie chicken's which interested Tom. Being of the same family as Sharptail he was intrigued with their markings and the sacs on either side of their heads which would puff out during they're mating ritual. Our hopes were for a mixed bag hunt including the two species we hadn't hunted before.
                                              My friends and neighbor's Dan and Elsie Williams owned the farm to the west of me which included Love Creek as it ran through the valley. Dan ran the dairy operation while Elsie ran the household including keeping track of their 3 girls as well as working a full time job as a nutritionist. Elsie was originally from Kansas which I knew and when I was talking with them about the Setter's as I used their CRP fields for training I mentioned my plans to hunt Quail in Kansas. Elsie then told the story of her upbringing on a farm just outside of Garden City and related that she still owned a section of land there. Dan commented that he knew there were birds there as his Brother in law Jimmy and wife lived on the farmstead and his niece's husband Jake hunt's there. Well it didn't take long for Elsie to tell me I was welcome to stop there if I'd like and that she was sure Jake would show me around. So Dan made a couple phone calls and gave me Jake's number to make arrangements. When I talked with Jake he said sure there both Bobwhites as well as Scaled or Blue Quail there along with Pheasants. He also said his Dad worked for a large cattle operation and that he had access to hunt around the corners of their irrigated fields as well. I was a little surprised at his willingness to accommodate us but I was only just learning about Kansas hospitality!
                                              I had known that Garden City was in the same corner of the State we were headed to so as I looked at the route we'd head to Garden City first spend a day then continue on to the Cimarron National Grasslands at Elkhart Kansas. Which was about a two hour drive. This trip was shaping up nicely. Tom provided the vehicle and dog trailer and I handled all the arrangements. Fair enough.
                                              This was the first long trip my dog's had made in the trailer but they were fine as we stopped about every 4 hours or so for fuel and would look for a spot to let the dog's out. It felt good to be on the road again. The conversation at one point got us so involved in our story telling and laughing that we missed our exit by about 80 miles and had to back track somewhere west of Salinas. But we were having fun.
                                               We made it to Garden City by late evening and had checked in with Jake earlier to let him know we were on track. He stopped by the hotel that evening to meet us and made arrangements to meet at the farm the next morning.
                                                  The farm was about 8 miles north of town in irrigated farm country. We'd be hunting CRP which was pretty short and dry. Lots of weeds. The section was bordered by a dry creek bed on three sides thick with brush on the sides and wooded areas out in the middle here and there. We parked at the homestead where Jimmy and his wife lived and walked over to the east edge of the property to start our hunt. As we stood there we could actually hear Bobwhites calling to each other! The plan was to fan out and head south through this area. The dog's started casting and got birdy shortly thereafter. We quickly had Mick on point and when I walked in a Rooster took flight high going from left to right. Jake fired and missed and I brought down the bird with the next shot. We could hear the Bobwhites again and Tom had a point up ahead. A large covey flushed and we heard two shots! We soon learned of Tom's surprise as the covey burst forth and how he shot at them all! Hitting none! We huddled and let the dog's settle now having taken the edge off. We finally dialed in and started connecting on points of singles and doubles on Quail. As we turned to the west we also picked up a couple more Roosters. It was a clear blue Kansas morning. Beautiful. We came to the River bed again. And the brushy cover. We got several Bobwhites here and some great points but the birds would come rocketing out in all directions so we learned to focus on one at a time then worry about the rest after the first bird was down. It was now quite obvious to us why people were so passionate about hunting these small birds. It was some of the most exciting bird hunting I'd ever done and the dog's loved it. We had one more area of CRP to work as we headed back east to the buildings. The dog's worked some pheasants here in the dry grass  and Tom's dog Ida had a couple nice points on Rooster's along the edge which Tom put in the gamebag. My dog's had a nice point all together 3/4 of the way through that I let Jake have and that bird escaped! So we ended our hunt at the farm and were talking about lunch and the afternoon hunt when Jake said " Well I think my wife plans on having us for lunch back at the house". So we followed Jake back and were welcomed to his home where his wife Rebecca and her parents all were awaiting our arrival. They had prepared a beautiful lunch and graciously made us feel very welcome. This was a big deal for them to have company from Wisconsin and especially as friends of Dan and Elsie. Jimmy, Rebecca's father is Hawaiian and a great storyteller. We got quite a kick out of the two hour's we spent enjoying his company.
                                                         We spent the rest of the day hunting the corners of irrigated fields around the property Jake had made arrangements to hunt through his father. These were smaller areas so we'd take 1 or 2 dog's and picked up both Roosters and Quail in this grassy cover mixed with weeds. All things considered it was a great day and introduction to Kansas hospitality. These people had really gone out of their way to make us feel welcome and show us a good time. We said our goodbye's and headed back to the hotel to clean birds remarking at how refreshing it was to meet such nice people
                                                         The next day we hit the road early which was about 8 a.m.with the goal of having our boots on the ground around Elkhart before noon. Our first stop was at the Grasslands Headquarters where I wanted to talk with the Biologist about any recommendations for hunting. As we were talking Tom noted the mounted Prairie chicken in the lobby in a mating pose with the cheeks puffed out. We left with whatever information we could glean from this guy. This area covers 110,000 acres and spans about 17 miles north of Elkhart.
                                                        We grabbed our map and headed for some cover. There wasn't much grass we discovered. This was dry over pastured government land. Lots of Choia and Yucca type cactus. Sand lots of dark brown sand. After all this was the sight of the dust bowl of the thirties. The good soil or what there was was lost forever due to poor farming practices year's ago. Hence the government ownership.
We noticed right away the stark difference between the private land we had just hunted and the now barren expanse we were looking at.The objective for the day was to locate Quail Bobwhite being more in the dry river beds and the blue's being more in the open pasture areas. The Prairie Chickens being where they'd be. After a couple of hour's of walking with no results but some tracks in the sand Tom's dog pointed a Rooster in this cover to our surprise but that was it. The ranger had said the Blue Quail liked Choia Cactus so we drove around looking for spots with that and walked some more. A few area's had lot's of track's but that was it. We then headed for the river bottom to see if we could locate some Bobwhites. After a couple hour's here we had the same result. Zip. Nothing. Nada. It was a puzzle we were obviously struggling with. We spent the rest of the late afternoon scouting the area from end to end getting a feel for this deal. It was big and open. The birds were here but where?
                                                        We had driven a long ways to get here and after our second day were stumped and frustrated not having been able put this puzzle together. We checked in at the hotel and were feeding the dog's in the parking lot when a guy walked up and said Hello. He had seen our 6 dog trailer and my Setter's and being curious came over to chat with us. Turn's out "Joe" was from Manhattan New York and had hunted this area for several year's. He also had 3 English Setter's. We right away had a lot to talk about and he asked if we had plans for dinner as he was going to eat at the Mexican restaurant right next door and asked of we'd like to join him. So we did. Over dinner we learned Joe had traveled North America with his Setter's shooting every species of upland bird of which I believe there are 21. This whole experience was culminating in a book about his travels. It was a very interesting chance meeting as Joe had been places and done many of the things we hoped to do with our dog's including hunting this area. We left saying goodbye to Joe with his tips and instructions as to where to find birds. His statement was "I like to see people do well" as his rationale for sharing his knowledge. Also the Prairie Chicken in the lobby of the Cimarron office he had shot then had mounted and donated.
                                                          The next day we followed his advice and were into Quail on our first run around some windmills and gas pump structures. Structure being the operative word. The dog's were having an absolute ball stalking and pointing these Quail. We then switched to some gentle hills to try to locate some Prairie Chicken's. I had a point from Beau but as I got to the top of a rise he was to far out front and when I was in sight the birds took flight. I had a quick shot but missed as the birds coasted at least for a mile it seemed.
                                                          We regrouped and ran more of this cover around windmills picking up a few more Quail then decided to scout for awhile as we made plans for the next day. The dog's had done well with the exception of mine chasing Jackrabbits. I had to put the electronic collars on to get their attention as I didn't want them tiring out chasing those damn things but this was relatively new for them not seeing many before but they were plentiful here.
                                                          The next morning I had suggested we hunt an area several miles to the north on the edge of the grasslands due to it's remote location. On the way we passed a few walkin area's we thought looked promising as well. It was cold as hell this morning but being from Wisconsin we'd hunt in almost any weather. The good news nobody else was! Just before we got to this area we saw a half section of nice CRP we couldn't pass up. So we decided to split up and walk this as we were a little confused as how to get to the other spot as the map wasn't clear on how to enter it. We got into Roosters right away and had both shot birds. We were now walking back across having made a pass down one side. Tom was closest to the road and I saw a red Ford truck approaching slowing down so I yelled for Tom to stop this guy and ask how to get to the spot we wanted to go to. Well he did and I stood there watching for quite a while as Tom stood by the truck. After the truck moved on I walked over to ask Tom what the guy said. He laughed. Then told me when he walked over to the truck the guy just said let me see that gun and reached over and took Tom's Sterlingworth 12 gauge and looked it over and said " Those are nice gun's aren't they". The rest of the story was that we had met Dave Bozone the rancher that owned most of the land around us and lived right down the road. We were not at the time on his property and when Tom asked about the adjacent wheat stubble Dave said" Well my wife really likes watching the Quail that use that area as she feeds them in the backyard. She won't even let me hunt there but if you want to try go ahead but I'll tell you she's a pretty good shot with a 243 rifle boy's! We got direction's to the government land and were invited to stop by later and he'd show us where his property was. Little did we know exactly who we had just met.
                                                  After picking up a couple Rooster's here we headed down to the Government land which was a dry riverbed with pasture and brushy areas in between. We were into Bobwhites quickly as Mick slowly creeped ahead and pointed 100 feet into the run. A covey took flight straight away as I shot and missed. Surprised of course. We then worked the singles from this group and had a couple birds in short order. These birds would hold so it was fun to call each other in to take turns on points. What a spot this is we thought. It wasn't long before we had a point against a big cottonwood surrounded on one side with a pile of brush. We walked right in and took in the sight of all 5 dog's on point around this area. I kicked the brush and a few birds rocketed out with Tom taking one. Then I looked and the dog's re positioned at the same brush pile. I kick again and more birds rocketed out and over my head. I shot and took another bird with the rest escaping. How exciting was that! We moved through this area a which was a couple miles long with the dog's quickly dialing in on any brush piles or patches of thorn bushes. As we moved through the bottom with the dog's casting about Molly comes on point around an old burned out stump. I signal to Tom and he comes over to the side. I go in to flush and nothing. But Molly's still rock solid. I kick again and nothing. After looking puzzled and re positioning in the same spot with her head looking right at the stump I look at Tom like I don't know what's up. So I once again go in and went right up to the stump and kicked it hard! A bird just burst's into the air! Fly's right past me and I turn around and Tom and I have guns raised looking right at each other as the bird heads right at Tom! We just both are froze in that moment not able to shoot as the birds in the middle of us and Tom just kind of makes a batting gesture as it fly's past his head. We just watch it go and turn back and laugh! I can't imagine what Molly was thinking about us! We would have a couple more points with all 5 dog's.This was just incredible to see as we'd get to both walk in and shoot as the covey took flight. But we learned that in these very dry conditions we had to carefully mark birds as the dog's would sometimes struggle locating them.
                                               We saw a truck coming through the bottom land and  stopped to talk with a guy and his girlfriend for a couple minutes. They were deer hunting and when we said do you know who owns the rest of the land east he said" Yeah that's Bozone you don't want to get caught over there he can be pretty nasty". So we were ready to meet Mr Bozone as we headed up to the ranch house.
                                                 We were greeted at the door by Mr Bozone " Dave" and invited in to his office area where he introduced us to his wife Shirley as the crazy guys who were out hunting this morning. Our coldest day of the winter so far! We spent some time talking about who we were and where we were from then Dave questioned us about our dog's and where we'd hunted. Being a hunter himself he was interested in our story but Dave"s real passion was Bow hunting for Deer stalking them in the open cover. These were genuine Kansas natives. Dave had at one time spent some time in Wisconsin so he knew the area we were from. Before we left he had given us a map of his almost 10,000 contiguous acres and told us we were welcome back and he wouldn't mind hunting with us a little either. We made arrangements before leaving to meet Dave the next morning to hunt that other section of dry river bed we mentioned earlier.
                                                It was a little warmer the next morning with light snow. Big soft wet flakes falling in a continuous curtain of white. There was hardly any wind. We picked up Dave and talked with Shirley for a while also meeting the hired men. As Dave said the Cowboy was named Matt and the farmer was named Daniel. Nice guys. We would take two vehicles so I rode with Dave. He had explained to us that he doesn't let people hunt much of his property and not this section in particular as he bow hunts here and around the adjacent 4000 acres on this end of the ranch. He also is protective of the Quail. So we were grateful to have the opportunity and glad we had hit it off. Our being out in the extreme cold caught his attention and the fact that we asked first about hunting politely had made a difference for him. It was eerily quiet as we parked at the bottom after going through three different gates to get to where we would start. The plan was to hunt back to the west fence where the government land started a mile down. So we spread out with all 5 dog's on the ground which was so much fun as the Quail would hold so the dog's would all point together frequently and we could call each other over when we had points. That's why they call this a Gentleman's sport I guess. Mick was first to find birds as we walked quietly through this river bottom with brush piles and clumps of taller scrub trees. Beau and Molly honored behind and I let Dave take the first shot as I flushed. Dave took the bird to the right and I took a bird straight away. Well done. He was impressed with the dog work never having hunted with a pointing dog before. We continued on hearing Tom shooting to our left with his dog's Annie and Ida about a hundred yards away. It was just an incredible scene with those big flakes just floating down. We walked on with Beau coming to point along the north fence line. He had been working scent when he just froze with his nose aimed right at a small clump of grass his body bent in a half circle. I told Dave to take the shot as I knew the bird was right there!. It burst from the grass flying behind me and Dave swung and made the shot. A beautiful moment and great point. We no sooner recovered that bird when Molly and Mick were both locked up 50 feet away looking into some bushes. I called Tom over and the dog's just held there intense on point! I went in to flush again with Dave and Tom shooting. It was another covey but they came up in two waves as I kicked the grass. We all took a bird from that flush. Being almost at the end we turned and walked back on the other half finding another covey and Tom got into some singles as Dave and I waited for him hearing his shooting as he came to the end. His dog's were having a ball as well. I must say I've never again had moments like that in such a beautiful setting totally quiet no wind and those big flakes just floating to the ground. I think Dave was glad to have had the opportunity to hunt with the dog's as well. But he was now cold enough so we headed out but on the way back he pointed out the junk pile a mile from the ranch where some blue quail hung around and said we were welcome to hunt them as well. And so we did but not before thanking Dave and making arrangements to stop at the house again tommorow. By the way he said you guys are welcome to clean the birds back at the house if you want out by the shop. Just bring them up to the house and I'll clean em up for you and put them in the freezer till your ready to go. So the week went. We were humbled and grateful for the kindness.
                                                So again thanks to some great hospitality we had a successful trip getting on birds of all species. Dave and Shirley invited us into their home and we enjoyed getting to know these friendly and very kind people. We even got to hunt the other side of that fence the deer hunter cautioned us about crossing! It was a great trip just having met these folks. Jake and his Family, Joe and his Setter's from New York who I still remain in touch with today years later as well as our new friend's Dave and Shirley Bozone.
                                                 On our way back we recounted the friendship that was extended to us on that trip and talked about what a great example these people had set about just being "Good human beings" We would laugh that maybe it was time for us to reflect on ourselves but there was no doubt that these people had all made a positive and lasting impression on us.
                                   

Hey Boss! Over Here!

                                                    It was early December 2005. I had finished up the deer season shooting a couple deer for the freezer right out the front door at the farm basically. We had a great set up with a clover food plot at one end of the valley and a corn plot at the other. There was a spring on my neighbors property to the south and abundant wild apple tree's and plenty of oak tree's producing acorns every where. No surprise the deer herd had flourished in the southern part of the state. But during this time the Ruffed Grouse had become almost non existent in the driftless area of the state however in the northern area of Wisconsin it was on the upswing in the birds cycle. Since my mother lived up there I decided to take the Setter's up for a weekend visit and foray in the covert's of the north country.
                                                   As a kid hunting with my Dad we never got to far off the fire lanes out in the woods for fear of getting lost although the compass had been around for a couple hundred years by then I think but was not something we ever carried while hunting or trout fishing in this area. And I do remember getting lost a couple times. Thanks to my Grandmother Stella I was always looking over my shoulder as a kid in the woods being afraid there was a bear around every corner. You see she made great fun out of telling us scary stories from the time we were very little about the big papa bears that lurked out there in the bush. Then just before we'd leave to head out to the trout stream she'd always remind us to watch out for the papa bear's and laugh that deep throat-ed laugh she had. But truth be told we would on occasion see black bears while fishing which would trigger my Dad also not fond of bear's to say" Let's get the hell out of here!" Now I also had done some homework on hunting Ruffed Grouse and identifying cover trying to sharpen my skills. And yes I had a compass pinned to my vest as well as a cell phone even though GPS units had been around for a few years!
                                                    I chose some cover with what I thought was all the right stuff with aspen at the right age etc.. Then as an experiment I let all the pup's out for a walk in the north woods. Knowing I'd be in thick cover they all had bells. Mick being really from a classic Grouse dog lineage was more methodical in how he worked and I could see he was having fun. Molly on the other hand worked fast and covered ground quickly getting out of sight easily in a matter of seconds. Beau on the other hand being as tall as he is and very athletic was over the next hill before I even knew which direction he went. Right off the bat I heard Beau barking. What the hell now I thought. Well the problem was that being only used to hunting with me on the plains country he wasn't used to loosing sight of me and in cases where he had would always bark to signal he had lost me. A good system. I had to laugh. I'm out in this classic Grouse cover. Bells ringing and a dog barking! Hadn't seen any birds yet though! I wonder why? And oops don't trip over that log!
                                                  Well after that experiment I knew Mick was probably my best bet and maybe if I let Molly out with him they'd work good together. So I picked another spot along a ridge bordering a creek and swampy area I thought may hold either Grouse or Woodcock. Both dog's were working well but I didn't like them out of my sight. I like watching my dog's work and was spoiled by the open country hunting I'd been doing. And oops remember to watch out for that log again. Yeah and there goes your hat stuck on that branch! It's verrry bad luck to loose your hat! Where the hell are the dog's? I don't here those bells! Don't get me wrong I had really enjoyed hunting these birds in the Love Creek valley during the 80's in the wooded pasture's of the driftless area but in much more open cover. I was trying to understand the attraction of this north country hunting but wasn't quite getting it. Maybe that's why the local's just drove around in pick ups drinking beer and shooting from their vehicles. Anyway I don't here bells or dog's barking! They couldn't be far away so I just stood still and began looking through the underbrush trying to spot the dog's hoping they were on point. Nothing. I moved a few steps ahead and stood still again looking in all directions. Bingo! I sighted Mick pointing in the direction of a spruce tree with branches almost to the ground about 30 feet away. I couldn't see Molly but suspected she was honoring close by so any shot had to be well into the air to be safe. I contemplated for a moment a possible approach and shooting lane. This was going to be a crap shoot at best in this thick cover so I picked a line and moved ahead getting within 10 feet when a single Grouse drummed it's wings in that classic rhythm bursting from the cover of the spruce tree. I shouldered my gun looking up for the bird and caught a view as it crossed an opening in the tree's briefly. It was a beautiful picture as it arced across the open sky for just a brief moment. I then took what would be my only shot missing the bird but glad to have gotten the opportunity. To hear it's wings beat. See it's wing's extended and all it's color's in shades of brown and grey as it arced across the sky. And for the opportunity for the Setter's to have experienced the same in their own way.
                                                      We continued on for a few hundred more yards with one other flush which was wild and no shot but I had decided I was spoiled by the open cover  hunting of the plains although I was hunting with dog's bred as classic Grouse hunter's. I understand the magic of hunting this bird and it's allure. The smells and beauty of the north woods. But I as well as my dog's were now adapted to a very different sport and style of hunting. These dog's are much to beautiful not to be able to see them working I decided. So we headed back to the Jeep another experiment completed as we heard Beau barking as we got closer.

Just Let Me Out

                                     After a week of Sharptail hunting filled with many great moment shared by all of us we returned to our other lives once again. We were now getting into a rhythm traveling and hunting together with the exception of when it came to the days we wanted to use one vehicle. This meant multiple dog's and gear moved from one vehicle to the next and back again as the week progressed. Getting dog's in and out as well as gear every time we'd stop to do a run was cumbersome at best. At the end of the day the truck would be a mess. It didn't take Tom long to figure out a dog trailer with storage space and room for 6 dog's was the answer as he had picked up another dog as well. So on the way back to North Dakota the 3rd week of October for the Pheasant season we rendezvoused with a guy that had one for sale and Tom decided that upon inspection it was a go. Now we were set to travel in an organized manner! And travel we did.
                                    Most day's we'd run separately but on those day's we'd go any distance to save fuel we'd travel together. The trailer was a huge improvement on those days and I enjoyed the company as we made our way through the country. I was impressed with the eye Tom had developed for spotting good cover.  But even though we now had an area we knew pretty well the terrain could change with the cutting of hay from a field or harvesting of crops. This would all be considered as we drove around looking for suitable runs for all of us to do on our own. However our hunting styles varied in that I would let my dog's always hunt big so I liked open space and long runs whereas Tom and Phil kept their dog's closer sometimes hunting together around sloughs and tree rows. No problem it's just that I was always anxious to just get going. Gotta keep moving was my motto. Boots on the ground! I took it as a challenge then to find either Sharptail,Huns or Pheasants no matter how marginal the cover was. So after the deliberation went on for a while I'd just say "Let me out here !" Knowing regardless of the run The Setter's and I would find birds eventually. Besides I was just in love with watching these dog's work.
                                     I remember one such run that week in Shelle Butte Township. When asked where I was going to go I outlined a run with a pickup point two miles west. God knows how many actual miles I'd eventually walk as well as the dog's by the time I got there but the run included terrain all species would possibly use. I remember Tom saying then " Now where are you going?"
                                      We started out walking some pasture with sloughs running through the bottom and the Setter's started working what I believed were Pheasants as we worked our way west. I eventually had a couple points on hens as we kept working the bottom but no Roosters.The closest corn was a half mile away so I wasn't surprised but I hadn't made this particular walk before so we kept at it. At the point where the pasture started to rise to a large hill I had the dog's become birdy going up the hill. It wasn't long before Mick had gone rigid in the short grass looking up the hill. I moved ahead and a pair of sharptail took flight on the edge of shooting range but I took one bird. Great! We then regrouped and headed west again up and down the hill still in pasture that had been grazed pretty short but we walked along the ridge above the waterway. It was just fun to see the dog's work the big open cover. Always moving moving moving that's the name of this game! Knowing how Pheasant act and the notorious runners they are covering big areas like this is what I call "corralling". In a way it is like a round up I guess. This particular day I just wasn't quite prepared for the results.
                                        Another mile down and we crossed the road now going west by northwest headed for a hay field with a waterway and a small pothole a quarter mile ahead. Shortly after we crossed the road I had Molly on point in very short grass. I couldn't possibly see where a bird could be hiding here but she was serious. The other two dog's had stopped and were looking on with interest as I approached and a covey of Huns took flight. I was mesmerized by the surprise and watched a little to long before trying to focus on a bird and of course registered a total failure. A miss! Trust the nose I said to myself. You gotta be a believer always!
                                       Well we moved on and got into the hay field. The dog's were working nicely and picked up scent along the waterway and followed it out into the open again. This tracking expedition wound around back north again when Beau finally froze but in really sparse cover. Molly was close behind him and honoring but Mick being farther away started running towards the two of them instead of honoring. I tried to get him to whoa but he was hell bent on getting his nose in on this. Damn it! I knew especially if it was a Rooster in such light cover it probably wasn't going to sit still with a dog running right at it. I was hurrying as much as I could but Mick wasn't going to stop and continued right up to Molly about 6 feet behind Beau and the Rooster would take no more and bolted out of range. Disappointed there was nothing to be done but I did make Mick whoa and stand for a couple minutes before we continued. Great job by Molly and Beau we'd just have to find more birds!
                                         A couple hundred yards ahead we picked up scent again. This time along the waterway with all 3 dog's holding looking at a clump of cattails around a culvert. I moved in cautiously and a group of 4 Rooster's burst out of the cover. I quickly took my shot and brought down a bird dead in the grass ahead. The rest of the birds flew in the direction of the pothole but I couldn't see over the small rise ahead of us exactly where. We collected our first Rooster of the day and took our usual moment to settle the pup's. The waterway we had just come to headed to the pothole eventually so we continued on this track. Eventually we worked our way there with Mick picking up scent along the edge. A cat and mouse stalk ensued in and out of the cattails on the edge of the pothole. Mick for some reason gets really excited in this type of cover. Must be the Grouse dog in him.  Liking the close cover I mean. When we get to within 100 feet of the dry dam on the west end he freezes on the edge of the water in the cattails. I move ahead and a single Rooster rises straight away across the water! I fire and the bird falls 20 feet out into the water dead. It was a great job by Mick but I wasn't sure who was going into the water him or me? Tails were wagging all around as they all looked on at the edge of the water so I said fetch it up Mick and I was surprised what happened next. He kind of took a slight step forward then just moved into the water right for the bird grabbed it and proudly brought it back! I had the camera out of course as this was really fun to watch. I let him follow me up the bank a ways where we stopped and he laid down with the bird. He had redeemed himself!

Mick barely visible center behind the cattails with his first water retrieve.

                                         We took a few pictures and added our second Rooster to our mixed bag for the day not quite as mixed as it should be but we were having fun. This was getting to be a long run for everybody but I was glad we were around water so the dog's could cool off.Then no sooner did we get to the dry dam to our right when Molly got really interested in scent again that took her and Beau over the top of the bank. Mick was still giving the cattails one more going over but I followed Molly's lead and when I got to the top of the dike Molly was on point right on the slope edge with Beau right behind. I took one more step and again all hell broke loose! 4 Roosters bolted to the right at the same time. I missed again with my first shot but connected with the second on a really nice bird. Then with an empty gun I watched 3 more Roosters take flight ahead of us one at a time in quick succession. This was our limit on Roosters anyway but it was a nice moment.

Mick as he came out of the water showing off!

                                          By this time Mick had joined us on the other side of the pothole as we took our celebratory moment. It's interesting to note how many birds we had "corralled" on the walk down to this point.  You can't be sure we moved all of them in this way but knowing how fast and how far they will run having done this many times I can say I believe it was worth putting out a wide net and casting as we did over a large area especially with multiple dog's. Seeing all those Roosters wasn't a coincidence.

Molly getting in the photo. It's a team effort!

                                          We had kept moving at a pretty good pace the whole time but Tom and Phil had beat us to the pick up point a little ahead of time and called me to see where I was at. I gave my position and caught up with them a few hundred yards ahead. When I relayed my story they were surprised at the number of birds we had moved and the fact that we had seen Sharptail as well as Huns but again when you cover that much ground with multiple dog's something is bound to happen!
                                            There was one more experience I had made a note on in my journal about this trip. We had headed over to the neighboring town ten miles west to have dinner and a couple drinks. At this time of year the bar which was also a restaurant would be pretty busy with duck hunters as well as upland hunters with people from all over the country. We were enjoying ourselves talking with the people we knew when these two guys walked in decked out in fancy cowboy attire from head to toe. We were all curious about these guys as nobody else was dressed like this. Phil was especially interested in who these guys were and having a few beers couldn't help but crack jokes about what their story might be. So it was a mystery. These guys had the fancy boots, leather vest's,big hats with feathered bands and the big fancy belt buckles. Were they famous? Big time ranchers from Texas? Country Western star's? One guy even kinda looked like Conway Twitty. The suspense was to much for Phil so he finally said" I'm gonna just go ask those guys where they're from". After a couple minutes he comes back and say's" They're from Michigan!" They had bought 160 acres out here which is a drop in a bucket in this country and come out in the fall to hunt. We all had a good laugh about that as things are not always as they seem! Just playing cowboy I guess.

Older But Wiser

                                               The first week of September much anticipated all year finally came.The 2005 season held much promise for the Setter's and I as we once again made the trek west for the opening of the Sharptail season. We would be joining our friend's Tom and Phil along with their dog's for another week walking the hills and plains of the Prairie Pothole region.
                                                Anytime you hunt a new area let alone a species you haven't hunted before there's always a learning curve despite what you may have read or heard from someone. In the case of Sharptail hunting I had read book's and articles as well as any information I could glean from the Fish and Game website. I reviewed the species distribution maps and the harvest data from previous year's as well. Having spent time walking a lot of miles out here last season I had a pretty good idea of how to identify and locate the cover these birds used at different times of the year. Last September we had some very warm day's where we could only hunt till about 10 or 11a.m. due to the heat then again about an hour before sundown if we still hadn't gotten our birds for the day. We used the time in between to search for areas to hunt in coming days some of which held bird's and some didn't. It is possible to come into an area blind so to speak and find birds but in the case of Sharptail once the birds are moved a couple of times they'll simply relocate so it's not smart to keep hunting the same birds. That's why you've got to be prepared to cover a lot of ground in different area's.
                                                 We developed code names for certain spots that were known haunts for these birds such as " The Honey Hole" "The Old Windmill" "The Tree Rows" or " The Beer Drinker's" to name a few. Then you speak in term's of east of or west of such and such so we'd know where the event's of the day had taken place or where each other was planning on going. We found the local's had a whole different way of describing the countryside usually based on whose farm it was or used to be the people and names of which we weren't yet familiar with. So if we were talking about someplace with these people they'd look at us kind of funny and say" Oh you mean so and so's place". And so it would go.
                                                  Now I've done a lot of hunting but never covered as much ground as I did when I started hunting Sharptail. The bottom line is these bird's will be where they are. This is big country and you've got to find where they're at! The first thing I learned is that having proper socks and boots that fit well is critical. This is not a game to play with sore feet! I came prepared this year with some thick wool sock's and 3 pairs of boot's. One pair of rubber calf height for walking in wet grass if it rained. Two pair of leather boots so I could rotate them one pair being custom made to fit. Later on when using Garmin GPS Tracking Collar's on the Setter's I would find after a full day of hunting they would go around twenty miles with myself covering 8 to 10. So you can see why I made the investment in custom made boots! Then if we'd go up to the bar in the evening to have a cold beer with Willie and his wife I'd walk over through the alley to main Street in my house slipper's to give my feet a break as well!
                                                 Most of the wild game I soon discovered I had eaten in my life was over cooked. I remember the Pheasants and Ruffed Grouse my mother cooked as a kid that my Dad and I would bring home were always very dry. The thinking seemed to be that you had to cook the Bejesus out of anything wild just to be safe. It's ironic that just the opposite was actually true that being all the processed crap from the grocery store was what was killing us! Well last year our friend Dennis visited while we were there and gave us a lesson on how to cook Sharptail. Medium rare on low heat! What a wake up call this was when applied to Pheasant as well. So now knowing the birds we worked so hard to find were such a  culinary delicacy we held them in even higher regard. And I must add we enjoyed the drinks, conversation and storytelling Dennis provided as well!
                                                  There was one more lesson we had learned from year to year. There are two very small towns in this area only ten miles apart yet with distinctly different personalities. These were our options if we chose to have dinner out for the evening or meet our friends for drinks. I would simply say that one was much more friendly and open than the other. We were welcomed by nice people we met in both towns but the mood was distinctly different from one to the other. Puzzling. It didn't take us long to figure out where we were most welcome! So the go to place for us anyway was about ten miles away. We were called by name welcomed with a smile and the principal owner's always came to the table to talk. The mood here was upbeat and filled with people drawn to the positive fun loving attitude of this tiny community.
                                                 Opening morning came. We had a good weather forecast for the week without warm temperatures and only mild winds. I had chosen a favorite piece of ground west of the "Old Windmill". The entire area if I had to hunt it all was over a 1000 acres. This was a mixture of pasture with lots of buffalo berries and clumps of little blue stem grass as well as alfalfa and 320 acres of natural prairie. This was bordered by various crop fields of wheat,soybeans and corn. There were also several small sloughs throughout the area with water as well. Being a large area I ran all 3 Setter's and was carrying my Dad's 20 gauge sxs. I had switched from wearing a game vest to just a simple Shoulder bag not wanting the bulk and weight of too much clothing. Still being a little cool in the morning's I'd wear a long sleeve vented nylon shirt and a leather vest over it. I liked going light and knew it wouldn't take long following the Setter's for me to start generating some heat. Knowing the Setter's would be ready to stretch their leg's I heeled them up the section line road and crossed into a short cut alfalfa field. My rationale was there would be less chance of birds being here so if they ran a bit big to begin with no harm done. I was right. They took off glad be be hunting once again and made some big casts about the field then halfway down the quarter mile length of the field they all started zigzagging about tracking scent. I thought we had probably had some birds that had been out feeding earlier in the short cover. The dog's disappeared over a small rise so I picked up my pace and when I got to the top saw them all locked up around a depression in the field with longer grass. I was about 50 yards away and moved in as fast as I dare getting about 15 yards closer when a covey of a dozen or more birds flushed to the west towards the section of prairie. I swung on the bird closest and managed to tip it over breaking a wing. Molly was the first dog to reach the bird and quickly put the Kibosh on it! This was to become her specialty having more prey drive than the males. An unexpected moment but a beautiful sight out in the open cover with all 3 Setter's holding a covey of Sharptail. We continued to the west edge of the alfalfa and crossed into a small area of pasture with thicker cover. The wind was out of the northwest as we crossed this area with the Setter's getting birdy again on the edge where it met the prairie. Beau was in the lead as we crossed the fence and the dog's started circling about and trying to determine the direction these birds had taken. We moved north along the edge. This area had numerous small rises and hills making it desired Sharptail cover as they like the advantage high spots give them. Beau started slowing up and had his nose high and into the wind. The other Setter's followed his lead strung out behind and along side him. I moved up and waited for him to decide if he would remain rigid or move. I suspected these birds were still moving as Beau would move ahead ever so slowly and then stop testing the wind seeing what it would tell him. He was locked up finally on a little knoll with some exposed rocks about. Since his head was high in the air and into the wind I didn't really know how far off these birds might be as Mick was on his left slightly behind him and Molly further behind Beau. I walked ahead ready for a long shot ahead when suddenly two birds burst forth off the front of the knoll to the right! This was a surprise so I had to swing around slightly and fired my first shot and missed but connected on the second. Molly once again being closest made the recovery on this bird. As I was walking in Molly's direction I then heard more birds flushing and turned around to see another group of birds taking flight up ahead. After each bird shot I always put the dog's on down command after praising them to get them settled before we continue. This was starting out to be a beautiful morning! We must have had birds moving ahead and these two were holding tight behind the rest but I got the shot due to how Beau handled the moving birds careful not to push them. Great job!
                                                   We worked the back side of this area bordering wheat stubble and worked around two large hills in the prairie. Once again with Beau in the lead I had a point. He was right on top of the knoll like a statue against a clear blue morning sky. I made my way up the side of the hill getting almost to the top when I heard the familiar chuckle from the pair of Sharptail as they bolted far ahead out of range. The dog's moved on searching out the spot the birds had flushed from and then worked around the bottom of this area quite a while not in exactly the spot I expected there to be birds. However Mick's motto is "No Bird Left Behind". My patience was waning when I lost sight of Mick. It took me a couple minutes remembering the last spot I had seen him when I found him behind me 50 yards on point in heavy grass. I moved right up to him thinking this looks like a Pheasant situation. I kicked the grass. Nothing. Moved around looking. Nothing. Came back to see where Mick was focused and kicked once again. A plump mature Sharptail rocketed straight away chuckling as it went after I fired both barrels missing. A total failure!
                                                    I felt bad for Mick but gave him a scratch behind the ears and thanked him for his due diligence despite being Sharptailed myself. I gathered up the Pup's and took a break before we headed south to the section line road.
                                                    On the way the Setter's were casting about and became birdy again several times without being able to pin down birds. I was getting a workout as the temperature eased up as I kept pace with the pups every time they came on scent. Great exercise! Birds had flushed wild in singles and doubles as we approached the end of this section of prairie when I noticed Molly was on point a hundred yards from the end. I caught up and walked ahead approaching her. Nothing. walked ahead of her. Nothing. I released her and she worked ahead again and came on point again slightly to the east. Same scenario. This bird was moving in here. I walked around again and nothing. Molly continued working the area and once again pointed. She happens to be the best dog on tracking ground scent mostly I believe because she's shorter in stature. I was anxious to get one more chance to redeem myself! I did as I approached and a Sharptail took flight to the east straight away and came down with one report from the gun. I was glad to have shot this bird for Molly as she had worked it all the way and recovered it as well!
                                                      After celebrating the moment it was time to get these pup's into some water so we headed the third of a mile or so back to a small slough and I let the Setter's lounge in the cold water for awhile before we made our way to the Jeep.
                                                      For the next several year's this run became a tradition on opening morning due to the section of natural prairie we loved to walk through that just exemplified the space that these prairie birds make their home. Surviving harsh winters year to year and then going through their ritual mating dance on the surrounding hill tops in the spring then raising broods in the safety of the surrounding cover. An experience I truly considered a great privilege for myself and the Setter's.