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.