It's Good To Be In Big Sky Country

                                             We now had a good idea how to hunt this area but still hadn't found any Hun's. However the Sharptail hunting was exceptional as we found birds both in the brushy areas and out in the open pastures. The Pheasant population was good but it was difficult to corner these birds. This was not an easy hunt and we liked it that way.
                                             We had been eating breakfast and supper in the town where our motel was at but when we tried the town down the road about 8 miles again we discovered a difference in hospitality. So this was another tale of two cities or towns if you will. It's just interesting that areas so close to another can have such a different feel to them. We just felt much more welcome by the staff and customers at the second place we tried down the road and spent the rest of our meals there. There's always a table of regulars at these places and the guys at this one said hello as we entered and talked with us each time we went there. Supper was the same way. When you're on the road finding these places can really add to your trip. The characters you'll meet are often memorable. At this place there was a table of 3 retired guys. The deal was they looked out for each other and kept track of daily events making trips to the grocery store together etc.. A system of coexistence helping one another through these supposed golden years. They were nice guys and treated us like anyone else openly including us in their discussion. Then there was "Bobby". He made his entrance into the cafe greeting the whole place with some expletives about the weather. Loudly. Then he went right up to the kitchen and put the schmooze on the waitress and cook. Of course he picked up on us as strangers right away and said Hi to us asking if we were hunting. It was a grand entrance. Bobby was obviously a local good old boy. When he placed his order he said it loud enough for everybody to hear like" I'm Bobby and here's what Bobby's "eatin". We learned he had moved to Jackson Hole and had an electrical contracting business. He was back to do some work for a friend. Knowing we were hunters by seeing our rig outside he ended up talking dog's with us and the other guys then went out to his truck and got some photo's of a recent successful Big Horn Sheep hunt. This guy was a talker with one volume. Loud. We enjoyed the show! And there was one other reason we liked this cafe. They had a daily selection of pie's! I don't make cream filled pie's but they had two or three kinds every day so I enjoyed taste testing! I met the lady responsible and complimented her sharing with her my passion for pie making. This is a place we would remember and return to. Being friendly was easy for people in this town. Life is sweeter that way. So why deprive yourself? Those were our thoughts for the people up the road anyway.
                                              We had noticed on the species distribution maps that there could possibly be Chukars in this area as well so we decided to walk some high ground west of the ranch. But it didn't take long for us to abandon this pursuit due to the steep terrain. It had all the characteristics of cover these birds would use but the dog's just never picked up any scent. We then went down the road and talked with one of the Cowboys who spent a lot of time in the high country. Tall and lanky with a giant hat and boots almost to his knees this guy was the real deal. Talking with a slow drawl using no more words than necessary he told us he had seen Huns occasionally along the power line area to the east. "Them little birds with the kinda reddish brown on em" he said. None of these people bird hunted so they didn't have much to say although the Cowboys were OK with us hunting as they considered coming across coveys of Sharptail a pain in the ass since they could spook their horses when they took flight.

An example of some of the high ground we walked.

                                             Our decision then was to head east toward the power line.I decided to walk the power line north and meet up with Tom who would leave the truck a mile and a half on top of an open pasture. He would then be hunting the north side of the pasture where there was a ridge and brushy cover sloping to the north. The power line had grassy cover on both sides. This was somewhat of a needle in a hay stack search so I put all 3 dog's on the ground as we headed north. Up and down we went with the Setter's casting about but we just couldn't locate any birds along this path. As we came down a steep hill we were almost to the ridge. To our right the terrain flattened out somewhat. There was a fence line in the bottom with some brush along it as well. As we approached the bottom the dog's picked up scent and started working birds. Since this cover was used by all these species you never quite knew what the surprise would be. Mick was the first to lock up followed by the other two all right at the edge of the fence line where the ridge rose to the pasture above. I moved ahead being fairly close when multiple birds started flushing. Pheasants. I picked out a Rooster flying straight away and he fell on the hillside. I picked up this bird as the dog's continued working across the fence. There were obviously more birds here according to their interest so I crossed over and headed after them. When I got over the rise Molly and Beau were on point by a rock outcropping in the short cover of the pasture. They were now facing south in the direction I had just come. I circled around and came up behind them. Mick was to my left as I slowly tried to get a few steps closer. The birds wouldn't have it. A covey of Sharptail explode off the base of that little rise. I took my first shot and a bird tumbled to the ground. Then a straggler flushed last and I brought that bird down as well. We were lucky to have just found this sweet spot the birds obviously liked. A convergence of terrain features allowing access to open areas but well hidden from the wind. This was a lot of excitement in a very short time period so we collected our birds and took our customary moment together. But we weren't done yet! Molly circled around to the east down the fence line and started getting birdy quickly coming to point within 40 yards of where we just were. Beau and Mick seeing her stopped as well as I made my way forward. Nothing. I walked around and the bird seemed to have run out. The dog's broke and started converging on the scent with Mick crossing the fence back to where we had flushed the Pheasants. He was tracking scent when he suddenly stopped on the side of the ridge pointing to the south. I walked closer and a Rooster flushed from the bottom 20 feet ahead going high. I took my shot and the bird came down hard. Mick headed forward and stood over the bird with a dog grin on his face and tongue lolling about. Wow! Is all I could say! I think his sentiments were the same.
                                       The truck was a quarter mile ahead so we made the trek forward back up the ridge and across the pasture area. Finally we could see the truck and made our way there. I needed a break and I hadn't come across water for the dog's so we unloaded our game bag and took a few moments before heading over to pick up Tom. On the way I took note of another bowl type formation with a dry dam and brushy areas to the east a half mile. We pulled up on the ridge overlooking where Tom was and waited eventually seeing him with his dog's off in the distance working the brushy patches. It had cooled off quite a bit the last hour with some light flurries with cloudy skies as I watched him make his way back south. I had heard him shoot a couple times as he came closer. Sharptail I expected. I was right. Tom had had a good run filling up on Sharptail and putting one Rooster in the bag. However he remarked having a total failure on a double flush with two Roosters bolting out of a fence line. It was like I was shooting blanks he said!
                                         It was late afternoon so we once again cleaned birds on the ridge and headed down to the valley as we were joining Stan and Sharon as our guests for supper in Sheridan that evening.
Most of the day was spent hunting for the birds we eventually found late that afternoon covering a lot of ground but that's why they call it hunting. The hunt is the thrill. Never knowing when it will culminate in a point and successful shot. What we were doing everyday was tough for us and the dog's but combined with the scenery and terrain it made for a great hunt with many exciting moments. I loved these times we were having.The images of the Setter's casting about and pointing birds in this setting was forever burned in my memory. It was good to be in Big Sky country.