Pheasant Sausage

Here are my notes and observations on using Pheasant in a variety of sausage making. Since the Setters and I live in what's called the German triangle of North Dakota we are surrounded by people who regularly make their own sausage. It's very common as you drive around this community of 700 people to smell the delicious aroma's coming from homemade smokers setting in and outside of garages. Just the other day I counted 3 smokers in operation in just a 2 block area as I went to the post office.

My interest in sausage making was motivated by finding new and different ways to utilize Pheasant. First of all I took some lessons on general sausage making techniques from my friend 40 miles east. Willie has been making sausage for his friends and family his whole life. Willie learned his craft growing up on the family homestead. German was the spoken language at home so when he went to school and learned English was the only language allowed he refused to speak the first 2 years!  Anyway home butchering and sausage making are traditions deeply rooted in this culture and are practiced today by many German families using methods and recipe's handed down from generation to generation. However I quickly learned after stuffing sausage and experiencing how I used the meat that I actually liked "loose meat" better. This would be the same sausage ground and spiced but packed in 1 lb packages for convenience. Also not smoking means less salt and no added nitrates or chemicals to worry about. The recipes are really fun to try and customize to your taste. The fat content is another widely contested issue with some folks liking very lean sausage and others preferring a generous fat content in the mix.

My friend Willie giving me a sausage stuffing lesson.
Willie likes his sausage verrry lean and cooked well done!

So where I got to was that I liked enough fat to facilitate cooking and a mix of 60% pork to 40% Pheasant. I buy pork shoulder and trim it somewhat to remove gristle and excess fat. The Pheasant has no fat and is very moist so when added to the pork makes a very tender and quick cooking sausage mix. Each recipe will specify a coarse or fine grind but I've learned my preference with all of them is to use a fine grind. Because of how I use the meat this works best for what I do and how I like to cook it. As I watched other people make sausage I learned there are no hard and fast rules on many things having to do with fresh sausage which you grind add spices mix and freeze. It all starts with the question "How are you most likely to use the meat?".

The use of pork shoulder is the most common added meat in sausage as the resulting percent of fat works well for most recipes. It's a very economical cut of pork as well. The last couple of year's I've bought pork shoulder for anywhere from 1.25 to 1.75 a lb. I've also experimented using lean pork loin and adding coconut oil as the fat. Since it's a solid when cold it can be added through the grinder just like any other fat and then mixed but must be cold or frozen to do so. This is a healthier fat and is an excellent way to create a browning of your sausage when frying. You just calculate what percent of fat you want to add to your mix then weigh add and mix with your lean meat. There is a certain feeling of confidence knowing exactly what is in what you're eating!

Regarding the recipe's I've tried I prefer, a breakfast mix,a Chorizo, and an Andouille. The main ingredient I question is salt content and am experimenting with reduced salt or salt substitutes. Just looking at sausage bought in stores I can tell you that the fat content would surprise you. There's got to be at least 30 to 40% fat in what you're buying. As for salt you wouldn't believe the amount but your Doctor would! I find using spice for flavor can make a very palatable taste without the over use of salt. It just simply is not necessary to over use this ingredient but all our processed food is just full of it.

So why use Pheasant in sausage making? Well first of all it's simply another great way to add the meat to your cooking routine. Secondly it makes a very tender sausage in texture. Thirdly it cooks quickly. The experience of learning about sausage making has been fun as well and I'll continue to experiment along the way!


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Pheasant Chili

Throughout the season I enjoy eating birds as I go most often sauteing them to medium rare and eating them right out of the pan. Sooo good! But as the days pass I begin to freeze filleted breasts and  package legs separately. With the onset of cold weather it's then time to make chili! Here's my recipe both easy and quick. It works great as a way to keep using the wild game after all it does no one any good taking up space in the freezer now does it? So here's how it goes at my house!

  Ingredients


First of all this makes a very large batch so get out your biggest pot and a good size frying pan.

• 2  #10 cans of Tomato Sauce (Yes the big ones! It's easier and cheaper.)
• 1  #10 can Dark Red Chili beans
• 3 packets McCormick Hot Chili seasoning
• 3 medium red onions
• 4 to 5 lbs Pheasant breast filet's
• 3 chicken bouillon cubes

1. Combine and stir the tomato sauce,chili beans and seasoning in a large pot. Very large pot!
2.  Peel and dice the onion. Set aside.
3. Cut Pheasant breasts into strips then cube into bite size. Place in a colander to drain excess moisture.
4. Saute the cubed Pheasant in a fry pan to medium rare using a little oil in your pan. Depending on the size of your fry pan you'll do this in batches. Set aside as you go but do not over cook!
5. Begin heating the large pan of sauce and beans stirring constantly over medium high heat. Do not walk away! You need to keep stirring so as to not allow any settling causing burning as you bring the temperature up and allow the spices to permeate the mixture.
6. Test the flavor as the mixture heats and decide on adding additional seasoning according to your taste. I usually add an additional tablespoon of Cayenne pepper (Oh yeah baby!) however I use very little salt. It's your preference.
7. Add the Pheasant stirring well at this point. If you've discovered your pan is too small for this large batch separate some into another pan. I also add 3 chicken bouillon cubes at this point for added flavor directly to the mix without dissolving in water. They dissolve quickly. Stir, stir,stir!
8. Add the onion and allow the whole mixture to heat until bubbling slightly stirring constantly. Keep tasting the chili as it heats and mixes. If it's too hot add a little garlic that will tone down the hot spice.I add the onion last as I  don't like to over cook them heating just until they release their flavor and stopping. Done!

Chili is an adventure and I enjoy getting it just right. Everybody has a different preference for what they like in it but this basic large batch version works well for me. Using premixed spice packets makes it easier and as I said you can customize then as you go. I freeze it in gallon zip lock bags 6 ladles to a bag so I'm not burdened with too long a run of chili in my diet. The large batch works for me but you may choose to make it in smaller batches or even use different meat as well. Chicken,venison, pork ,beef  whatever you've got on hand. I also like the texture the tomato sauce creates versus tomato juice which makes a watery chili. Remember it's your chili! Have fun!

Gear Talk

The question is what's in a brand? My answer is clues as to whether or not the company is actually where you should be looking for what you need. In regards to upland hunting I've bought from all the major companies and many of the specialty retailers as well. Everybody has favorite pieces of gear and swear by their experiences with it. So here's this year's take on mine.

Cotton pants. I don't care about the weight or weave if you start hunting the early season's in September you have to wear this fabric in the field in one form or another. And if your boots are on the ground on a day to day basis taking you through thorns,cactus, and a whole host of other vegetation and brush you'll have shredded these pants by the start of cold weather. Did I mention crossing over and crawling under fences?

I love these lightweight cotton pants. They even came with a zippered pocket! However they're about as practical as fine china at a 5 year olds birthday party! Not a bargain at 125 dollars.

So as I look at the half dozen or so pairs of these types of pants in my "gear room" I feel duped over what I paid for most of them. You see they are all ripped up and patched multiple times because what I paid for them doesn't allow me to admit I made a bad choice buying the brand versus the product that best suited my needs. So I have to get at least another few year's out of them looking like a Hobo! At anywhere from 125.00 to 175.00 dollars a pair in the end none of them were more functional than a pair of 50 to 65 dollar workman's pants of the same material. And I would add the workman's style pants actually have more functional pockets as well! Pockets being a main point of frustration for me when paying such ridiculous prices for pants that don't have what you really need. Durability,storage and security. So what caused this disconnect? This obvious misguided decision. The answer is slavery to the brand. A conditioning process we grow up with when buying most anything. If that brand happens to market to upper income hunters run Forest run! Because the retailers spend most of their time figuring out how to get that consumer to justify over priced goods (the marketing department) not how to actually make more durable and functional goods. Their value is in the perception of their brand. A confidence scam and a kind of mind game they play with the guys that may go on an annual trip for a week or two. Gee I guess I might as well spend the most I can to insure I did everything possible to make this a great trip! After all I'm already spending beau-coup bucks as it is! Bullshit I say. While these high end retailers granted do some things well the overall value proposition is very weak for the frequent and non frequent hunter alike. So unless you buy into the snake oil scheme of the brand head for the local work clothing retailer and buy yourself a better wearing pair of pants for a fraction of the cost of what's sitting in my gear room all patched up and still missing functional (zipper) pockets.

Boots.The same issue exists with all gear in regards to brand as I've elaborated on but with boots there is one caveat. Without fit there is no value no matter what the price. With all these products for the most part being made by the same manufacturers in China it's absurd to pay more for the same style and leather than you have to. So the detailing is a little different and the finish on the leather varies it's still the same damn boot for the most part! If it fits save yourself some money! Fit is fit.. Now I have a few pair of custom made boots out in my gear room as well made right here in the U.S. but at 4 times the price of the boots I wore most of this season because I liked their fit and they happened to be made of kangaroo and were very lightweight. I got used to the light weight and just kept wearing them everyday. When I didn't have them on I wore another pair which were well broke in and 9 years old.

9 years old and made of Kangaroo leather. Lightweight and they fit great.

I rotated boots pretty regularly you see until this year when I just went with the lighter weight boots for days in a row. But anyway both pair fit very well and cost me about 125 bucks new several years ago. I had one pair resoled during that time and had the toe caps repaired on the other. As for the $500 a pair boots made right here in the U.S. I have no complaints on durability but had problems because two pair were made wrong and had to be remade. That whole process took months to complete for each pair. I've had them resoled and  they've held up extremely well and are in great condition. I expect I'll have them for 20 year's and may never wear them completely out if I keep rotating boots as I go. I feel I bought the product in regards to these boots and not the brand. Even so the brand stands actually for what I want. Customization,fit, durability and repair ability. Those were the brand clues I looked for and as I said they "fit".

Custom made in the USA but they had to be made twice before each pair was right! I don't think I'll ever wear them out. Excellent boots.

Jackets. Hanging in my closet upstairs is a 500 dollar technical upland jacket I wore on a trip to Kansas several years ago.

The 500 dollar technical upland jacket made of heavy tent like material. Clammy,heavy,and definitely not cut for layering. When I tried to give it away people said "No thanks'. It's "technically" worthless to me but it is made in the USA! Again worthless to me.

It's an XL but not cut to layer and if you do it binds when you shoulder your gun and is too tight. Add to that it's made of heavy waxed canvas material. It actually makes me think of someone taking an old tent and saying, "Hey lets make a jacket out of this stuff!" I wore this thing day after day for a week and a half. If you'd start to perspire it'd just hang on you and get stiff in the cold. The hood it came with was just as useless. "Here put a piece of canvas on your head that'll keep out the wind and cold!" I've tried to give this thing away and people say "No thanks it feels a little heavy. What is this material anyway?" I like to go light so I've always carried a shoulder bag for game and shells since that time which gives me flexibility with jackets. Since I hunt on the plains I can wear fleece material not having to worry about briars and brush.
This season I've had an issue with muscle tension in my back so I had to go to wearing a strap vest though as the shoulder bag with a few birds would put pressure on my back in an uneven manner. Since I abhor the legions of orange men out in the field group hunting I don't like to wear orange but after having people get in my way on runs from time to time because they don't know where the hell they're at I have to wear it so I don't get shot during peak times of the season. Well as you might have guessed this is about a jacket with orange on it! Advertised as an essential piece of gear and a best selling jacket recommended by professional guides who wear it daily I decided to give it a try. Well the first day I put it on before I even got out the door one of the snaps on the cuffs broke off. Plastic.

Never made it out the door before the snaps broke on this 225 dollar jacket.

Then I noticed it didn't have a chest pocket just 2 zippered side pockets. I thought for 225.00 dollars why couldn't you put in at least an inside chest pocket? It wasn't to long before the other cuff snap broke as well. However the fit was very good and the neck was fit so as to keep out the wind which I like. But wouldn't you expect that for about twice what this thing is actually worth? That's where I'm at. Turns out the side pockets zipper is reversed so it's almost impossible to get them open with one hand and then there's like a no man's land inside them so things can get pushed back and inside the pocket in a way that's hard to get them out. And this company markets this as an essential piece of gear?

Just a lot of complaining I know. But it's the truth. Paying for what you don't get! What's in a brand? Not what you need far to often but what you think you might want. Look for the clues before you buy that tell you if you're shopping at the right place.Then look beyond the brand and ask yourself is this made and priced for dreamers or doers?

Thanksgiving

Home for the holiday was this year's theme for the Setter's and I. Hunting through this week is the norm for us and even if we did want to travel my van needs to have 2 fuel injectors replaced so business as usual as they say until it's my turn at the local repair shop.

Beau had been recuperating from a stretch of long days in the field so the rotation on the holiday fell to Mick this year. I'd planned a nice dinner of smoked turkey,garlic mashed cauliflower,the traditional green bean casserole and of course pumpkin pie! Several hours in the making and only minutes to eat. I laughed at all the work but had fun embracing the spirit of the holiday with the only family present being my 3 Setters. My life companions. Their treat being the drippings from the turkey on their kibble.

It was another cold day and after consuming much more than my normal caloric intake I just had to walk it off. Mick knew of course that he was on deck as I swear they keep track. He'd been looking at me with those big brown eyes for two days now. Then he was also staying close to me as well keeping track of my every move as if to send the message any way he knew how. Put me in coach! Of course when I started putting on my boots I had all 3 of them lobbying to go along. After gathering all my gear I finally put an end to the suspense and put Mick's GPS collar on him. He immediately headed to the back door to make sure in fact he got on this holiday run.

I loaded the Jeep and started the engine then walked to the garage to grab my vest having left it there the previous day after cleaning our birds. After loading Mick I mentally went over my list and made one more trip into the house to fill a water bottle I carry with me for the dog's. That done we were off. Finally.

Mick's riding shotgun with me once again and I look over and just feel lucky. Spending some one on one time with him is a perfect way to celebrate the day as I'm truly thankful for his company. We arrive 20 minutes later at our destination a run that has some heavy cover we can skirt and give Mick a chance to work his magic. While it's true he's a methodical hunter he's very smart making up for any speed and endurance he may have had in younger days.

I let him out of the Jeep before I had my vest on and when I turned to look for him when I was ready he was nowhere to be seen. I walked around and looked across the gravel road and no Mick. I listened carefully and heard nothing. Then I glanced back in the direction of the Jeep to the west and there he was 20 feet from the jeep on the edge of a cut corn field. Pointing! Again I think of how many times I've learned this lesson of not releasing the setters till I'm all ready myself. I walk in slowly and nothing flushes. I release Mick and he scouts the immediate area and it's obvious the bird has run out but fun to experience anyway. After thoroughly checking the area as only Mick does he's ready to move on so we cross the road and head east.

Once in heavy cattails along a pasture Mick gets birdy again and in short order is pointing along the edge of the pasture into the cattails. I walk towards him and nothing flushes again. Moving birds I say to myself. Sure enough as Mick and I move on 3 hens bust wild to my right 30 yards. I stand on the edge of some heavy grass as I watch Mick work out into the light grass of the pasture in a way indicating he's tracking moving birds. Nose to the ground and not in the air in a zig zag pattern. Skeptical as to whether it's worth my while to cross 2 fences to follow him I stand and watch. Terrible of me I thought later. Where's the faith? But anyway this track eventually after a couple hundred yards came back towards me. In the mean time as I was walking east to keep even with Mick I walked into a group of at least a dozen hens that flushed wild in a  narrow waterway. This was now coming together in my mind. Obviously with the corn recently harvested we had a large number of birds now using the cover Mick and I were walking through. Today some had moved forward and some as evidenced by Mick's track had wandered out into the adjacent pasture. I'd seen 15 hen's now so where were the roosters?

Mick seemed to lose the track he was on as he came closer to the fence line. Eventually he crossed to my side and continued on along the water's edge of a frozen waterway with a narrow band of cattails. The cattails were 6 feet high plus and I was able to keep visual contact with him as there was a ridge immediately to the west. Moving birds on this long of a track I thought what are the possibilities he's still on the same birds?. I checked my GPS as we went along when I'd lose visual contact not wanting to spook any birds and staying as quiet as possible to let Mick keep working. I then reflected on how Mick never gives up if he thinks there are birds in an area. He is extremely patient and persistent.  After a quarter of a mile now he just kept working diligently in and out around the edge of this waterway as I kept pace as best I could.

A couple minutes later as we came to a bend I lost visual contact with Mick. I stopped and listened,. Silence again. I couldn't see him at all but knew he had to be close. So risking not being ready if a bird flushed I pulled out my GPS. Much to my surprise Mick was just opposite me 15 feet away on point! I carefully readied myself and stepped closer to the edge of the cattails from where I had been walking a little higher up the side of the ridge. I had to flush this bird so I had to walk into the cover which was over my head. Just when I got to the edge the bird took flight making the biggest ruckus I can remember hearing. I knew this had to be a rooster as it tried to fight it's way above the cover but do you think I'd shoulder my gun? Hell no. I was like a 12 year old kid on his first hunt as this huge rooster rose above the top of the cattails looking right at me as he determined which way he was going to go! I watched as he came right across in front of me and finally shouldered my gun as I watched him continue flying after firing two shots! Totally mesmerized by that rooster I reached into my pouch and reloaded my gun but as I was doing so another rooster rose in much the same fashion! From 15 feet away. So now prepared once again I listened for Mick. Nothing. Again silence. I thought it's impossible that I'd get one more chance today but I walked ahead a little bit and yet another rooster beat his way into the air and fell with my next shot! My God I thought how lucky and glad I was to consummate that moment for Mick. I admit to being a very average shooter made to look way better by such capable bird dog's! And that is a moment I can't recall being more thankful for in all the times with Mick over the year's. How fitting it would happen on Thanksgiving as well!

As I finish writing this story I've just returned from another afternoon run with Mick. It's the first day of a major winter storm. But I just couldn't resist taking a walk with him. I miss him in the field and wish he could come with me every day. Today like so many other days this season on just a short run he pointed me a beautiful rooster I shot for him. It was snowing and blowing with winds 20 to 35 mph and 14 degrees as ice crystals hit my face. His coat was covered in snow as well but I could tell he loved every minute of it. Thanks again Mick!

Thanks for all the times Mick!

Cold Snap

Many people are puzzled by why I would want to live in this God forsaken place. Coming from the beautiful rolling hills of southwest Wisconsin's driftless area I understand the look of puzzlement on the faces of people I meet when I say, 'Yes I live here". Even though it's like living in a fish bowl some days after a few year's now I've learned to accept the curiosity of my neighbors and just plain don't care about what anybody else thinks about why I'm here. That's the guy with the bird dog's they say.

Hunting the "Cold Snap"

But for someone like myself there are definite advantages to calling this place home. Observing the wildlife throughout the year and scouting my hunting area tells me where broods are at in the spring for example. As I was relating to my neighbor a couple weeks ago this is an important part of being successful in the fall. Land use changes and birds locate to desirable cover to nest and raise their broods so logging their location throughout the spring and summer determines where we hunt. As the harvest then allows us to get into areas I know had a successful hatch we work our way through our inventory of possibilities that suit the type of cover I like to hunt with the setters. We avoid the areas that get a lot of pressure opting for the out of the way spots that I know hold a few birds. Again by watching the harvest progress on a weekly and daily basis this allows us to hunt those birds that have not seen any hunting pressure on a more regular basis.

Another key advantage combined with scouting broods and tracking the harvest is timing our hunts with weather conditions. When you plan a hunting vacation a year in advance you're at the mercy of many factors including access,hunting pressure,bird populations and weather,wind ,rain,snow and extreme temperatures both hot and cold. So I hope it's becoming more clear why I actually choose to live here! Combining the knowledge of where birds are likely to be, at what time of the year,week, and day with the advantage to hunt them in optimal conditions for success is what a passionate bird hunter lives for or at least I do. Because I can. I decided a long time ago that I was going to live focused on what was within my reach and means today not working my ass off till some time in the future when I was too used up to live my dream.

That brings me to the purpose of this narrative which is hunting the periods of significant temperature changes. Most people I know are fair weather hunters or skiers. In fact I've shared the chairlift many times with people on some pretty extreme weather days both cold and windy that have said "If you wait till the weathers perfect you're just not going to get in many days skiing!". And how very true that is. It also applies to bird hunting. But the advantage in bird hunting is that the birds change their habits when the temperature dips. So instead of looking at the forecast and saying not today we say "Hell yeah let's go!"

A cold Dakota morning in fresh snow.

On one such day a couple weeks ago the temperature dropped to single digits from a period of pretty mild overnight temps some of which weren't even freezing. It was time to run Mick so I picked a spot close to a half section of standing corn that had a couple acres of heavy weedy cover close by and some water and cattails across the road. Refuge from the cold and wind was this morning's formula with temps in the single digits. My fingers were cold in short order but I prefer to wear light shooting gloves anyway. I had my head ban on to cover my ears and a couple of layers over my wool long underwear. Luckily the jacket I chose had a tight fitting collar to keep the wind out as well which was 10 to 15 mph and enough to remind you  this is the real deal. It's cold! Mick was birdy immediately picking up scent as we walked up to the weedy patch. Shortly after he came to point on a hen tucked in on the edge of the adjacent bean field which I flushed for him. I can't recount all the times the setters have been on birds right out of the Jeep in the past. That's why I've learned not to release them until I'm loaded and ready to go! We continued on through this 2 acre patch just right for Mick although some of the cover is pretty thick but he makes his way at his own speed. He picks up scent again about halfway through and heads on a line towards the road and the edge of the cover. A hundred yards into this track he turns to the north into the wind and stops head high straight ahead. As I approach he goes rigid meaning I've got em R! I cautiously move ahead with my 20 gauge sxs and a long tail rooster bolts straight away to the right falling with a single report. Mick gets to the bird before me and stands with his tail wagging. Well done Mick I say scratching his ears. I take note again of the cold but that's why these birds were in here this morning instead of the standing corn. That's been the battle all season with crops put in late and virtually all the corn standing 4 weeks into the season. We then hunt the other side of the road and Mick works a group of hens then moves ahead working what turned out to be another rooster on the edge of the water but when he came to point I chose the wrong position and forced the bird to fly over the water. Not a chance of me getting wet today I thought as I watched him fly away. By the time we worked to the end of the shoreline and back to the Jeep a half mile south Mick was played out but had done a great job once again on the season's first really cold morning. That spot was a  good call I thought as we made our way back home for a cup of coffee and a bowl of bean soup.

Invigorated now by the cold the afternoon would belong to Beau today. Sunset was around 5 o'clock so I wanted to spend about three hour's on our next run. This again was an area with a half section of corn still standing so the strategy was the same. This was a day we would try to catch the birds spending the afternoon in the heavier cover versus staying in the corn all day. This I hoped would hold true for both pheasants as well as sharpatil grouse. The prospect of a mixed bag makes North Dakota hunting really exciting as well as extending your hunt beyond a limit of one species.

Beau and I arrived at our destination a good 20 miles from home and with the wind coming out of the north we walked to the south end and started our run skirting some cattails directly across from the corn. Beau again was into scent right away as well not to my surprise this time. He came to point a few moments later as a group of a dozen hens scattered in all directions after fighting their way out of the heavy cover. I was encouraged to find them as I thought at this time of day. Even though the sun was out it was still extremely cold with the wind still at 10 to 15 mph. Steady. We continued working along the south edge when we came to a run of cattails somewhat narrow and running along a low ridge. Beau became birdy working 20 feet across from me in and around the cattails. Working his nose to the ground we had a running bird I surmised. Suddenly behind me a sharptail took flight! I spun around and fired. Missing. Then Beau continued on still working in the same manner. He stops then right on the edge where the cattails meet the grass of the adjacent ridge. I walked ahead a few steps and another sharptail takes off from the heavy grass ahead of me flying right to left. I fire at 40 yards and the bird falls. Beau crosses and locates the bird in the tall grass. We've hit this run on the right day I thought and despite the intense cold I'm glad to be here!

We moved on covering a line along more of the same heavy cover with no birds. I then decided to circle to the north and come back to the west working the opposite edge along a bean field which had two sloughs adjacent to heavy grass we were working. My thinking being any birds that were feeding in the bean field would today be in the heavy cover of the sloughs at this time. We approached the first slough right on the fence line. Beau worked into the wind and was startled when a hen busted wild right in front of him. He looks at me like "Hey don't blame me that bird came from nowhere"! No worries I thought. Then a few seconds later he's on point not 10 feet from where the hen busted. I take a couple steps forward and a long tail rockets up high right past me crowing all the way! I fire before he levels off and he drops as Beau locates him a few feet away. Wow was that exciting or what I thought. Two more birds flushed as well but I had my back turned so I'm not sure what they were.

After gathering ourselves we continued around the 3 acre area of heavy cover without another bird. We walk west along the fence line towards the next slough which is a little larger. Beau works the edge in a counter clockwise manner and pick's up scent about half way around. He comes to point and I flush a hen right on the edge. Then he still acts birdy and within 20 yards is pointing again in some heavy cattails. I see him from the edge and walk straight at him. Another long tail cackles into the air and I again drop him with a single report from my 20 gauge sxs. This time on the ice right in the open. I pick up this bird and we again take a moment before making our way around the slough. Just as we were coming to the end Beau was again working scent in and out around the edge and another sharptail flushes to the left at 30 yards. I again drop the bird on the ice in the middle of the area and we repeat the celebration! Suddenly I'm not so cold anymore although my game vest is getting a little heavy!

We're a quarter mile from the Jeep now with a limit of roosters for the day and 2 sharptail so our opportunity on this run is for one more sharptail. Having been at it for most of the day I opt to just walk the fence line back to the Jeep. I've observed this population of sharptail many times at this time of the day feeding in the bean field and roosting in the adjacent grass for the night so this was a good call I thought given the extreme cold as well. We came to the crest of a hill and Beau became birdy again slowing up along the edge ahead of me. I quickened my pace but a covey of sharptail busted from around some bushes and out of range. Hoping for stragglers I approached cautiously and sure enough another bird flushed right on the edge straight away! Again I fired and the bird was down with a single report in the tall grass. I called Beau over and he located the bird for me in short order. What fun I thought. Right place. Right time. Right temperature!

With an eighth of a mile left Beau worked another half dozen sharptail on the edge as I watched them fly off to the hills. It'd been a long week and I'd run him more than planned but he was always a willing participant along with myself. Mind you days like this happen only a few times a season and certainly are not the norm but the advantage is that living in bird country allows you to seize the opportunity of the "Cold Snap!"

End Of The Day

As the season continues conditions change in many ways. The harvest removes cover shifting birds to adjacent havens of cattails and heavy grass wherever they can find it. The wind and cold together become a more dominant foe to the hunter and his bird dog's creating yet more advantage for the birds. As a result fatigue is now more of a factor with terrain more difficult to walk being icy and snow covered at times as well.

The number of runs and days without a bird in the bag increases but it seems every day has it's opportunities to do so. I experience day after day of excellent shooting followed by days when the wheels just seem to fall off. But like a runner that needs to get outside and put on miles everyday following your dog mile after mile is an addiction in much the same way. It feels good just to feel the sun on your face and watch your dog work birds so you're not concerned about numbers any more. It's about just being out there now. Seeing tracks in the light snow revealing where the birds are living and the cover they're using. I'm relieved walking new terrain to notice the tracks confirming populations surviving and doing well. I think about future possibilities and hope for next year's hatch. But with each passing day all the birds are more wary and spooky it seems so with populations at a low point putting a bird in the bag is more of a celebration now. We focus on the moment. A point on a bird is a win and something to cherish regardless of whether or not it results in a bird being taken.

Yesterday I took both Mick and Molly on short runs about an hour long in cover they could handle and both Setters pointed several birds. It made me think of their younger days and the miles we would cover but regardless of age nothing has changed their individual style of handling birds. I'm so glad to still be able to  watch each of them work these birds and recall the skills they have that have made us such a great team in the field. It was 14 degrees in the afternoon and a little colder for the morning run with winds 15 to 25 but I just had to be out there and so did they. It's what we do together. In both runs we had roosters pointed but they ran out ahead and flushed letting the wind quickly carry them out of range. A victory still for having challenged them on such a day. Both dog's had some great points on single hens holding tight as well.

So it's about the moments. Feeling the sun in your face. The wind as it blows. Old dog's still working their magic. Wildlife moving around you. The geese,ducks,deer and predators all sharing the same spaces as you make your way. Then the sun starts descending putting on an incredible show yet another reward and moment reminding me that a good day can be measured in many ways. I then reflect on the last several year's of my life and think how truly glad I am to be here as a distant rooster crows signaling another beautiful "End Of The Day".

Big Grass

Beau and I took a walk in a beautiful section of grass bordered by water and harvested bean fields the other day during the first week of November. As I watched him cast out into the grass it was like

de javu. For years we would hunt this type of cover almost exclusively avoiding the cattail sloughs and water bogs leaving those for the masses of group hunters hoping to surround and ambush birds in the thick cover.

Beau just put his nose to the wind and followed the scent as he held his head up high. A beautiful sight and experience I miss so much now that most of the CRP acres are forever gone in this part of the country. This is our game. A needle in a haystack I call it.The birds are free to run and try all their tricks to out maneuver the Setters. That's what makes it a great game to play. The odds are really in the birds favor challenging us to a duel on the prairie. As the sun beamed down on us I could see Beau's coat shine in the light and see the silky texture of his hair blow in the wind. Clean and beautiful. No mud and masses of cockle burrs to contend with.

Our path is not in a straight line. After all birds don't stick to a straight line now do they? There is no whistle blowing. No sounds from a dog yelping from being shocked for getting to far ahead. No talking. No yelling. Just a dog surfing the wind back and forth across the landscape. Silent. Natural. I stop as I watch Beau circle trying to determine the direction a moving bird took then making eye contact with me as he passes. Searching.

Finally he takes a line towards a depression with head high taking in scent. This bird has chosen a path and Beau's found it. He slows as we approach and skirts the edge of the cover then heads south. The bird has continued to move and I stay close as Beau moves ahead casting back and forth to determine where this birds headed. I look ahead and we're moving towards a wind break planting of trees about 3 feet high with waist high weeds in between the rows. Heavy cover.

Beau is tall enough so that I can easily see him in this cover. I'm concerned this bird will run down a row and into cattails to the east but Beau is casting in a circle again trying to pick up the scent and cut the bird off. We've been pursuing this bird for about 200 yards I suspect. Beau comes around in front of me as I stand and watch him taking in the scent heading west toward the water. I can tell he's picked up this bird again as his posture changes slightly and he slows a bit. Cautious. Then suddenly the moment comes and he stops crouching slightly. This usually means he's quite close to the bird an occurrence common in heavier cover with the birds tucked in tightly. I'm only 10 feet away and pick my line of approach to the west. Beau's looking into the weedy grass right in front of him. I take a quick step ahead kicking the grass and a mature rooster fights his way above the cover. This was a classic pursuit and I don't hesitate firing a single shot from my 20 gauge sxs quickly bringing down the bird.

As I pickup the bird I can't help but reminisce a little about all the birds we've taken in similar surroundings. It just doesn't get much better than this I know all to well.  I then let Beau inspect our bird before putting it in my vest. I look down at him in his eleventh year and can't believe how lucky I've been to have hunted behind such a dog. Again I smile also glad to have found where we really belong together. In the wide open spaces...  of the "Big Grass" country.

First Snow

It's October 22nd and as I let the Setters out at 6 a.m. I'm surprised by an inch of snow covering the ground. A couple things go through my mind. First of all I'm glad I had just finished repairing my chain link fence in the back yard the day before but more importantly I knew this would be a great day to be in the field bird hunting! I'd run Beau of course because I planned on covering some ground today and when I saw the snow I knew exactly where I'd head. The hill country. This is an area where I hunt a quarter section of grass and heavy cover then swing to the south into some beautiful rolling hills in pursuit of sharptail grouse.

I rushed through my morning coffee getting my gear together and the Jeep set up with everything I'd need for the day. On days like this it's like a reflex. Grab the gear load the dog and go! So we did. While the sun was still trying to peak through the clouds we were on the road headed for our destination. Beau's been doing a fantastic job for me. I've been running him every other day as he'll be 11 in January. Giving him a break seems to be helping him maintain his weight. He just covers so much ground he can get run down pretty quick. I was excited to run him in the hill country as it's such a sight to see him against that scenery coming to point on the hilltops like a statue against the landscape. That's what makes me walk for miles in these hills hoping to see this dog setting a covey of grouse just one more time.

We arrived with a few minutes to sun up as I gathered myself and turned on Beau's GPS collar. We'd be running in some heavy grass to the east first covering some cattail waterways along the way hoping to see some roosters or sharptail on the edges. That reminds me of a famous quote from my friend Bernie Weigel still hard at it in his 70's " The pheasant is an edge bird" he'd remind us as we traveled together listening to A.M. radio on the way to our destinations. Another famous quote was "We can hunt here" as he dropped us off for runs. Sometimes that was true and sometimes it was not! Today Beau and I started our run in a quarter section of a federal waterfowl production area so no worries about trespassing like the old days. Frankly the public access is one of the things that drew me to this country many years ago. As Beau and I move east I can see paths deer have made in the light snow covered grass brushing it off as they made their way. We worked from south to north into the wind heading for the edge of a bean field. Upon approach a full covey of 10 sharptail flush ahead of us from around a small set of bushes on a knoll. A good sign I think as I watch them circle around over the adjacent section of beans. This area holds a good population of sharptail but I hadn't seen them in a while and suspected they were living around the shallow sloughs within these crop fields. Untouchable until harvest.

We continued along the north fence line along this bean field hoping to find birds in the grass on the edge. A hundred yards ahead I then see a few birds flying into the grass from a circular slough in the bean field. Pheasants. Although at this early hour I couldn't identify hen or roosters. As we moved forward Beau picked up scent and began working the grass casting in a circle then heading south a hundred yards towards a line of cattails along a waterway. I followed along in the cold morning air with snow now lightly falling with a few rain drops as well. He disappears from sight and I stand motionless listening for him moving in front of me but I hear nothing. After a few seconds I check my Garmin GPS and Beau's on point just 15 yards to my right. I choose my path in the cattails trying to catch a glimpse of him as I slowly make my way. Nothing. I check my Garmin again. He's just in front of me. I move a little closer. Finally I see his shoulder in between the cattails locked up on this bird! I move ahead steadily and a hen bursts out of the thick cover! Beau then moves turning back behind me and I lose sight of him again. I just continue in that direction knowing he's just got to be slightly ahead of me and there he is pointing into the cattails right on the edge of the waterway. I move in and another bird busts through the cover. This time it's a nice rooster and I fire dropping the bird in the open water of the slough. I walk toward the bird picking it up then go to reload my 20 gauge sxs when another rooster busts from the same cover! I can only watch as I stand there with my gun open but happy to see the sight on this crisp October morning. Beau comes around and we gather ourselves before continuing on to the east end of this run.

We head back north to the edge of the grass and Beau works a hen running in the grass as I watch him work his magic. Always keeping track of where I'm at he circles continuously trying to cut off this bird. Finally the bird gets between Beau and I and busts wild. We then turn south again toward a large pot hole and I see a Robo duck working in the corner. A couple of waterfowler's signal to me and I wave as we then head away. This changes what we were going to do somewhat so I just thought all right Beau we'll just head for the hills!

We worked more shoreline with cattails on the way moving some ducks for the waterfowlers who banged away as they sat on their asses. These guys had parked their vehicle right on the hill behind them in a section line right of way. Then as we were walking back west to where I wanted to head for the hills I looked to the sky seeing a large group of sharptail that had come from the north out of the bean field. I counted 22 birds as they floated into the hills. A very good sign indeed! I hadn't seen sharptail in numbers in this area all season so far. Last year this population when grouped up was as many as 4 to 5 dozen birds at times. But with poor spring hatching weather I was very glad see these numbers.

We walked on excited by what we had just seen. I put the waterfowlers out of my mind knowing no one else would hunt hose hills like we were about to do. Smaller than the foothills in Montana country we've hunted but challenging just the same. As we circled to the point I wanted to enter the hills I saw the duck hunters driving their truck down to the waters edge to pick up their gear. Great I thought we'll skirt the edge of the pot hole to the south and enter the hills from the east end of this 2 square mile pasture these grouse call home. As we walked this edge Beau got birdy along the way working in and out of the cattails then as we approached where the duck hunter's had been just minutes before he went on a straight line along the edge and I knew what this meant. The bird was running ahead of him. Since my back had been bothering me walking on the uneven ground I decided to not run along for the chance of a shot. I walked along as fast as I could and sure enough a rooster busted wild at 40 yards flying over the water. This is the second time in as many weeks this has happened in the same spot. As I watched this bird fly north across the pot hole I named him the "South Side Rooster". We'll dance another day I thought.

Before heading south into the hills I stopped picking up the trash left behind by the duck hunters. Unbelievable. A big potato chip bag, 2 candy wrappers, and a few spent shells. So long fella's don't come back soon I thought. Assholes! Fucking assholes!

But once in the hills we were in another world it seemed like. The big open country. Having seen multiple birds with a nice rooster in the bag I was ready to play a very different game. Pursuing the Prince of the Prairie. The sharptail grouse. Seeing these birds take to the air in the open cover is just spectacular and presents some rewarding but challenging shooting opportunities. That is if you walk far enough! We walked back a mile or so before turning into the wind heading to the west. The plan was to walk in a diagonal line through the hills letting Beau work the hills and bowls hoping for a point. We had gone about a quarter mile when Beau got birdy approaching the crest of a hill. I quickly caught up to him as he slowly worked to the top and froze with his head high looking west. I walked up to him  and surveyed the landscape ahead realizing he was pointing birds at quite a distance. They had to be somewhere on the next hill I thought. Sure enough As I walked ahead in that direction a large group took flight out of range. What an incredible sight! Beau continued into the scent. I was hoping for stragglers as we approached the area a hundred yards ahead of us but there were none. Beau cautiously worked the area over as there was scent everywhere of course.

Up and down the hills we went to the west. I just love watching this dog in these hills. He's big and lanky but hunts with incredible style never wanting to push birds. I trust him and just let him do his job as we cover ground never stopping as we go up and down again and again. Both cautious as we come to the rise of every hill the preferred resting places of these birds who use sight as their primary defense. When I had looked out from where this large group had flushed I realized we didn't have a chance. They were on the tallest hill around watching our every move I realized as we entered their domain. It was an incredible view from my perspective as well. I thought about the respect I have for these birds as I looked at the world from their vantage point. Amazing I thought to myself how they make their life in these places with a climate that can be quite harsh and unforgiving. Yet they've been here for hundreds of years. The objective is to continue on hoping for a situation where Beau's advantage of scent can even the odds over the sight advantage of the birds. Finally as we approach the west end of the pasture another half mile away Beau goes on point again on the top of a ridge. I can't believe I get to see this image of him again so soon but there he is once again like the Crazy Horse monument looking over the landscape. And again pointing at a  distance I can tell with head held high. As I come even to him another covey of a dozen birds takes off from the fence line a hundred yards ahead out of range but a beautiful sight no less and I'm happy for the moment once again. Then as we descend the ridge into a bowl Beau slows and points again. This is it I thought! My chance at a shot. Sure enough as I cautiously continued forward a single flushed at 40 yards falling with a report from my 20 gauge. I stopped and let Beau work into the scent pointing the bird again. I approached as it fluttered up with Beau pinning it with his paw until I picked it up. Adding the bird to our bag I was thrilled to have seen the birds we'd encountered and having that shot made every step worth the walk.

We were now a half mile from the end of the run and made our way to the road through the grass cutting across the quarter section where we started. When we came to the road I thought well this is as good a place as any to spend our day so I decided to skirt along a half section of corn adding another 3 miles or so to our run but it was such a beautiful morning why not I said as I looked at Beau.

On we went with me walking a grassy section line road. Alfalfa to my left and corn on the right. Beau quickly picked up scent along the corn and pointed among some ragweed but the bird had obviously run out. Odds of a good setup were pretty low here but it's these challenging situations given time that are often times productive in the end. This cat and mouse game continued as we turned the corner walking the back of the corn now bordering a pasture with no birds holding. Beau worked in and out of the corn edge keeping sight of me and me him with my Garmin as we walked along. Then 3/4 of the way on the back side he came to point along an open waterway that had been mowed this year. This was short green cover and I truly didn't know what to expect. As I approached Beau 75 feet ahead of me a sharptail flushed to my left 75 yards ahead along the pasture fence. This bird must have been along the corn moments before where Beau had come to point. I watched as the bird flew a short distance into the pasture hills and thought okay lets head that direction. Crossing yet another fence we both headed west into the pasture. About 200 yards in Beau slowed up and stood into the wind in the open. Looking ahead was a shallow depression with a little water and some soft grassy cover. I had thought the sharptail went a little farther but I slowly walked a couple yards ahead and a full covey of screeching Huns took flight flying right to left! I fired missing my first shot but brought down a bird on the second. What a surprise! Beau picked up our bird and I looked at it for a few moments after taking it from him. Beautiful birds. I then added it to our bag now holding 1 rooster 1 sharptail grouse and 1 Hungarian partridge. An unexpected bag to say the least. Then as always Beau circles the area for scent but this time he gets birdy right away to the west going towards the next ridge. In the excitement of the flush I didn't recall seeing or hearing that sharptail take flight so I thought maybe it could still be in the area. I walk ahead following Beau as he climbs the ridge slowing up as he goes. I'm ready for a flush at anytime knowing the ridge tops are the likely spot the sharptail will flush from but he gets to the top and again strikes a beautiful pose for the third time today to the west with head held high into the wind. I look ahead and realize he's once again pointing to the next hill in front of us. I cautiously move downward and ahead hoping the look outs are just over the rise giving me a chance to approach but I'm busted again just out of range as another group of 18 birds this time take flight across the open pasture hills. I watch again as they go by. What an incredible day I thought thankful for what we had seen and the opportunities we had.

We took the waterway that ran between the corn back to the Jeep a mile and a half away now stopping to rest a couple times with my back reminding me I had walked a few miles beyond my limit. This is what it must be like for old bird hunters I thought as I looked at Beau. The sky had cleared and the sun was in my face. Any discomfort I felt now was diminished by what we had just experienced together this beautiful morning of "First Snow".

A Walk With Mick

Mick turned 11 a week ago and in his subtle but persistent way had been trying to get me to let him go to the field every time I'd get ready. He's a proud dog. He was first to the household and claimed me early on along with his spot at my side whether in the house or riding shotgun in the Jeep. Now arthritis makes it difficult for him to get around but his nose works just fine so I walk fence lines with him or the edge of pot holes if the grass isn't to heavy. We stop frequently and he just sits or lays down for a couple minutes looking at me with those big brown eyes. A look that makes me remember all we've been through and done together.He's one of those special dog's that come along once in a lifetime. A natural you might say. A beautiful Setter and affectionate companion. He's the Setter on the cover page of the Blog at age 5. These walks now are what I owe him for having been so lucky to have had him in my life. He has a playful attitude even at this age rolling on his back as we take time out as if to say "There's no hurry R just enjoy the day!" And so we do as we walk along together once again. Just the two of us.

Yesterday I had planned to guide a relative of my neighbor and his 10 year old son on a hunt but at the last minute they cancelled deciding to hunt as a group with a few other people. I was relieved actually as I prefer to hunt solo and value every day in the field with my Setters. So I exhaled somewhat puzzled about the short notice but dismissed my thoughts as an opportunity to have the morning to myself. I had run Beau hard the previous day on a great run and Molly the day before that on an evening "Magic hour" run at the end of the day so I now was conscious of a constant stare coming from Mick as he followed my every move. I laughed to myself that he knew very well that it was his turn! And he was right it was. It was time for he and I to have our run together. Actually I was pretty tired out from the previous day having gone a couple miles beyond my comfort zone so a slow walk with Mick would be perfect to start the day. So I gave Mick the nod and put on his collar as he wagged his tail in approval as the other Setters rallied around him.

I use a step stool now to help the Setters into the Jeep and Mick crawls up with a little help then makes his way to the front seat beside me. His spot forever. I could tell he just loved being there once again as we pulled away. I love it too. "You're my boy" I tell him and he returns the comment with a look that says "You're mine as well". I know I'll always remember and think about that look long after he's gone. We then make our way out of town heading north. I take my fly rod along as well planning to maybe stop at the lake for a while to catch some pike. I thought maybe we'd walk a pasture in that area. But as we rode along a secondary gravel road we drove by a familiar area and I thought about an edge along a pot hole maybe twenty feet wide that would be perfect for Mick. It ran for about a quarter mile and was right across from a section of sunflowers. Looking at this from the road no one would bother to hunt it as it just doesn't look like it would hold birds. But actually I've learned to find these spots with so many hunters competing for places to hunt. And more times than not they do hold birds. The places that don't get pressure. The birds learn it as well. Little pieces of heaven I call them.

 I parked the Jeep at the north end of this long pot hole and let Mick out. It'd be an easy walk for him with water available for him to cool off a great part of hunting in North Dakota. He headed into the road ditch right away thick with heavy grass just surveying the area. Then he turned south and started working the short grass adjacent to the water. Mick's a laid back dog but not to be fooled he's smart and as intense as they come when he finds scent. He won't leave an area if there's birds there and once on point won't move!
 I was really enjoying this unexpected time with Mick on such a beautiful fall morning. There were ducks moving around and geese flying over head as we walked. Mick worked along slowly about 40 feet ahead of me going in and around the edge of the grass when suddenly he turned to the west in short cover and froze! We hadn't been on the ground more than a few minutes about 150 yards from the Jeep. I looked at Mick and said 'Well what have we got Mick". I looked at the grass and then back again at Mick. This was the real deal! So I approached and a  big flush of 6 birds took flight simultaneously! 4 roosters and 2 hens! I picked out a bird and fired bringing down a nice rooster at 10 yards. What a surprise Mick!

Call it what you will, coincidence,luck,or karma, but Mick's magic is what I call it. Take an old dog for a walk and sometimes it just happens. A perfect moment you'll never forget. We continued on for quite a while walking easy cover and laying down in the grass together from time to time. I'd pull the bird out of the bag for Mick to smell along the way giving him a scratch behind the ears. It wasn't long then before Mick couldn't stay in front of me anymore as we headed for the Jeep together ever so slowly. But that was just fine as I had nothing better to do than give this dog my time for having given me so many incredible moments. Another "Walk with Mick" I'll never forget

.

Molly's Retirement

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         The passing of time catches up with us all eventually and we find ourselves no longer able to do what we used to and so it goes with bird dog's. Molly now has reached those days where she deserves to dream comfortably on the couch of all the birds and times we've had together.                           

She's been a tireless companion in the field exhibiting an exceptional drive and passion for finding birds for 10 year's. It's sad to observe her decline in stamina but at the same time I'm happy to have had so many great moments with her in the field crisscrossing the plains states in pursuit of quail, sharptail grouse,huns, and pheasants.With the most prey drive of my 3 Setter's she played an important role on the team pursuing and retrieving wounded birds. I can recall several long retrieves that just bring tears to my eyes as I look at her now knowing how hard this dog worked for me over the years.

                    I remember the day I picked her from the litter at 8 weeks old. She clamored around my feet with the other pups then headed off on her own. When I put down another pup the breeder had pointed out to me I noticed her off by herself parading around with a chew toy in her mouth independent of the pack. That caught my attention so I watched her as she proudly came around showing off her prize to the other pups. It was a hard decision I had to make after traveling 1100 miles cross country so I decided to sleep on it and come back the next morning. As I laid awake going over the pups in my mind I thought about Molly and my style of hunting. I like to cover ground and this pup would get lots of time in the field so I woke the next morning and headed back to view the litter one more time. As I came into the exercise area the pups were all milling about and my eyes naturally went to Molly again as she was a little larger had a beautiful head and was once again somewhat independent of the pack. The alpha female pup. In that moment my mind was made up. Molly was going home with me. I laugh as I think of that ride home. Molly protested very loudly having been separated from her mates and mother. The only thing that seemed to comfort  her was to lay in my lap as I drove! I soon learned what having an alpha female pup meant as she settled in to the household. She clearly asserted her independence as she surveyed the landscape around the farm. Smart as a whip and birdy right out of the box! Eager to please but again the queen in her was evident from the start.

 I couldn't believe the natural ability she displayed at an early age. In the above photo she was just 3 month's old and pointing quail around the farm. It wasn't long after that and we were shooting birds for her as well. She loved it all but I had to learn how to cope with her stubborn side. While eager to please she had her limits as to what she would tolerate from the older males Mick and Beau a few month's ahead of her and of course me. Obedience training was easy until she exerted her independent side. I quickly just learned that giving her a break and coming back later to the lesson worked with her otherwise there was no way she would give in to any pressure. Consequently house training took much longer than I ever thought it would. When I'm good and ready was her mantra I guess. Of course this meant she spent some time outdoors in the kennel until she was on board with the expectations and routines of the household.
                 
                    So like an old engine that still runs but over heats easily I carefully take her on runs in terrain she can easily handle. I'll do this as long as she wants to go as her reward for years of loyal and dedicated service in the field. At home she stakes out her spot and sleeps away most of the day now raising an eyebrow if I move or reach for my boots. I laugh every time she comes over to lobby when I put my boots on licking my face letting me know she's up for going along. In her younger years whenever the vehicle would stop when we were out in the field she'd be the first dog to start barking in the trailer as if to say "put me in coach!". The males are much more demanding of my attention but Molly just comes to me when she wants too and I give her my undivided attention for as long as she wants. Sometimes she'll lay on my chest for a while on the couch or at my feet while I'm drinking coffee in the morning. If I move to another room the males will follow immediately but Molly waits and then makes a grand entrance letting me know she's there wagging her tail as she comes to me.The picture at the top of the post was just taken a couple days ago. I had picked a beautiful rolling hill pasture to let her run in and as we looped back to the north towards the Jeep Molly came to a perfect point as she cast out ahead of me. Tail straight and right leg lifted with her nose to the wind. As I approached a covey of Huns screeched into the air. I missed the first bird and swung to my left on the second which fell with my shot. What a beautiful moment! I was so happy for Molly to have had that moment once again. So when I look at her now these are the things I think about and remember as we together enjoy the days of "Molly's Retirement".
                                         

Turning Points

                                              These are the days and times when instinctively we know there's no turning back. The days you know the undeniable and the inevitable have finally won the battle. Things change as a consequence. Of what? The answer is always the same whether it's bird populations, habitat,relationships,the economy or the best bird dog's you've ever owned. Time and it's passing.
                                               As I hunted all the likely places the setters and I have pursued sharptail grouse in the first few days of the season I became conscious of several turning points occurring simultaneously. The last few winters have not been favorable with harsh conditions for all the upland birds. These were followed by less than ideal spring weather the most recent spring being unusually cold and wet right during hatching. The result year to year declines in populations.
                                               Habitat has seen a major assault as hundreds of thousand of acres have transitioned out of CRP and back into production. A cycle that follows commodity prices but this one is driven by our federal ethanol policy and not likely to change any time soon. Maybe not even in my lifetime.
                                                We all share time with each other as our paths move along common ground bound by family,the process of growing up and friendships we develop along the way. But again as the ties that bind us mature and our interests evolve those paths begin to grow apart as well. Suddenly the distance and difference in priorities in our lives finds us out of touch leaving us focused on the past and no longer living together in the present.
                                                  I remarked to a friend recently that I enjoyed the simplicity of my living arrangements with the setters. A house that fits with a nice yard in a small rural area just minutes from getting my dogs on wild birds. I can get my arms around that I said. It's a good feeling. I like it. But the forces of the global economy while we can't control them have a tremendous bearing on our lives. Like dominoes once put in motion all follow suit. It's part of how I got here retiring earlier than expected but prepared for the contingency. Already having been living a simple life following my passion. While we can't control the global economy we can control our own in many ways through personal choice and lifestyle.

                                                   This is our eleventh season together and its been a great experience all eleven years. As I see the effects of time and long days in the field on my setters I have a tremendous respect for the drive and passion of these beautiful animals and all they have to share with us. An appreciation for the youth and playfulness of a new puppy and the promise it brings. I take them to the field now and just walk with them going at their pace in appropriate cover letting them once again put their noses to the wind. I owe them this as they've shared their best days with me and the remaining experiences will be all the richer for the bond we've shared as time continues marching on.
                                                   
                                                     So this convergence of "Turning Points" makes it blatantly obvious that life is meant for living. Right now. Today. The setters and I are so lucky to have shared a decade of unforgettable time together only because we took advantage of today. I put aside what many would have  allowed to get in the way and kept my eye on the prize. A dream. What makes me feel alive. What helps me make sense of what time is really meant for. Living.

Old Dogs

                                                  Any dog owner will tell you about their dogs knowing when its time to do this or that. With hunting dogs its changes in temperature that signals to them its time to once again head to the field. Experts describe this phenomenon as associative behavior. I would simply agree with everyone that dogs are experts at it!
                                                  Yesterday was no exception for my crew. We had a nice day noticeably cooler than recent days with no wind. As the afternoon came and went the setters came alive after the afternoon nap routine. Around 6:30 or so they all started in on me. By this I mean that ears up questioning look that means "well its nice and cool out lets get going!" Out numbered I gathered myself filling a water bucket and grabbing a whistle just in case someone got out of sight. I've struggled with my back the last several weeks and had just gone to the chiropractor so I've been using a small step stool for the setters to climb into the jeep. They're getting better at this routine but would prefer me helping them in of course but unfortunately those days have passed me by! Once loaded we headed out to a favorite spot that holds all 3 species of upland birds common in this area, pheasants,huns, and sharptail grouse.
                                                   With windows down feeling the cool evening breeze we were off. The setters were all heads up in anticipation as we left town. A few miles later we turned on a gravel road which they know means we're getting closer! A couple miles later I slow turning into a hay field parking the jeep. Before I can get out Mick who rides shotgun is pushing me to let him by while Beau and Molly wait anxiously for me to open the back door to let them out. It's a beautiful evening to be out for sure and I can see the alfalfa is just right for sharptail with their young broods. The adjacent pasture hasn't been grazed as it's a fall pasture and the section to the north is in sunflowers this year a high value food source for all the birds. This also means that they are probably all living in there and on the edges most of the time at this time of the year. This was just meant to be a casual walk anyway with Mick retired and Molly not far behind. Beau however has been covering ground lately like a dog much younger than his 10 and a half years.
                                                  I slowly walked into the pasture meaning to just make an arc and come back into the alfalfa giving everyone a chance to run a little. Mick seems to know his limitations and just moved about watching Beau casting ahead. Molly was off as well in a smaller pattern than Beau but actively trying to pick up scent which both she and Beau did working what I expect were some moving birds. This is a hilly area and Beau was quickly up and down the ridges to the back of my planned route. So I had to get sight of him again moving ahead. Before I realized it we had gone a bit farther than I wanted to go. I came upon Molly first on point. When I moved ahead the bird had run out obviously. Mick was behind a bit to my left watching. Then I spotted Beau on the other side of the fence into the alfalfa to the east working scent around a knoll. I lost sight of him in some tall grass then saw a hen pheasant bust wild from that spot with Beau then circling around our direction. I signaled with my hand to head back to the west and we walked a bit when both Molly and Mick stopped for a rest while Beau caught up to us. It was more than just a stop for Molly as she was stressed from over exertion. It happened quickly and I felt bad for getting her out to far. There was a cattle tank with water 150 yards to the south but she didn't want to move. So we just settled waiting as the sun was going down along with the temperature which was about 65 degrees. We had run into a few cockle burrs so I passed the time removing them from Molly. She wagged her tail seeming to know it was great to be out but she just needed time to catch her breath. Mick was content to relax of course as he has a much more laid back nature but I had to remind Beau to remain seated as he wanted to continue looking for birds.
                                                 After a good 20 minutes Molly was catching up so I headed for the fence line 50 yards away where we would follow the alfalfa back to the jeep a half mile. Beau immediately started casting wide into the alfalfa like a much younger dog with Molly and Mick on heel at my side. I stopped occasionally to make sure Molly was OK. Then as Beau circled towards us he became birdy at the edge of a depression in the alfalfa. I expected this may be sharptail and sure enough a few seconds later he was rigid on point facing Mick Molly and myself 50 yards to the north. Both Mick and Molly came alive and headed towards Beau along with myself. In short order I once again had all 3 setters on point! As I walked up to Beau. I got within a few feet of him when the first sharptail burst forth. Then as tradition goes the rest of the covey started rising in a delayed format one by one. It was a beautiful sight as they all chuckled away with the sun now setting. Just like old times I laughed to myself. I remembered how many times I had been tricked into firing both shots at the first bird then standing with an empty gun as several more birds flushed!
                                              I congratulated Beau and gave kudos to Mick and Molly for honoring the point as they milled about taking in the scent of the birds. We lingered for a few moments just taking it in then headed the remaining quarter mile to the jeep. I was hoping to not run into any more birds on the way wanting to get Molly back to the jeep. That was the case as we arrived a few moments later in single file. We remained there for another 15 minutes as the setters drank their fill and I ran water on their bellies to cool them down before loading them up. A coyote called out from across the road in the adjacent hills letting us know we were on his turf once again. It was a beautiful sunset. Quiet. An experience and a moment shared once again between "Old Dogs".

The In Between Days

                                          These are the days from the end of the last season until the beginning of the next. What do you do I'm asked. Well the answer is as everyone does wherever you are and that's enjoy those things that make up your life experiences.
                                           Living with the Setters on a day to day basis is a great joy. Attending to their needs and living as a pack fills every day. We go every where together. Yes that includes the post office and the grocery store although short trips we're a unit you see. Weather permitting we walk sometimes twice a day together then I go on my solo bike ride around the outskirts of town. In a way maybe I'm making up for time lost with previous hunting companions during busier days.
                                           I like to ski in the winter which requires a trip back to that country. Reading books from cover to cover. Then the past two years I've taken up hybridizing day lily's which means starting seeds indoors come the end of February. It's been a great past time throughout the spring and summer as we wait once again for the days we can spend together in the field. An interest in beautiful flowers is a good companion interest to beautiful bird dog's I decided.
                                           This small town life is unique in many ways and you have to appreciate it's advantages. The simplicity and community spirit are what keep the people who call this place home living here generation after generation. However as years go by the values and traditions of the second generation  now approaching their eighties fade a little with the passing of time. These are the folks that grew up during the "Dirty Thirties"surviving on what they could garner from the harsh prairie acres of their homesteads. The third generation families who now operate the family farms and ranches are struggling in many ways with parents across the country who try to give their kids what they didn't or struggled to have growing up. This focus on material things in a technological age is evident in the behavior and attitude of the fourth generation young people. Everything is made easy for them. There is no lack of money. Their entitlement to everything life has to offer they believe is their inherent right. They are for the most part good kids but I'm afraid are being done a disservice by not being held more accountable. Grandparents shake their heads and wonder what will become of them and their children with everything so easy. They expect so much should be given to them they say when they themselves worked so hard for so little but were happy individually and as a family often times with 8 to 10 siblings. "Our life in the early days was hard but it was a good life".
                                            While I didn't come here to raise a family I did come here to enjoy the advantages of being in bird country with my Setters. And we have had many beautiful moments in the field together. Priceless moments. Days you only have by being here. Everyday. However the noise and the culture of the third generation now running the town leaves me thinking of my next destination. I love the sounds of the town but as litter is a visual assault on the senses the noise from straight pipe illegal exhaust systems and squealing tires is audible litter or trash to my ears. Yes trash! I don't like it. But in these in between days it's become more and more evident. You see the kids are entitled to this behavior it seems. God forbid the kids be denied! While I am no stranger to life in rural areas having grown up in a small town and worked in many agricultural markets my whole career this disturbs me. So it seems specific to this particular area.
                                              When discussing some current national events with my neighbors over the fence the other day I remarked that it was my goal in my remaining years to live where I was shielded from such nonsense. Now there are days by my definition I'm not sure I'm there!

Back To The Beginning

                                        From time to time I'm asked about where I got my Setters and why I chose that particular breeder. I've touched on this in previous posts but I'll summarize in case anyone is interested.
                                        I had grown up with a beautiful Irish Setter named Shadow down the street in the little town I lived in. He was a big rangy dog with a large blocky head. A classic field bred Setter. We all loved him and still tell stories of his antics around the neighborhood. Later on I was to have my own Irish Setter we named Shan. Unfortunately we had to give that dog up due to epileptic seizures. Then many year's later living in southwestern Wisconsin I came into contact with some Ryman type Setters that friends had. I admired these dog's as they had the same classic Setter looks of that dog down the street I had known as a kid.
                                        In the years that followed I had Brittany Spaniels then went through many great years with German Shorthairs. When it came time to decide on my next hunting partner my mind was led back to those images of the Setters I had known. So the research began. I always need lots of input to make a decision so I started reading about the history of Setters. I was led to the classic lines of the Ryman Hemlock dogs as they fit the image, conformation and temperament of what I had in mind. Via the internet I was able to view breeders pedigrees across the country. There was one breeder that kept showing up in lines used by breeders of this type of Setter. I then decided to contact that breeder and discuss my objectives. After checking references and talking some more I had a gut feeling this was going to be my choice of who to deal with.
                                        I always have to get to a point of trust on any decision and this is how I describe why I made my choice of who to deal with. A breeder who is a dedicated Setter man and avid bird hunter. Someone who had over 40 year's of experience with the type of dog's I was interested in. He talked with a quiet confidence never selling just stating facts. I talked with a lot of people some who ran down others lines and were critical of other aspects of a breeders operations. You have to sort through all of that understanding everyone is going to think they have the best operations naturally. Then you make a decision which I did. It involved a 2000 mile round trip to view and select the dog's but these were to be my hunting partners and companions for year's to come. One of my life's most important decisions is exactly how I treated the choices before me.
                                        Three dog's later from the same lines I had a team of beautiful Setters that have taught me more than I ever thought I knew in a life time of owning bird dogs. I only wish I would have met these dogs at an earlier point in life but actually I probably wasn't ready yet. It takes a wealth of patience, humility and time to properly care for these beautiful and gentle creatures that have so much to share with you.
                                         This fall will mark eleven seasons together. We're a little slower now but spend every day together. A priceless experience in itself. I've even adapted to sleeping away afternoons with them! I'll shoot some video and take more pictures this year knowing our time together is getting shorter. That decision I made originally was right on the mark. What a decade it's been!