Preparation for my tenth season with the Setters is finally underway. The mild spring and warm temperatures caused the birds to nest earlier and as a result the chicks are now excellent fliers. And with most hay fields cut I can safely run the Setters without disturbing any late nesting birds.
We have been getting out either late in the evening or an hour or so after sun up. Right now a 30 minute workout is sufficient and if the weather is cooler I'll run the pups both morning and evening. It's been great to finally get back out there and while I choose areas likely to not hold birds we usually find some on every run. Exercise is the main objective for the first few weeks then by mid August we'll be seriously scouting to locate broods of Sharptail for the September opening.
So far everybody's manners are still in tact with all three pups honoring points nicely with the occasional encroachment by Mick. This is nothing new and every preseason I reinforce the rules with him and basic commands with them all. I give a whistle blast and hand signals to change direction and just a hand signal if they are in my line of sight. Two blasts on the whistle to come all the way in along with my hand pointing to the ground. Again if they are in the line of sight I can get them in by using the hand signal. It's very basic as they are all used to how we work together. They naturally cast about and work back around to me eventually so with the use of Garmin Tracking collars I eliminate any apprehension about their location if out of sight.
The landscape is ever changing and this year is no exception. Less CRP and more corn once again fueled by rising commodity prices. This will mean a challenge for the early season Pheasant hunters once again. More crops unharvested during the first part of the season will mean less acres for them to hunt with what will be lower bird populations again this year I expect. For the Sharptail hunter not much will change as farm and ranch country is filled with enough pasture and rolling hills to provide ample cover to hunt these birds. If you're willing to play the game that is! You can walk miles before you find which hill they're setting behind and if you're lucky then get close enough for a shot.
I've been enjoying meals of both Pheasant and Sharptail the last several weeks working on using up last year's bounty. Cooked properly which is medium rare both are delicious but I'm partial to the Sharptail with a little A-1 steak sauce. Wow is that living I say to myself!
All the pups are healthy at this writing as the days count down to the start of another dream season. I had a scare with Beau in June as the leg he had a cancerous tumor removed from became swollen when we were in Wisconsin. Within 48 hours the swelling abated and now the leg shows no signs of any issues. I suspect a spider bite possibly. He's my favorite dog to watch work Sharptail as he ranges quite wide and stops on a dime never pushing birds. Just a beautiful sight to see. Molly carries a little more weight during the off season than I'd like but it comes off very quickly. She's been excited to get back out in the field and is like a time keeper nuzzling my arm when she knows it's time to head out to run. Mick as I've written about previously has slowed a bit but is his same thorough and methodical self. It's a joy to watch him use his wisdom and read a birds movements. I'll run him solo most of the time from here on out once the season begins.
As I contemplate objectives for the season I think about savoring our time like a fine wine. Maybe slowing up a bit between runs. Carrying a collapsible camp chair with us. A thermos of coffee. Maybe a bottle of whiskey or a six pack of beer. I remember bringing home three puppies that all eventually ended up in my lap as I drove home. Now all of a sudden we're in our tenth season together. I want it to last forever. I want to always remember every moment. But we'll take it one day one run at a time till we can't walk anymore knowing how special our time was together. Knowing we had it all.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Strategies For Success
No matter what the pursuit on public lands you choose it's always a challenge to deal with all the other sportsman out there fishing or hunting. Everyone's trying to enjoy they're sport often times pursuing the same species in very different ways. I prefer to hunt alone behind my 3 setters and find running into group hunters in an area a claustrophobic feeling at best.
In a phone conversation with my son Jared recently he related an experience while fly fishing in the Mt Shasta area of northern CA. He was on a solo trip and upon arriving at the river he had chosen noticed other fisherman fishing primarily within a half mile of the camp site. We talked about how this was a common occurrence with most people not venturing far from the access point. He decided given the situation to hike upstream beyond the average distance most fisherman covered by a couple miles. What he then enjoyed was an all day experience of fishing the river to himself while seeing only one other person returning to camp at 7:00 o'clock in the evening. He was rewarded for his efforts catching numerous trout throughout the day enjoying the solitude of the landscape around him.
I related to his strategy in that the same issue exists bird hunting on public access land. Most hunters are what I call drive by hunters in that they're decision on where to hunt is most of the time based on how closely they can access the cover. With the rural areas crisscrossed with section line roads every mile for the most part this means it's very easy for hunters not wishing to walk long distances to pursue game in this fashion. So I then avoid these easy access acres and concentrate on the less obvious pockets of cover you can only access by walking greater distances than the average hunter will go to hunt. You are sometimes rewarded and sometimes not but because I'm not trying to fill a limit for a group of what often times is 4,6,8 or more hunters I'm happy just to find a bird for my dog's to work. A several mile walk for one point with all my dog's lined out on the prairie tails up and noses into the wind is priceless to me and worth every step. The objective of the group hunters is to shoot and kill birds then jump in their trucks and hurry on to the next spot to do it all over again. We pursue the same species but with very different objectives and appreciation for the sport.
This discussion with my son brought to mind an analogy I had just been thinking about before he called as I contemplated the upcoming season which unfortunately I believe will be bleak due to the loss of millions of CRP acres across the western states.
If you at random selected a group of people to walk through an art museum filled with the works of the worlds masters then recorded their observations you would get very different results. Based on our life experiences we all have a different vision of the world. So when looking at the same masterpieces some might notice the brush strokes,colors,shadows or talk about how it makes them feel while others may just say "nice picture" or "why would you paint that?" or just walk briskly through unable to relate at all to what the artists had created. And so it is I maintain with sportsman. We can all pursue the same game species in the same environment but on very different levels and appreciation of the experience.
The challenge posed to us all then is how to maximize how we as individual sportsmen enjoy the sport while sharing the same public access acres. The answer is there if you look for it but takes some time and effort to discover. And I will tell you the best laid plans can be thwarted by those that don't have common sense or respect for others. While I have numerous examples of this it's not a common occurrence thankfully. I will share just one that comes to mind that actually made me laugh and think you can't fix stupid!
I was hunting a very large pasture in a waterfowl production area that I had never seen anyone hunt. I had all three Setters on the ground casting about in search of the Sharptail Grouse I knew used this area. The Setters were birdy and I turned to look behind me as I saw a truck coming down the rarely used section line road and the driver stopped a ways past where I had parked then got out watching the Setters as they worked these birds. I heard the truck start up and the door slam shut as I watched the covey of 20 or so birds then flush wild startled by the noise. Dumbass!
My strategy is as I've said for the most part to get where you can't easily access cover which can be in itself hard to find followed by hunting late season and in weather most hunters will not venture out in when the cold and snow hits. The lower populations and loss of cover actually benefits a hunter like myself as the hunt then is suited to dog's that can cover a lot of ground looking for what birds there may be. The lower populations also mean the group hunters will find it impossible to shoot limits and may even find themselves skunked on days walking the same cover they may have been very successful hunting in the past. Those days are gone forever I'm afraid. Game farms and hunt clubs will be the only place for that type of experience.
I believe however we are a long ways from the individual sportsman who's still willing to work hard and practice "Fair Chase" hunting and "Catch and Release"fishing to not be able to have a great day in the field on public access ground and water. Basically to be successful on public access land you have to think like the average sportsman and then do the opposite. Get in shape. Scout ahead of time on your feet not on your seat. Go solo. Save playing army for the hunt club. Get up earlier and then hunt and fish longer and harder.
In a phone conversation with my son Jared recently he related an experience while fly fishing in the Mt Shasta area of northern CA. He was on a solo trip and upon arriving at the river he had chosen noticed other fisherman fishing primarily within a half mile of the camp site. We talked about how this was a common occurrence with most people not venturing far from the access point. He decided given the situation to hike upstream beyond the average distance most fisherman covered by a couple miles. What he then enjoyed was an all day experience of fishing the river to himself while seeing only one other person returning to camp at 7:00 o'clock in the evening. He was rewarded for his efforts catching numerous trout throughout the day enjoying the solitude of the landscape around him.
I related to his strategy in that the same issue exists bird hunting on public access land. Most hunters are what I call drive by hunters in that they're decision on where to hunt is most of the time based on how closely they can access the cover. With the rural areas crisscrossed with section line roads every mile for the most part this means it's very easy for hunters not wishing to walk long distances to pursue game in this fashion. So I then avoid these easy access acres and concentrate on the less obvious pockets of cover you can only access by walking greater distances than the average hunter will go to hunt. You are sometimes rewarded and sometimes not but because I'm not trying to fill a limit for a group of what often times is 4,6,8 or more hunters I'm happy just to find a bird for my dog's to work. A several mile walk for one point with all my dog's lined out on the prairie tails up and noses into the wind is priceless to me and worth every step. The objective of the group hunters is to shoot and kill birds then jump in their trucks and hurry on to the next spot to do it all over again. We pursue the same species but with very different objectives and appreciation for the sport.
This discussion with my son brought to mind an analogy I had just been thinking about before he called as I contemplated the upcoming season which unfortunately I believe will be bleak due to the loss of millions of CRP acres across the western states.
If you at random selected a group of people to walk through an art museum filled with the works of the worlds masters then recorded their observations you would get very different results. Based on our life experiences we all have a different vision of the world. So when looking at the same masterpieces some might notice the brush strokes,colors,shadows or talk about how it makes them feel while others may just say "nice picture" or "why would you paint that?" or just walk briskly through unable to relate at all to what the artists had created. And so it is I maintain with sportsman. We can all pursue the same game species in the same environment but on very different levels and appreciation of the experience.
The challenge posed to us all then is how to maximize how we as individual sportsmen enjoy the sport while sharing the same public access acres. The answer is there if you look for it but takes some time and effort to discover. And I will tell you the best laid plans can be thwarted by those that don't have common sense or respect for others. While I have numerous examples of this it's not a common occurrence thankfully. I will share just one that comes to mind that actually made me laugh and think you can't fix stupid!
I was hunting a very large pasture in a waterfowl production area that I had never seen anyone hunt. I had all three Setters on the ground casting about in search of the Sharptail Grouse I knew used this area. The Setters were birdy and I turned to look behind me as I saw a truck coming down the rarely used section line road and the driver stopped a ways past where I had parked then got out watching the Setters as they worked these birds. I heard the truck start up and the door slam shut as I watched the covey of 20 or so birds then flush wild startled by the noise. Dumbass!
My strategy is as I've said for the most part to get where you can't easily access cover which can be in itself hard to find followed by hunting late season and in weather most hunters will not venture out in when the cold and snow hits. The lower populations and loss of cover actually benefits a hunter like myself as the hunt then is suited to dog's that can cover a lot of ground looking for what birds there may be. The lower populations also mean the group hunters will find it impossible to shoot limits and may even find themselves skunked on days walking the same cover they may have been very successful hunting in the past. Those days are gone forever I'm afraid. Game farms and hunt clubs will be the only place for that type of experience.
I believe however we are a long ways from the individual sportsman who's still willing to work hard and practice "Fair Chase" hunting and "Catch and Release"fishing to not be able to have a great day in the field on public access ground and water. Basically to be successful on public access land you have to think like the average sportsman and then do the opposite. Get in shape. Scout ahead of time on your feet not on your seat. Go solo. Save playing army for the hunt club. Get up earlier and then hunt and fish longer and harder.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
The Cooler
In the 2003 movie "The Cooler" William H Macy plays a worn out ex gambler named Bernie Lootz whose chronic bad luck got him a job as a "Cooler" at a Las Vegas casino. His job was to stand at tables next to lucky gamblers inevitably casting a dark cloud on their luck. During the season of 2006 I experienced a dreaded stretch of poor shooting seemingly unexplained except for the Sharptail grouse that taunted me and shook my confidence to my very soul. I had finally met my "Cooler."
We would all experience failures shooting at one time or another laughing at being outsmarted by the birds. It's most amusing of course when it's happening to your hunting partner and not you! As we'd share the stories of each run listening to the instances of bad luck you find it hard to imagine it happening to you. You listen and laugh but when whoever it is obviously has lost their mojo and can't hit the broad side of a barn you avoid them like someone with a bad cold. Well maybe not consciously but you still think "don't get to close" for fear they might be contagious!
I was hunting 10 miles south on this morning with bright sunshine and mild winds. It was the third week of October and by mid week we had done fairly well shooting mixed bags of Pheasant and Sharptail most day's. This trip Tom,Phil, and myself had traveled together in one vehicle most days dropping each other off to hunt solo behind our dog's. I had been struggling with my shooting at times on this trip but the dog's made up for it by relentlessly finding more birds for me to shoot at.
We started this days run around some wheat stubble with tree rows dividing it. I put Mick on the ground for this run and we began walking the tree rows with Mick working the edges casting about the wheat stubble trying to pick up scent. The birds are notorious for running within this cover of course and pinning down a wily rooster here is no easy task. Finally at the north end of the run Mick had locked up pointing into the tree row with tall grass and brush about 10 feet wide. I approached from about 60 yards behind him at this point and cautiously walked past him pausing to look ahead into the cover for a shooting lane. As I proceeded into the cover a bird flushed. Expecting a pheasant I was caught off guard as a Sharptail rose slowly in full profile seemingly looking at me as if to say " Here I am catch me if you can". As I recall the bird looked rather odd maybe a little smaller and chuckled as it rose again a little unusual. Most of the time the Sharptail chuckle after taking flight a ways. Well I looked to long and obviously didn't look where I was shooting because both shots missed with the bird just casually flying away.
This came after walking up and down tree rows a half mile long. It was a nice point well earned by Mick but again squandered by my poor shooting which was beginning to wear on me. We continued our run to the west of this area along some corn stubble bordering 80 acres of CRP grass. Within a couple hundred yards Mick became birdy once again working a bird along this edge. As we crested a hill in the field I saw Mick abruptly turn and freeze right on the edge where the corn stubble and the grass met pointing to the south. I quickened my pace covering the 75 yards in short order uphill hoping to redeem myself and break out of the funk I felt myself sinking into. The bird held as I made my final approach with Mick rock solid. Then the bird burst from the cover straight ahead twenty yards. A Sharptail. The same slow rise and chuckle. The same look in the eye. I was mesmerized and again looked to long, lost my focus and missed. For all I know my gun could have been pointing straight into the air!
Now I was obviously shaken. Something was seriously wrong. This bird which had to be the same bird I had just been made a fool by minutes before had now done it again. There was just something about it that caused me to freeze up and loose my concentration. I'm afraid I had met my "Cooler".
Mick and I proceeded to work west along this edge and shortly Mick was into a stalk on a moving bird that took us all the way to the end a quarter mile moving in and out of the grass. This was most certainly a pheasant and sure enough as we crossed into the next field of corn stubble adjacent to the CRP Mick worked right towards a rock pile 40 feet off the west edge of the grass. My confidence having been seriously shaken I ran through my mind the chances I had of figuring out how to outsmart a rooster that knew which side we were approaching from. Slim was my answer. Mick worked around the west edge of the rock pile cautiously. I then lost sight of him as I was approaching from the east and didn't see him come all the way around so he must be on point on the south west side. My decision was to approach from the south east hoping to get the bird pinned between Mick and myself. As I came around the south end of the rock pile there was Mick pointing just around the corner at the pile. With one more step being about ten feet from Mick a rooster flushed behind me and to the right careening towards the CRP to the east. The rooster was very close as it flew by and I shot quickly. A miss.Then I swung through missing again!.
This had been a difficult run for me but a superb performance by Mick and I made sure he knew I appreciated it. By now I knew I had it. The dreaded curse. Like a golfer that has lost his swing I had lost my ability to shoot. But we pressed on the plan being to walk the CRP to the east ending where we started the run.
We were a little more than half way through the grass with Mick pointing a couple hens when he locked up on a slight rise. I walked cautiously up to him with nothing flushing when suddenly behind me a bird took flight. As I turned around I saw the 'Cooler" yet again taking flight in the same slow manner looking me right in the eye chuckling as he casually flew away after I shot at him twice missing of course! All kinds of thoughts ran through my mind. What did I do to deserve this? What was it about this bird that had me so shook up? Was it the slow rise? The look in the eye? And that chuckle. Was he really laughing at me?
I knew when I related this story to Tom and Phil it would be my turn to wear the dunce hat and for how long was anyone's guess. The week wore on with some improvement and through sheer determination and an excellent job by the Setters I managed to put some birds in the bag but admit it wasn't pretty at times. During that week I had to go back once more just to try to redeem myself and prove the phenomenon of the "Cooler" didn't exist only to have been beat once again by what I'm sure was the same bird. I had never seen a Sharptail quite like this one. That was enough. I never made that run again that season wanting to stay far away from the "Cooler".
The next year the Setters and I made that run and right as we crested that same hill I walked with Mick the previous season a Sharptail flushed wild in exactly the same way as the "Cooler". I watched as it looked in my direction never raising my gun as it floated south with the wind chuckling as it went." We've got a deal " I laughed to myself.
We would all experience failures shooting at one time or another laughing at being outsmarted by the birds. It's most amusing of course when it's happening to your hunting partner and not you! As we'd share the stories of each run listening to the instances of bad luck you find it hard to imagine it happening to you. You listen and laugh but when whoever it is obviously has lost their mojo and can't hit the broad side of a barn you avoid them like someone with a bad cold. Well maybe not consciously but you still think "don't get to close" for fear they might be contagious!
I was hunting 10 miles south on this morning with bright sunshine and mild winds. It was the third week of October and by mid week we had done fairly well shooting mixed bags of Pheasant and Sharptail most day's. This trip Tom,Phil, and myself had traveled together in one vehicle most days dropping each other off to hunt solo behind our dog's. I had been struggling with my shooting at times on this trip but the dog's made up for it by relentlessly finding more birds for me to shoot at.
We started this days run around some wheat stubble with tree rows dividing it. I put Mick on the ground for this run and we began walking the tree rows with Mick working the edges casting about the wheat stubble trying to pick up scent. The birds are notorious for running within this cover of course and pinning down a wily rooster here is no easy task. Finally at the north end of the run Mick had locked up pointing into the tree row with tall grass and brush about 10 feet wide. I approached from about 60 yards behind him at this point and cautiously walked past him pausing to look ahead into the cover for a shooting lane. As I proceeded into the cover a bird flushed. Expecting a pheasant I was caught off guard as a Sharptail rose slowly in full profile seemingly looking at me as if to say " Here I am catch me if you can". As I recall the bird looked rather odd maybe a little smaller and chuckled as it rose again a little unusual. Most of the time the Sharptail chuckle after taking flight a ways. Well I looked to long and obviously didn't look where I was shooting because both shots missed with the bird just casually flying away.
This came after walking up and down tree rows a half mile long. It was a nice point well earned by Mick but again squandered by my poor shooting which was beginning to wear on me. We continued our run to the west of this area along some corn stubble bordering 80 acres of CRP grass. Within a couple hundred yards Mick became birdy once again working a bird along this edge. As we crested a hill in the field I saw Mick abruptly turn and freeze right on the edge where the corn stubble and the grass met pointing to the south. I quickened my pace covering the 75 yards in short order uphill hoping to redeem myself and break out of the funk I felt myself sinking into. The bird held as I made my final approach with Mick rock solid. Then the bird burst from the cover straight ahead twenty yards. A Sharptail. The same slow rise and chuckle. The same look in the eye. I was mesmerized and again looked to long, lost my focus and missed. For all I know my gun could have been pointing straight into the air!
Now I was obviously shaken. Something was seriously wrong. This bird which had to be the same bird I had just been made a fool by minutes before had now done it again. There was just something about it that caused me to freeze up and loose my concentration. I'm afraid I had met my "Cooler".
Mick and I proceeded to work west along this edge and shortly Mick was into a stalk on a moving bird that took us all the way to the end a quarter mile moving in and out of the grass. This was most certainly a pheasant and sure enough as we crossed into the next field of corn stubble adjacent to the CRP Mick worked right towards a rock pile 40 feet off the west edge of the grass. My confidence having been seriously shaken I ran through my mind the chances I had of figuring out how to outsmart a rooster that knew which side we were approaching from. Slim was my answer. Mick worked around the west edge of the rock pile cautiously. I then lost sight of him as I was approaching from the east and didn't see him come all the way around so he must be on point on the south west side. My decision was to approach from the south east hoping to get the bird pinned between Mick and myself. As I came around the south end of the rock pile there was Mick pointing just around the corner at the pile. With one more step being about ten feet from Mick a rooster flushed behind me and to the right careening towards the CRP to the east. The rooster was very close as it flew by and I shot quickly. A miss.Then I swung through missing again!.
This had been a difficult run for me but a superb performance by Mick and I made sure he knew I appreciated it. By now I knew I had it. The dreaded curse. Like a golfer that has lost his swing I had lost my ability to shoot. But we pressed on the plan being to walk the CRP to the east ending where we started the run.
We were a little more than half way through the grass with Mick pointing a couple hens when he locked up on a slight rise. I walked cautiously up to him with nothing flushing when suddenly behind me a bird took flight. As I turned around I saw the 'Cooler" yet again taking flight in the same slow manner looking me right in the eye chuckling as he casually flew away after I shot at him twice missing of course! All kinds of thoughts ran through my mind. What did I do to deserve this? What was it about this bird that had me so shook up? Was it the slow rise? The look in the eye? And that chuckle. Was he really laughing at me?
I knew when I related this story to Tom and Phil it would be my turn to wear the dunce hat and for how long was anyone's guess. The week wore on with some improvement and through sheer determination and an excellent job by the Setters I managed to put some birds in the bag but admit it wasn't pretty at times. During that week I had to go back once more just to try to redeem myself and prove the phenomenon of the "Cooler" didn't exist only to have been beat once again by what I'm sure was the same bird. I had never seen a Sharptail quite like this one. That was enough. I never made that run again that season wanting to stay far away from the "Cooler".
The next year the Setters and I made that run and right as we crested that same hill I walked with Mick the previous season a Sharptail flushed wild in exactly the same way as the "Cooler". I watched as it looked in my direction never raising my gun as it floated south with the wind chuckling as it went." We've got a deal " I laughed to myself.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Rescue Me!
Looking over my journal notes from the season of 2011 there were lots of days and runs worthy of not forgetting. Sometimes things happen as planned but more than not each day has it's surprises it seems in one way or another. Being able to find the humor and or slowing down to appreciate the moments seems to always help make the day.
It was late November and the Setter's and I were hunting down along the South Dakota border one morning. I had decided to run all 3 pup's in this large area with diverse terrain. They had hunted well together here before so I unleashed the hounds once again. It was cold with a light layer of ice covering the sloughs along with a dusting of snow.
We had gone about two hundred yards when all 3 dog's were birdy along a slough bordered by sunflower stubble. As they worked to the west along a tree line I lost sight of them and upon checking my Garmin Beau had gone south along the tree line. Molly had gone northwest along the slough and I didn't have time to check for Mick as I came within sight of Beau pointing along the field edge. Before I headed for Beau I also caught sight of Molly pointing as well but being farther away decided to head for Beau first. I got within 50 yards of Beau and his birds flushed wild. After getting him turned back around we headed towards Molly who was patiently still holding now 150 yards away. I got halfway to her and her birds bolted as well. Gosh darn it. A group of 4 Roosters no less!
My boots had not been on the ground for more than twenty minutes at this point. Now where was Mick? I pulled out my Garmin again and he was 75 yards east on point! This would be right in the slough as I walked back that direction and with the ice being very thin I tried to spot him first without walking out to far for fear of falling through. Well I got within 35 yards and kept trying to spot him but couldn't. So I checked the location again and headed in a direct line breaking through the ice and walking in the water now almost over my boots. That's the point that I finally spotted Mick. Not on point but totally immersed in the water having broken through! He was holding himself up with his front paws on the ice waiting for me to rescue him. I walked ahead with the water getting deeper as I went breaking the ice as I moved forward. By the time I reached Mick I was up to my crotch in the cold icy water. Grabbing him with one hand by the collar I tried to hoist him out but the ice just kept breaking. Of course the other two dog's interested in what the hell was going on had also ventured out onto the ice but luckily hadn't fallen through. I gave them the whoa command once I realized they had followed. Walking and pulling Mick at the same time I was able to get him out far enough for him to walk on his own again after about 50 feet in the deep water. I hope he appreciated it! I'm not sure if left on his own whether or not he would have made it out. Another reason to use the Garmin tracking collars!
With a whole day of hunting ahead of us I was now wet up to my waist. We had gotten into birds right away but had nothing to show for it. I decided to tough it out and directed the pup's to circle around to the north to hunt some CRP. On the way Molly had a nice point on a single Rooster no doubt an earlier missed opportunity which I missed again. Twice!
We walked on another quarter mile to the grass with the Setter's fanning out and working into the wind as we headed west. They worked the ground beautifully with birds moving ahead and I was able to watch as the field had a gentle rise to it. After circling about with all of them trying to corner these birds I finally had Beau pointing in the lead 100 yards to the west. Molly and Mick upon seeing Beau also were locked up 25 and 50 yards to the north of him. Honoring his point. A really pretty sight. I just kept hoping the birds would hold as I made my way as quickly as I could. Within range finally I slowed and walked the rest of the way cautiously towards Beau. Pointing with head high into the wind I walked past him 20 feet. Then the most beautiful double flush I think I ever saw occurred with two Roosters taking flight rising in full profile one slightly before the other allowing me time to focus on the first before taking sight on the second. But it wasn't to be. Not on this day. When I squeezed the trigger the only sound that was heard was that of the cackling and beating of wings as the birds escaped to the west. I had forgotten to reload on the last flush!
What a beautiful moment. Although squandered it was such a sight to see and I had to laugh at myself. But I made sure to give kudos to the pup's and we continued on with two more nice points on Rooster's I was able to put in the bag. One which was a really nice job by all 3 Setter's in the open pasture grass. My pants and boots were also dry by the time we reached the Jeep. No harm done! I was now ready to head for a little town nearby with a cafe where I knew I could get a piece of homemade pie or two before we headed to our next run.
It was late November and the Setter's and I were hunting down along the South Dakota border one morning. I had decided to run all 3 pup's in this large area with diverse terrain. They had hunted well together here before so I unleashed the hounds once again. It was cold with a light layer of ice covering the sloughs along with a dusting of snow.
We had gone about two hundred yards when all 3 dog's were birdy along a slough bordered by sunflower stubble. As they worked to the west along a tree line I lost sight of them and upon checking my Garmin Beau had gone south along the tree line. Molly had gone northwest along the slough and I didn't have time to check for Mick as I came within sight of Beau pointing along the field edge. Before I headed for Beau I also caught sight of Molly pointing as well but being farther away decided to head for Beau first. I got within 50 yards of Beau and his birds flushed wild. After getting him turned back around we headed towards Molly who was patiently still holding now 150 yards away. I got halfway to her and her birds bolted as well. Gosh darn it. A group of 4 Roosters no less!
My boots had not been on the ground for more than twenty minutes at this point. Now where was Mick? I pulled out my Garmin again and he was 75 yards east on point! This would be right in the slough as I walked back that direction and with the ice being very thin I tried to spot him first without walking out to far for fear of falling through. Well I got within 35 yards and kept trying to spot him but couldn't. So I checked the location again and headed in a direct line breaking through the ice and walking in the water now almost over my boots. That's the point that I finally spotted Mick. Not on point but totally immersed in the water having broken through! He was holding himself up with his front paws on the ice waiting for me to rescue him. I walked ahead with the water getting deeper as I went breaking the ice as I moved forward. By the time I reached Mick I was up to my crotch in the cold icy water. Grabbing him with one hand by the collar I tried to hoist him out but the ice just kept breaking. Of course the other two dog's interested in what the hell was going on had also ventured out onto the ice but luckily hadn't fallen through. I gave them the whoa command once I realized they had followed. Walking and pulling Mick at the same time I was able to get him out far enough for him to walk on his own again after about 50 feet in the deep water. I hope he appreciated it! I'm not sure if left on his own whether or not he would have made it out. Another reason to use the Garmin tracking collars!
With a whole day of hunting ahead of us I was now wet up to my waist. We had gotten into birds right away but had nothing to show for it. I decided to tough it out and directed the pup's to circle around to the north to hunt some CRP. On the way Molly had a nice point on a single Rooster no doubt an earlier missed opportunity which I missed again. Twice!
We walked on another quarter mile to the grass with the Setter's fanning out and working into the wind as we headed west. They worked the ground beautifully with birds moving ahead and I was able to watch as the field had a gentle rise to it. After circling about with all of them trying to corner these birds I finally had Beau pointing in the lead 100 yards to the west. Molly and Mick upon seeing Beau also were locked up 25 and 50 yards to the north of him. Honoring his point. A really pretty sight. I just kept hoping the birds would hold as I made my way as quickly as I could. Within range finally I slowed and walked the rest of the way cautiously towards Beau. Pointing with head high into the wind I walked past him 20 feet. Then the most beautiful double flush I think I ever saw occurred with two Roosters taking flight rising in full profile one slightly before the other allowing me time to focus on the first before taking sight on the second. But it wasn't to be. Not on this day. When I squeezed the trigger the only sound that was heard was that of the cackling and beating of wings as the birds escaped to the west. I had forgotten to reload on the last flush!
What a beautiful moment. Although squandered it was such a sight to see and I had to laugh at myself. But I made sure to give kudos to the pup's and we continued on with two more nice points on Rooster's I was able to put in the bag. One which was a really nice job by all 3 Setter's in the open pasture grass. My pants and boots were also dry by the time we reached the Jeep. No harm done! I was now ready to head for a little town nearby with a cafe where I knew I could get a piece of homemade pie or two before we headed to our next run.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
The Beer Drinkers
It was August of 2010 and the Setters and I had just finished an evening run scouting for birds when we drove by an old farmstead. I had hunted an area across the road from this place for a few years but had never seen anyone around. The cover we hunted was 320 acres of rolling CRP which held both Pheasants and Sharptail. We'd even see an occasional covey of Huns in this area as well. It was a favorite place for the Setters and I as it always held birds. Big and open with plenty of room for them to run and surf the wind. It was often tough to pin down birds in such a large area but the challenge is what made it so exciting. Seeing the dog's come to a point on birds after a long stalk here was priceless.
As I drove by I noticed two vehicles parked in front of the farmhouse and decided to turn around and find out who owned this place. Over the years of hunting around here I had admired this set up and wondered about buying it. I parked in the driveway and got out walking towards the house. The first thing that caught my eye was the Wisconsin license plates on the trucks. Then a guy came out of the house with a beer in his hand as I approached. I said hello and introduced myself to Don a Wisconsin native who greeted me with a smile and a firm handshake quickly followed by 'Wanna beer?" The next half hour was spent enjoying a beer with Don and his hunting partner Allan who gave me the tour and history of their place as well as how they ended up hunting in North Dakota. They had the place fixed up pretty nice and it even came with an old upright piano that sat in the front room. Don said none of them knew how to play piano but after a few beers someone always tried! Both guys were in they're 50's and were primarily waterfowlers having hunted the Tuttle area for years before moving farther south when they purchased this old farmstead and four acres for twenty thousand dollars a few years ago. When they explained they hunted with a group of about 8 family members I was not excited but understanding they were primarily passionate about waterfowling I felt a little better. This area was a place I spent a fair amount of time during the season and a "gang" of eight could really do some damage in short order. And from what I could tell these guys were pretty serious hunters as well as beer drinkers! Anyway I enjoyed the hospitality of these friendly hunters both Wisconsin natives and had to laugh to myself about the beer drinking and loud talking personalities. Just like back home!
From that point on I always refered to that place as the " Beer Drinkers". While I did see vehicles there the past 3 seasons at times I never did run into them again in the field or otherwise. That was just fine with me. I did however hear them shooting a mile north of where I hunted birds around a large pothole several times. But knowing they did hunt upland birds I always hunted that section during the first week of resident Pheasant season. It's a great place for pointing dog's and it bothered me to think of a "gang" of hunters walking through it just shooting up the birds. While it is legal my issue is that I don't believe it's ethical. Definitely not "Fair Chase".
It was the first week of November 2011 that I decided to make a run here with Molly. I hadn't shot any Sharptail here and thought it would be a challenge to try and locate the birds that used this area. They were always here someplace and in pretty good numbers but with sunflowers a primary crop this year bordering this half section of CRP it had been difficult to catch them out of the crop fields. I had seen a covey sitting on some round bales of wheat straw a few days ago on the west edge of this area. My strategy on this morning was to run the edges thinking we could possibly find the Sharptail before they went out to feed in the crop fields.
Molly and I started on the east end working west into the light wind right at sun up. We were moving along the south side with soybean stubble across the road. We had gone about a quarter mile when Molly suddenly eased up slowly with her head up looking straight ahead. I knew we had birds ahead. I approached Molly now rigid and walked by her slowly but nothing was moving. I walked farther now 30 feet ahead of her still standing with her head high. I knew this probably meant the birds were quite a ways ahead and sure enough they flushed all of 40 yards ahead. A full covey of 10 Sharptail. I fired twice missing both times! I watched as the birds arced to the northwest corner of the section until they were over a rise and out of sight. While I was standing there reloading another covey rose to the right of Molly about 30 yards out of range! This was another group of 8 birds that headed north as well. I was glad we had found them and Molly had done a good job of not pushing them.
We circled around to the northwest edge of the run planning to come through along the top of a ridge in the field a favorite place for these birds. The cover there is sparse and on the highest point which is a typical Sharptail preference. I was hoping at least some of those birds might have landed there. As soon as we got to this flat area on top Molly was birdy and came on point around an area of taller grass around this more open cover. I noticed her head was looking right into the grass which meant she was close to the bird and as I walked right up to her was thinking this must be a pheasant as the bird was holding unlike a typical spooky Sharptail. I walked ahead of her a couple steps and kicked the grass. To my surprise a pair of Sharptail exploded straight into the air and after collecting myself I fired on the first bird missing then shot again at the other bird to my left missing again! It was a beautiful sight and I admit I was caught by surprise when these birds held for the flush catching me off guard. I imagined Molly saying " I thought we had a deal here?"
Well we continued on my thought being there might be more of those birds in this area. It wasn't a few moments later that Molly had circled around this spot and was on point again. It was a perfect setting. Bright sun. Crisp temperatures and a light breeze. I walked ahead to her 30 yards to the east and again walked right in. It was another double! I shot and again missed the first bird but connected on the second as it arced to my right. What a moment as Molly retrieved our bird. Great job once again! I felt somewhat relieved having finally put a bird in the bag but was still feeling the need to redeem myself considering the performance Molly was putting on for me.
This high area in the run was quite large and we hadn't covered even half of it so we continued working it with Molly casting about back to the south. We had gone a couple hundred yards when she became birdy again and was making her way towards me from a hundred and fifty yards out when she locked up again. I picked up the pace running to her and got within range again walking right in to her facing to the north. This time a full covey flushed heading north and east. I picked out a bird flying straight east and it fell with one report from my Gold Label! That's how we do that I thought as I congratulated Molly once again putting our second bird in the bag.
The run gradually flattens out to the east so I thought since some of those birds had gone that way we'd head back that direction since we had parked on that end as well. Molly would have to manage the wind which was coming from the west and now at our backs but she was doing fine as she made casts out ahead of me. I had been running my Setters with Garmin tracking collars for the past two years so I just let them run freely. My pups have always been good about checking back so when they'd get out of sight I'd just check my Garmin and head that way if they didn't come around. I can't say enough about how that innovation has enhanced our experience in the field allowing the dog's to hunt unencumbered.
As I approached the east edge of this ridge just where it falls off I had lost sight of Molly for a few moments. After checking my Garmin it indicated she was 110 yards north east of me. On point! I hurried in that direction and slowed up as I came to the edge of this high ground. I then stood there trying to see if I could find her not wanting to stumble across her in the grass spooking the bird. I moved ahead a little farther and she caught my eye pointing uphill 30 yards to my left. I once again slowly moved right to her and a single Sharptail flew low and straight ahead uphill in the direction we had just hunted. I let the bird get out a ways and fired as it tumbled in the tall grass against the hillside. Molly was quick to locate our third bird and laid down now winded as we took a moment to take it all in.
I knew I had run Molly pretty hard but she continued to work birds all the way back to the Jeep pointing a few Hen Pheasants along the way. This had been a great run. So unusual that the birds held like they did today late in the season for Sharptail anyway. As I mentioned I shoot very few birds from this population every year as they are so hard to pin down with the area being so big. The points on the doubles were beautiful as the birds rose high in full profile before turning with the wind. Another " Morning with Molly" I'll never forget! Tom called me later that day to check on how we had done. When I told him about Molly's great performance on the Sharptail and my poor shooting he said "Where was that at?" "Over by the Beer Drinkers" I replied.
As I drove by I noticed two vehicles parked in front of the farmhouse and decided to turn around and find out who owned this place. Over the years of hunting around here I had admired this set up and wondered about buying it. I parked in the driveway and got out walking towards the house. The first thing that caught my eye was the Wisconsin license plates on the trucks. Then a guy came out of the house with a beer in his hand as I approached. I said hello and introduced myself to Don a Wisconsin native who greeted me with a smile and a firm handshake quickly followed by 'Wanna beer?" The next half hour was spent enjoying a beer with Don and his hunting partner Allan who gave me the tour and history of their place as well as how they ended up hunting in North Dakota. They had the place fixed up pretty nice and it even came with an old upright piano that sat in the front room. Don said none of them knew how to play piano but after a few beers someone always tried! Both guys were in they're 50's and were primarily waterfowlers having hunted the Tuttle area for years before moving farther south when they purchased this old farmstead and four acres for twenty thousand dollars a few years ago. When they explained they hunted with a group of about 8 family members I was not excited but understanding they were primarily passionate about waterfowling I felt a little better. This area was a place I spent a fair amount of time during the season and a "gang" of eight could really do some damage in short order. And from what I could tell these guys were pretty serious hunters as well as beer drinkers! Anyway I enjoyed the hospitality of these friendly hunters both Wisconsin natives and had to laugh to myself about the beer drinking and loud talking personalities. Just like back home!
From that point on I always refered to that place as the " Beer Drinkers". While I did see vehicles there the past 3 seasons at times I never did run into them again in the field or otherwise. That was just fine with me. I did however hear them shooting a mile north of where I hunted birds around a large pothole several times. But knowing they did hunt upland birds I always hunted that section during the first week of resident Pheasant season. It's a great place for pointing dog's and it bothered me to think of a "gang" of hunters walking through it just shooting up the birds. While it is legal my issue is that I don't believe it's ethical. Definitely not "Fair Chase".
It was the first week of November 2011 that I decided to make a run here with Molly. I hadn't shot any Sharptail here and thought it would be a challenge to try and locate the birds that used this area. They were always here someplace and in pretty good numbers but with sunflowers a primary crop this year bordering this half section of CRP it had been difficult to catch them out of the crop fields. I had seen a covey sitting on some round bales of wheat straw a few days ago on the west edge of this area. My strategy on this morning was to run the edges thinking we could possibly find the Sharptail before they went out to feed in the crop fields.
Molly and I started on the east end working west into the light wind right at sun up. We were moving along the south side with soybean stubble across the road. We had gone about a quarter mile when Molly suddenly eased up slowly with her head up looking straight ahead. I knew we had birds ahead. I approached Molly now rigid and walked by her slowly but nothing was moving. I walked farther now 30 feet ahead of her still standing with her head high. I knew this probably meant the birds were quite a ways ahead and sure enough they flushed all of 40 yards ahead. A full covey of 10 Sharptail. I fired twice missing both times! I watched as the birds arced to the northwest corner of the section until they were over a rise and out of sight. While I was standing there reloading another covey rose to the right of Molly about 30 yards out of range! This was another group of 8 birds that headed north as well. I was glad we had found them and Molly had done a good job of not pushing them.
We circled around to the northwest edge of the run planning to come through along the top of a ridge in the field a favorite place for these birds. The cover there is sparse and on the highest point which is a typical Sharptail preference. I was hoping at least some of those birds might have landed there. As soon as we got to this flat area on top Molly was birdy and came on point around an area of taller grass around this more open cover. I noticed her head was looking right into the grass which meant she was close to the bird and as I walked right up to her was thinking this must be a pheasant as the bird was holding unlike a typical spooky Sharptail. I walked ahead of her a couple steps and kicked the grass. To my surprise a pair of Sharptail exploded straight into the air and after collecting myself I fired on the first bird missing then shot again at the other bird to my left missing again! It was a beautiful sight and I admit I was caught by surprise when these birds held for the flush catching me off guard. I imagined Molly saying " I thought we had a deal here?"
Well we continued on my thought being there might be more of those birds in this area. It wasn't a few moments later that Molly had circled around this spot and was on point again. It was a perfect setting. Bright sun. Crisp temperatures and a light breeze. I walked ahead to her 30 yards to the east and again walked right in. It was another double! I shot and again missed the first bird but connected on the second as it arced to my right. What a moment as Molly retrieved our bird. Great job once again! I felt somewhat relieved having finally put a bird in the bag but was still feeling the need to redeem myself considering the performance Molly was putting on for me.
This high area in the run was quite large and we hadn't covered even half of it so we continued working it with Molly casting about back to the south. We had gone a couple hundred yards when she became birdy again and was making her way towards me from a hundred and fifty yards out when she locked up again. I picked up the pace running to her and got within range again walking right in to her facing to the north. This time a full covey flushed heading north and east. I picked out a bird flying straight east and it fell with one report from my Gold Label! That's how we do that I thought as I congratulated Molly once again putting our second bird in the bag.
The run gradually flattens out to the east so I thought since some of those birds had gone that way we'd head back that direction since we had parked on that end as well. Molly would have to manage the wind which was coming from the west and now at our backs but she was doing fine as she made casts out ahead of me. I had been running my Setters with Garmin tracking collars for the past two years so I just let them run freely. My pups have always been good about checking back so when they'd get out of sight I'd just check my Garmin and head that way if they didn't come around. I can't say enough about how that innovation has enhanced our experience in the field allowing the dog's to hunt unencumbered.
As I approached the east edge of this ridge just where it falls off I had lost sight of Molly for a few moments. After checking my Garmin it indicated she was 110 yards north east of me. On point! I hurried in that direction and slowed up as I came to the edge of this high ground. I then stood there trying to see if I could find her not wanting to stumble across her in the grass spooking the bird. I moved ahead a little farther and she caught my eye pointing uphill 30 yards to my left. I once again slowly moved right to her and a single Sharptail flew low and straight ahead uphill in the direction we had just hunted. I let the bird get out a ways and fired as it tumbled in the tall grass against the hillside. Molly was quick to locate our third bird and laid down now winded as we took a moment to take it all in.
I knew I had run Molly pretty hard but she continued to work birds all the way back to the Jeep pointing a few Hen Pheasants along the way. This had been a great run. So unusual that the birds held like they did today late in the season for Sharptail anyway. As I mentioned I shoot very few birds from this population every year as they are so hard to pin down with the area being so big. The points on the doubles were beautiful as the birds rose high in full profile before turning with the wind. Another " Morning with Molly" I'll never forget! Tom called me later that day to check on how we had done. When I told him about Molly's great performance on the Sharptail and my poor shooting he said "Where was that at?" "Over by the Beer Drinkers" I replied.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Little Pieces Of Heaven
Something you learn as an upland hunter is that from year to year the areas you hunt can change dramatically. This inevitably causes birds to shift from one section to the next and sometimes even more dramatically than that. These changes are due to land use and crop rotation as well as excessive flooding and moisture.
The advantage I gained by becoming a resident in North Dakota was to be able to scout areas extensively when changes occurred. I remember for example several years ago area residents saying there were not Sharptail in this area. Upon hunting and scouting the cover I found very hunt-able populations in every direction just not where people had traditionally been used to seeing them. And in the season of 2011 it was the same with Pheasants and Huns. With the population down by 50% or more the remaining birds having spread out were not easy to find in all the usual places but again through scouting weeks in advance I was able to locate hatches in isolated pockets.
These pockets of cover holding birds were not always obvious or visible from the road. You could only find them by having your boots on the ground which for hunters with limited time to hunt could be very hit and miss. The temptation is to just drive around scanning the cover from the road or gambling if you will. My thoughts are that your chances of finding birds is always better walking behind your dog than riding in your truck. So my strategy is to know whats going on in an area as far as land use and walk it until I find what areas the birds are using. If nesting cover for Pheasants changed then where is the next closest nesting cover this year? If Sharptail are not near a traditional mating area then where is the next closest area they might use?
It was Sunday the second day of the 2011 Sharptail season. I had decided to make a run with Mick in an area where the sections to the west had come out of CRP and gone back into production. These sections had for many years held both Pheasants and Sharptail. I was sad to see the change but you just have to adapt just like the birds. As I looked at this area earlier in the year I surveyed the surrounding sections and asked the question " Where would the birds go now?" We walked some adjacent pastures in August and found both Pheasants and Sharptail so when Mick and I headed out my plan was to walk those spots. Although we hadn't found birds in abundance in our scouting runs they had to be close by I thought.
It was a sunny morning with absolutely no wind and temperatures in the mid fifties when my boots hit the ground. The plan was to walk through a mile and a half of alfalfa to the east and then cross into the adjacent pasture and head back west. This hay ground was about a foot high with several sloughs scattered about and some gentle hills. The pasture was excellent hilly cover not yet grazed this year with plenty of low buffalo berry patches and sloughs.
Mick was glad to be on a solo run and cast about through the alfalfa working the high spots. He was birdy a hundred yards in and began working towards a hill to the east. This could have been either species and as he came to point at the top of this rise I walked in and flushed a hen Pheasant. We then continued on another few hundred yards with no other birds until we crossed the next fence and Mick started working scent again casting wide circles. We had birds moving. Finally he pinned them down around a rock pile and a brood of Pheasants took flight following each other in succession. Good to know! I was really surprised we hadn't seen any Sharptail but kept moving on through the last quarter of a mile to the east end of the hay field.
Mick picked up scent again towards the back of the run and worked around in the alfalfa circling about trying to locate the birds. I kept up as best as I could but gave him plenty of room to work. The fun thing about Mick is that he'll hold his birds no matter how long it takes me to get there. He'll even turn his head to see where I'm at then sometimes will wag his tail slightly signaling to me " Yup. Got em right here Boss! " It's all fun for Mick and I enjoy his laid back attitude. Then suddenly Mick froze as he cruised the alfalfa 50 yards out in front of me. I quickened my pace and just within range a covey of Sharptail exploded from the ground straight away. I shouldered my 20 gauge RBL and brought down a bird. Nice Job Mick! By the time I reached Mick he was laying down with his tongue hanging out and one paw on the bird waiting for me. What a beautiful morning! We took our usual moment and then headed back west into the pasture.
As soon as we crossed over into the pasture I couldn't help but notice how ideal this cover was. Plenty of high spots and open cover. Grass hoppers everywhere still a favorite food this time of year. We had a mile or more of this cover to hunt and Mick started working up and down the hills. We had gotten a few hundred yards in and Mick came on point on top of a high spot a hundred yards ahead. He was right out in the open and I knew if the birds were close they probably wouldn't hold. I started to run ahead but got only 20 yards closer when Sharptail just started coming off that rise all around Mick. He was right in the middle of a large group! There must have been at least 2 dozen birds that all flushed eventually as I got closer. All still out of range.
Mick then started to cover the whole area around the rise and quickly came on point 40 yards to the north just down hill from this flush. I was able to walk all the way to him and flushed a Sharptail single from the grass which fell with one shot from my RBL. Perfect set up. We continued on in the bright sunshine with no noise except the meadow larks calling and not a hint of wind either. You would think Sharptail would be spookier without wind but its just the opposite. So we were lucky to be out on this day enjoying the best of conditions. Mick worked on up ahead and once again came on point. This time a couple hundred yards ahead on the west side of a rise slightly down hill. I walked all the way in again with Mick turning to check on me as I approached as I mentioned earlier. This is just as good as it gets is what he would have said to me. I once again went ahead to flush but nothing moved so I kicked about the grass and finally a single bolted straight west again and fell with a report from my 20 gauge. Wow! Mick had slowed down a bit in his 9th year but this was a perfect performance and a real pleasure watching him put me on these birds.
We collected our third bird and as I looked around in all directions I understood why the birds had picked this spot. Back off the road. Hidden from view but close to good cover and food. Within a couple miles of where they lived for the last few years. Just a "Little Piece of Heaven" is all they need to survive I thought. Mick and I were glad to have found it on this morning. We would return here throughout the season as well as other similar spots found only through pushing ourselves over the next hill and exploring similar "Pieces of Heaven" which became the magic of this season. It sounds odd maybe but the lower populations were a good thing for us. It was a great challenge. The Setters really had to work to find birds but that's what they're bred for and that's exactly what we did!
The advantage I gained by becoming a resident in North Dakota was to be able to scout areas extensively when changes occurred. I remember for example several years ago area residents saying there were not Sharptail in this area. Upon hunting and scouting the cover I found very hunt-able populations in every direction just not where people had traditionally been used to seeing them. And in the season of 2011 it was the same with Pheasants and Huns. With the population down by 50% or more the remaining birds having spread out were not easy to find in all the usual places but again through scouting weeks in advance I was able to locate hatches in isolated pockets.
These pockets of cover holding birds were not always obvious or visible from the road. You could only find them by having your boots on the ground which for hunters with limited time to hunt could be very hit and miss. The temptation is to just drive around scanning the cover from the road or gambling if you will. My thoughts are that your chances of finding birds is always better walking behind your dog than riding in your truck. So my strategy is to know whats going on in an area as far as land use and walk it until I find what areas the birds are using. If nesting cover for Pheasants changed then where is the next closest nesting cover this year? If Sharptail are not near a traditional mating area then where is the next closest area they might use?
It was Sunday the second day of the 2011 Sharptail season. I had decided to make a run with Mick in an area where the sections to the west had come out of CRP and gone back into production. These sections had for many years held both Pheasants and Sharptail. I was sad to see the change but you just have to adapt just like the birds. As I looked at this area earlier in the year I surveyed the surrounding sections and asked the question " Where would the birds go now?" We walked some adjacent pastures in August and found both Pheasants and Sharptail so when Mick and I headed out my plan was to walk those spots. Although we hadn't found birds in abundance in our scouting runs they had to be close by I thought.
It was a sunny morning with absolutely no wind and temperatures in the mid fifties when my boots hit the ground. The plan was to walk through a mile and a half of alfalfa to the east and then cross into the adjacent pasture and head back west. This hay ground was about a foot high with several sloughs scattered about and some gentle hills. The pasture was excellent hilly cover not yet grazed this year with plenty of low buffalo berry patches and sloughs.
Mick was glad to be on a solo run and cast about through the alfalfa working the high spots. He was birdy a hundred yards in and began working towards a hill to the east. This could have been either species and as he came to point at the top of this rise I walked in and flushed a hen Pheasant. We then continued on another few hundred yards with no other birds until we crossed the next fence and Mick started working scent again casting wide circles. We had birds moving. Finally he pinned them down around a rock pile and a brood of Pheasants took flight following each other in succession. Good to know! I was really surprised we hadn't seen any Sharptail but kept moving on through the last quarter of a mile to the east end of the hay field.
Mick picked up scent again towards the back of the run and worked around in the alfalfa circling about trying to locate the birds. I kept up as best as I could but gave him plenty of room to work. The fun thing about Mick is that he'll hold his birds no matter how long it takes me to get there. He'll even turn his head to see where I'm at then sometimes will wag his tail slightly signaling to me " Yup. Got em right here Boss! " It's all fun for Mick and I enjoy his laid back attitude. Then suddenly Mick froze as he cruised the alfalfa 50 yards out in front of me. I quickened my pace and just within range a covey of Sharptail exploded from the ground straight away. I shouldered my 20 gauge RBL and brought down a bird. Nice Job Mick! By the time I reached Mick he was laying down with his tongue hanging out and one paw on the bird waiting for me. What a beautiful morning! We took our usual moment and then headed back west into the pasture.
As soon as we crossed over into the pasture I couldn't help but notice how ideal this cover was. Plenty of high spots and open cover. Grass hoppers everywhere still a favorite food this time of year. We had a mile or more of this cover to hunt and Mick started working up and down the hills. We had gotten a few hundred yards in and Mick came on point on top of a high spot a hundred yards ahead. He was right out in the open and I knew if the birds were close they probably wouldn't hold. I started to run ahead but got only 20 yards closer when Sharptail just started coming off that rise all around Mick. He was right in the middle of a large group! There must have been at least 2 dozen birds that all flushed eventually as I got closer. All still out of range.
Mick then started to cover the whole area around the rise and quickly came on point 40 yards to the north just down hill from this flush. I was able to walk all the way to him and flushed a Sharptail single from the grass which fell with one shot from my RBL. Perfect set up. We continued on in the bright sunshine with no noise except the meadow larks calling and not a hint of wind either. You would think Sharptail would be spookier without wind but its just the opposite. So we were lucky to be out on this day enjoying the best of conditions. Mick worked on up ahead and once again came on point. This time a couple hundred yards ahead on the west side of a rise slightly down hill. I walked all the way in again with Mick turning to check on me as I approached as I mentioned earlier. This is just as good as it gets is what he would have said to me. I once again went ahead to flush but nothing moved so I kicked about the grass and finally a single bolted straight west again and fell with a report from my 20 gauge. Wow! Mick had slowed down a bit in his 9th year but this was a perfect performance and a real pleasure watching him put me on these birds.
We collected our third bird and as I looked around in all directions I understood why the birds had picked this spot. Back off the road. Hidden from view but close to good cover and food. Within a couple miles of where they lived for the last few years. Just a "Little Piece of Heaven" is all they need to survive I thought. Mick and I were glad to have found it on this morning. We would return here throughout the season as well as other similar spots found only through pushing ourselves over the next hill and exploring similar "Pieces of Heaven" which became the magic of this season. It sounds odd maybe but the lower populations were a good thing for us. It was a great challenge. The Setters really had to work to find birds but that's what they're bred for and that's exactly what we did!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Triple Play
As you read these stories my motivation for writing them is to preserve what are the high points,perfect moments or those not so perfect, of my life with the Love Creek English Setter's. Most of our lives are spent doing someone else's bidding so that maybe we can afford to do some of our own. And maybe, just maybe, we may be fortunate enough to experience some great moments significant enough for us to understand why we get up every day and keep pursuing our dreams. I've been very fortunate in that I've had many of these moments. Enough to fill this page and many more. As a culture we store the symbols of similar great moments as a people in museums to forever preserve them and honor those responsible. In much the same way these pages are my museum if you will. My way of preserving our life and times. They are really the sum total of our experience together. As good as it gets.
So as I look at the Setter's this morning I wonder how long we'll have. How many more days like these I've written about. How many more miles will we walk together before age catches up with us and all that'll be left is what's on these pages and in my mind. These are good times that I know in the end will be the best of times. As I look at the Setter's I don't ever want to forget any of it. And so I write on.
During the 2011 season Tom had come out the second week of November and we had decided to hunt together on this morning. Having been watching the harvesting of crops across the area I chose a run I call the Marilyn Monroe 480. Almost a full section of rolling CRP grass bordered by now harvested corn to the north and wheat to the east and west. This was such an expansive area of heavy cover it didn't get as much pressure as the smaller sloughs and pockets of cover. The gang hunters or "shitbirds" as I call them like to surround the smaller areas so they can shoot the heck out of the birds. Gotta get our limit! I prefer to hunt the birds not ambush them. And yes I believe in fair chase. I do have a sense of humor about this however as in anything there are different styles and strategies with one faction always discounting the others methods or beliefs. Let there be no misunderstanding!. I am grateful there are not many hunters out there that cover ground like I do with the Setter's!
I suggested Tom take the east edge and I'd take Molly and work the west side of this area. The wind was all of 15 to 20 mph and coming from the west under partly cloudy skies.
Molly and I headed into the grass which is quite heavy along the north side and she began working to the west edge. There were birds moving as she cast about coming to point quickly along the northwest edge. I moved ahead to flush and a Hen took flight. We turned back south and worked up around a rock pile with Molly coming to point again on a rise facing south. I was 50 yards behind her and on approach several birds started flushing wild out of range back into the CRP heading south. This field has several rolling hills which run east and west providing cover from the wind in the depressions between them. The challenging part is it's so big and when birds start moving you can really put on some miles pinning them down. I'm speaking from experience having hunted here several times over the year's with mixed success.
On this day as I walked along my guess was that the depressions out of the wind might hold birds. So we walked on and made a cast to the east a quarter mile and circled back west once we got over the first hill. Sure enough Molly got birdy 100 feet from the west edge of the wheat stubble and was working a bird. I got close as she was obviously tracking this bird headed right for the open wheat stubble. Just as she got to the edge she pointed facing north. I was within range but hoped the bird would hold for me to walk right in as the wind was a real factor today so every advantage was welcome on this day. I got right to Molly and the Rooster flushed to the west into the wind as I hoped hanging in the air before turning and I fired bringing it down! Molly ran over to retrieve and I decided we'd repeat this strategy of hunting the area's between the hills as we moved south.
We moved on heading east again over the next rise a few hundred yards and Molly picked up scent again tracking back and forth across the top of the hill and over into the next depression or bowl formation in the field. This bird was really moving about but she kept circling trying to keep picking it up as it changed direction several times. This was incredible to watch as she systematically kept locating the scent and trying to pin down the bird. I had everything I could do to keep up hoping to be within range when she went on point finally. Again this bird was headed back to the west edge of the field and the open wheat stubble. I was hoping she would get it pinned down before it reached the open field. She did coming to point 50 yards from the edge. I was 60 yards away when she finally locked up and having been following this contest as best I could was winded at this point but the bird was holding. I was able to again walk right in as Molly held steady facing west flushing this second Rooster into the wind again and bringing it down with one shot! Spectacular bird work! I hadn't let this bird get very far out before firing and was happy it wasn't hit to hard when Molly recovered it. As we took a moment I saw Tom's truck back on the road as he looked for us. Since we were almost to the back of this run and our strategy was working I decided to press on over the next rise.
We repeated the maneuver of casting east in a wide arc and then turning into the wind heading west. This time Molly picked up scent and started working the birds to the east back and forth through the area between the ridges or hills if you will. This went on for quite a while with points and relocating and pointing again only to have the birds run out. Finally after circling about Molly locked up again and I flushed a pair of Hens. We were now almost all the way to the east edge and turned back west working the south edge of this run as we headed back. Another cat and mouse game ensued with a Sharptail flushing wild in the adjacent hay field just out of range. As we came back west and turned north again Molly started working a bird again in the low spot between these ridges. She tracked the bird up and over the next ridge out of my sight momentarily. When I came to the top of the ridge there she was 100 yards ahead against the opposite side of the hill on point. This looked so much like the previous points it was unbelievable. What was more unbelievable is that this bird was holding as I made my way once again right up to Molly. I collected myself as I approached wanting to make this shot for her if we had another Rooster. I moved ahead to flush and sure enough our third Rooster took flight again into the wind falling with one shot from my Gold Label! What a text book performance I thought. Molly had handled everyone of these birds perfectly. They had all done their best to outsmart her but she'd circled and cast about never loosing them as she worked to head them off and hold them for the gun. What a run! As we walked along the wheat stubble headed back north I was glad to see Tom driving along the field edge to pick us up as we both had quite a workout.
Our success was due of course to superb bird work. It couldn't have happened without a very talented and experienced bird dog. Molly. She had handled these birds with incredible determination,drive and desire. My knowledge of the terrain led us to approach the run with a successful strategy hunting the areas in between the ridges betting the wind would make them a desired location to hold birds on this day. And they did. Three up and three down. Three birds and three shells. A real triple play!
So as I look at the Setter's this morning I wonder how long we'll have. How many more days like these I've written about. How many more miles will we walk together before age catches up with us and all that'll be left is what's on these pages and in my mind. These are good times that I know in the end will be the best of times. As I look at the Setter's I don't ever want to forget any of it. And so I write on.
During the 2011 season Tom had come out the second week of November and we had decided to hunt together on this morning. Having been watching the harvesting of crops across the area I chose a run I call the Marilyn Monroe 480. Almost a full section of rolling CRP grass bordered by now harvested corn to the north and wheat to the east and west. This was such an expansive area of heavy cover it didn't get as much pressure as the smaller sloughs and pockets of cover. The gang hunters or "shitbirds" as I call them like to surround the smaller areas so they can shoot the heck out of the birds. Gotta get our limit! I prefer to hunt the birds not ambush them. And yes I believe in fair chase. I do have a sense of humor about this however as in anything there are different styles and strategies with one faction always discounting the others methods or beliefs. Let there be no misunderstanding!. I am grateful there are not many hunters out there that cover ground like I do with the Setter's!
I suggested Tom take the east edge and I'd take Molly and work the west side of this area. The wind was all of 15 to 20 mph and coming from the west under partly cloudy skies.
Molly and I headed into the grass which is quite heavy along the north side and she began working to the west edge. There were birds moving as she cast about coming to point quickly along the northwest edge. I moved ahead to flush and a Hen took flight. We turned back south and worked up around a rock pile with Molly coming to point again on a rise facing south. I was 50 yards behind her and on approach several birds started flushing wild out of range back into the CRP heading south. This field has several rolling hills which run east and west providing cover from the wind in the depressions between them. The challenging part is it's so big and when birds start moving you can really put on some miles pinning them down. I'm speaking from experience having hunted here several times over the year's with mixed success.
On this day as I walked along my guess was that the depressions out of the wind might hold birds. So we walked on and made a cast to the east a quarter mile and circled back west once we got over the first hill. Sure enough Molly got birdy 100 feet from the west edge of the wheat stubble and was working a bird. I got close as she was obviously tracking this bird headed right for the open wheat stubble. Just as she got to the edge she pointed facing north. I was within range but hoped the bird would hold for me to walk right in as the wind was a real factor today so every advantage was welcome on this day. I got right to Molly and the Rooster flushed to the west into the wind as I hoped hanging in the air before turning and I fired bringing it down! Molly ran over to retrieve and I decided we'd repeat this strategy of hunting the area's between the hills as we moved south.
We moved on heading east again over the next rise a few hundred yards and Molly picked up scent again tracking back and forth across the top of the hill and over into the next depression or bowl formation in the field. This bird was really moving about but she kept circling trying to keep picking it up as it changed direction several times. This was incredible to watch as she systematically kept locating the scent and trying to pin down the bird. I had everything I could do to keep up hoping to be within range when she went on point finally. Again this bird was headed back to the west edge of the field and the open wheat stubble. I was hoping she would get it pinned down before it reached the open field. She did coming to point 50 yards from the edge. I was 60 yards away when she finally locked up and having been following this contest as best I could was winded at this point but the bird was holding. I was able to again walk right in as Molly held steady facing west flushing this second Rooster into the wind again and bringing it down with one shot! Spectacular bird work! I hadn't let this bird get very far out before firing and was happy it wasn't hit to hard when Molly recovered it. As we took a moment I saw Tom's truck back on the road as he looked for us. Since we were almost to the back of this run and our strategy was working I decided to press on over the next rise.
We repeated the maneuver of casting east in a wide arc and then turning into the wind heading west. This time Molly picked up scent and started working the birds to the east back and forth through the area between the ridges or hills if you will. This went on for quite a while with points and relocating and pointing again only to have the birds run out. Finally after circling about Molly locked up again and I flushed a pair of Hens. We were now almost all the way to the east edge and turned back west working the south edge of this run as we headed back. Another cat and mouse game ensued with a Sharptail flushing wild in the adjacent hay field just out of range. As we came back west and turned north again Molly started working a bird again in the low spot between these ridges. She tracked the bird up and over the next ridge out of my sight momentarily. When I came to the top of the ridge there she was 100 yards ahead against the opposite side of the hill on point. This looked so much like the previous points it was unbelievable. What was more unbelievable is that this bird was holding as I made my way once again right up to Molly. I collected myself as I approached wanting to make this shot for her if we had another Rooster. I moved ahead to flush and sure enough our third Rooster took flight again into the wind falling with one shot from my Gold Label! What a text book performance I thought. Molly had handled everyone of these birds perfectly. They had all done their best to outsmart her but she'd circled and cast about never loosing them as she worked to head them off and hold them for the gun. What a run! As we walked along the wheat stubble headed back north I was glad to see Tom driving along the field edge to pick us up as we both had quite a workout.
Our success was due of course to superb bird work. It couldn't have happened without a very talented and experienced bird dog. Molly. She had handled these birds with incredible determination,drive and desire. My knowledge of the terrain led us to approach the run with a successful strategy hunting the areas in between the ridges betting the wind would make them a desired location to hold birds on this day. And they did. Three up and three down. Three birds and three shells. A real triple play!
Monday, March 5, 2012
Flash Backs
The season of 2011 found me doing many more solo runs with the Setter's than I had ever done before. The pup's were in their 9th season so this served to allow some recovery time for them in between days we would cover miles of ground searching for the birds. Hunting sometimes several days in a row this was a necessity to make sure I always had a fresh dog available. But there were some points a couple more Setter's would have been the answer! Due to a local ordinance only allowing 3 pets per household I was capped at my crew of 3. This individual time I spent with them was really enjoyable giving me the time to observe their individual styles and appreciate each dog's strengths as we walked mile after mile across the plains this season.
Due to Molly's injury she and I spent a lot of time together as I gave her time to adjust. There exists between my crew a pecking order that determines who rides where in the jeep among other things. So when we started to run solo more I recall having to let Molly know it was OK to ride shotgun in the front seat with me as this is always Mick's spot. These were great times spending hours alone with her in the field and I couldn't help thinking about how she reminded me of my Brittany Spaniel "Ginger" who I acquired at the age of 13.
Ginger came to us from Durwood Stevens an executive at the Oscar Mayer plant where both my father and mother had worked. Durwood had been involved in field trialing with his dog's and had a litter which he had one female left from. Having talked with my mother about how I wanted a bird dog he said we should consider the Brittany. Well that was all it took and I had just enough money saved from working at summer jobs to afford my pup which for 75 dollars in 1966 was a lot of money. Durwood really went out of his way to coach me on the care and development of my pup writing me an 8 page handwritten letter outlining how to's with my dog. I still have this letter today and keep it in a suitcase with the rest of my special memento's. He also gave me a copy of a book on the Brittany in America. I remember him stopping out at our house as well if he was travelling in the area with his dog's just to check up on how we were doing. He had a 57 Chevy he used to travel around in with his dog's keeping them in the trunk. My Ginger was a shy girl to begin with and I remember him coaching me on just going for walks with her letting her build her confidence slowly and allowing her to gradually discover the cover around us. So I'd spend many hour's walking down the rail road tracks a mile out of town giving my pup the time to adjust and discover her new world.
That first season Ginger was almost a year old when my Dad and I found ourselves walking behind her as we made our way through an uncut hay field that first October. There was a slight drizzle of rain in the late afternoon under cloudy skies on this day. Ginger had been working between us when I noticed her in front of me. She was frozen like a statue just looking straight ahead. I was puzzled as I walked up to her not just being a novice to hunting but hunting with a real pointing dog! My experience was mostly centered around the stories I read in the Sports Afield magazines at the local barbershop waiting for a haircut or what I'd watch on TV when the American Sportsman was on. Even though Durwood did his best to prepare me for what I would experience with my pup as a boy of 13 I had one thing on my mind and that was of course when I'd get to shoot at a bird! So when I walked up to my dog who appeared to be paralyzed I called over to my Dad to my left 100 feet. "Hey Dad somethings wrong with Ginger!" He said "What's the matter?"My reply was "She's not movin! She's just froze over here!. She won't move!" Well my Dad came over and explained that she was pointing and directed me to flush the bird a Hen Pheasant sitting tight in the grass. What a revelation that was. As we made our way through the field Ginger pointed a total of 9 Hen's that first run. By the time we got home we knew we had a real bird dog on our hands!
In 1969 I was making a "magic hour" run with Ginger down the same rail road tracks. It was after school on a Friday. The last hour of daylight before the sun goes down. I was alone hunting Ginger along the creek that ran behind our house and out into the country. We had hunted the usual cover and Ginger had picked up scent and was tracking a bird towards a small lake fed by the creek. I was able to cross the creek to follow her as this was late November and the water had just iced over in spots enough to allow us to make our way. The sun had just set and was fading fast as I approached Ginger on point right at the edge of the frozen lake. I was carrying Dad's 20 gauge as I walked up to flush hoping for a Rooster. My wish was granted as a mature bird rose above us straight away and high over the lake. I fired and the bird tumbled down but then gathered itself and started running for the opposite bank! Before I knew it Ginger was running across the small lake after the Rooster. As she got to the center of the lake 100 feet from the opposite bank I heard the ice cracking! I got a lump in my throat as I realized if she fell through I couldn't save her. She seemed to slow up as she walked across and disappeared up the bank on the trail of the bird. I patiently stood there helpless as I watched her appear again a minute later with the Rooster in her mouth. She looked at me briefly before descending down the bank and once again made her way across the "Thin Ice". By this time the sun was gone and the moon had risen illuminating the scene as she made her way across the frozen water safely returning to where I stood waiting with Dad's 20 gauge in hand. It was a moment that makes you think someone was watching over you as it could have turned out very different. But as it was it became one of the most memorable moments Ginger and I had together. Someday I'll have a watercolor painted of that moment as it's one that will live on forever in my mind.
These flash backs of days and dogs gone by were easy to recall as I walked with Molly on our runs. Life's just a collection of moments some which are significant enough to never be forgotten or erased from our minds. I'm glad to have them and also glad someone was watching over us at times as well.
Due to Molly's injury she and I spent a lot of time together as I gave her time to adjust. There exists between my crew a pecking order that determines who rides where in the jeep among other things. So when we started to run solo more I recall having to let Molly know it was OK to ride shotgun in the front seat with me as this is always Mick's spot. These were great times spending hours alone with her in the field and I couldn't help thinking about how she reminded me of my Brittany Spaniel "Ginger" who I acquired at the age of 13.
Ginger came to us from Durwood Stevens an executive at the Oscar Mayer plant where both my father and mother had worked. Durwood had been involved in field trialing with his dog's and had a litter which he had one female left from. Having talked with my mother about how I wanted a bird dog he said we should consider the Brittany. Well that was all it took and I had just enough money saved from working at summer jobs to afford my pup which for 75 dollars in 1966 was a lot of money. Durwood really went out of his way to coach me on the care and development of my pup writing me an 8 page handwritten letter outlining how to's with my dog. I still have this letter today and keep it in a suitcase with the rest of my special memento's. He also gave me a copy of a book on the Brittany in America. I remember him stopping out at our house as well if he was travelling in the area with his dog's just to check up on how we were doing. He had a 57 Chevy he used to travel around in with his dog's keeping them in the trunk. My Ginger was a shy girl to begin with and I remember him coaching me on just going for walks with her letting her build her confidence slowly and allowing her to gradually discover the cover around us. So I'd spend many hour's walking down the rail road tracks a mile out of town giving my pup the time to adjust and discover her new world.
That first season Ginger was almost a year old when my Dad and I found ourselves walking behind her as we made our way through an uncut hay field that first October. There was a slight drizzle of rain in the late afternoon under cloudy skies on this day. Ginger had been working between us when I noticed her in front of me. She was frozen like a statue just looking straight ahead. I was puzzled as I walked up to her not just being a novice to hunting but hunting with a real pointing dog! My experience was mostly centered around the stories I read in the Sports Afield magazines at the local barbershop waiting for a haircut or what I'd watch on TV when the American Sportsman was on. Even though Durwood did his best to prepare me for what I would experience with my pup as a boy of 13 I had one thing on my mind and that was of course when I'd get to shoot at a bird! So when I walked up to my dog who appeared to be paralyzed I called over to my Dad to my left 100 feet. "Hey Dad somethings wrong with Ginger!" He said "What's the matter?"My reply was "She's not movin! She's just froze over here!. She won't move!" Well my Dad came over and explained that she was pointing and directed me to flush the bird a Hen Pheasant sitting tight in the grass. What a revelation that was. As we made our way through the field Ginger pointed a total of 9 Hen's that first run. By the time we got home we knew we had a real bird dog on our hands!
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| Ginger and I after a run down the tracks 1967. Just a mile out of town and we were in another world. We spent a lot of time walking those fields and cover's along the creek. |
In 1969 I was making a "magic hour" run with Ginger down the same rail road tracks. It was after school on a Friday. The last hour of daylight before the sun goes down. I was alone hunting Ginger along the creek that ran behind our house and out into the country. We had hunted the usual cover and Ginger had picked up scent and was tracking a bird towards a small lake fed by the creek. I was able to cross the creek to follow her as this was late November and the water had just iced over in spots enough to allow us to make our way. The sun had just set and was fading fast as I approached Ginger on point right at the edge of the frozen lake. I was carrying Dad's 20 gauge as I walked up to flush hoping for a Rooster. My wish was granted as a mature bird rose above us straight away and high over the lake. I fired and the bird tumbled down but then gathered itself and started running for the opposite bank! Before I knew it Ginger was running across the small lake after the Rooster. As she got to the center of the lake 100 feet from the opposite bank I heard the ice cracking! I got a lump in my throat as I realized if she fell through I couldn't save her. She seemed to slow up as she walked across and disappeared up the bank on the trail of the bird. I patiently stood there helpless as I watched her appear again a minute later with the Rooster in her mouth. She looked at me briefly before descending down the bank and once again made her way across the "Thin Ice". By this time the sun was gone and the moon had risen illuminating the scene as she made her way across the frozen water safely returning to where I stood waiting with Dad's 20 gauge in hand. It was a moment that makes you think someone was watching over you as it could have turned out very different. But as it was it became one of the most memorable moments Ginger and I had together. Someday I'll have a watercolor painted of that moment as it's one that will live on forever in my mind.
These flash backs of days and dogs gone by were easy to recall as I walked with Molly on our runs. Life's just a collection of moments some which are significant enough to never be forgotten or erased from our minds. I'm glad to have them and also glad someone was watching over us at times as well.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Traditions
The last two year's my son Carson has joined me during the Thanksgiving holiday week to bird hunt. As we talked during his visit the subject of traditions came up. The issue we discussed is that sometimes the family traditions stop working. The purpose is supposed to be to spend time together showing your respect and mutual support for each other having been bonded together through growing up in the same extended family.
I happen to be a believer in making your own rules when it comes to traditions of any type especially having been single most of my life. This allowed me to be free for the most part of being a part of many of these " Gotta Do" get together's. So you can imagine what my advice was on this subject! Now I have been a guest of families over the year's that truly do gather to show respect and support for each other and would classify these families as "Close". On the flip side I've been a part of families that fail the test on the true reason for observing these traditional get together's. Word's to describe these groups would be dysfunctional or simply not "close". That's fine. We're all different. No problem except you have to make a decision about how you use your time around these holidays. After all it's your time and your decision always.
So no excuses then about these holidays. After all why should you year after year spend time around people you may not respect,have nothing in common with, who drink to much or just can't stop talking about themselves. It just doesn't make good sense. It's sort of like watching some mindless dribble on TV because that's all that's on! It's just not logical!
A couple of the traditions I established for myself over the year's were to fish Love Creek from beginning to end,a several mile trek,on Easter morning. This was an exhilarating experience being out in the woods on the dawn of spring time. A real celebration of life! And that's what it meant to me. Another was to start the Sharptail season "West of the Windmill" 8 year's in a row to celebrate the start to another season in this beautiful place the Setter's and I had so many great times together.
I remember one of the families I was a frequent guest of over the year's had a birthday tradition of roasting the birthday person while they had to eat the first piece of cake in total silence. Each family member would take turns making jibes and barbs trying to make the birthday person laugh! You see as the tradition goes you only get your wish if you remain silent! It was great fun to watch. This bunch were real practical joker's as well. What I would call a "close" family.
For many year's if my son's weren't with me on Christmas day I'd go skiing by myself. On one of these outings it was a bright sunny day and the snow was great as I recall. I loved this tradition. It was a great way to spend the holiday for me. I was riding up the chairlift with a young boy about 10 year's old just talking about the snow and as we exited the chair we both said have a good time. Then as I was skiing away I heard him yell "Hey Mister!" I turned around and he looked at me and said " Merry Christmas!" I'll never forget that. It was a true positive sentiment from a kid to young to misunderstand it as anything else. Real and meaningful.
Another tradition I was invited to take part in over the year's was the Dukelow fishing trip to Canada. This was a group of longtime friends that gathered every year for over twenty year's to share each other's friendship while fishing in Canada. It was an event where the father's then invited their son's to attend as well. My son Carson and I were invited to come along and it was a fun experience with all the ritual and activities of any nationally observed holiday. By that I mean the card playing,fishing contest's,wall of fame ceremony,shore luncheons,golf driving contest, and of course the happy hour which was pretty much every hour! Good friends. Good people. Good times! This was a "close" family of friends.
Another tradition I engaged in a few year's was to travel to Goodman after my folks had retired to wish my Dad a happy birthday. I'd show up unannounced. No gift. No card. Just a surprise. My Dad really liked this because it was the time I took that meant something to him. After all it's the most valuable thing we all have to give each other.
So it's different for everybody. How you view traditions I mean. For me an experience shared is meaningful. Being able to connect with people is the objective. Walking away with some understanding about your relationship to each other. Understanding and appreciating it's value and most importantly how to contribute to it and make it grow as year's pass.
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| Carson with Molly and Beau. Thanksgiving 2011. This was a great way for us to spend the holiday. As we hunted together we each got a glimpse into each others world for a while as we walked behind the Setter's. |
I happen to be a believer in making your own rules when it comes to traditions of any type especially having been single most of my life. This allowed me to be free for the most part of being a part of many of these " Gotta Do" get together's. So you can imagine what my advice was on this subject! Now I have been a guest of families over the year's that truly do gather to show respect and support for each other and would classify these families as "Close". On the flip side I've been a part of families that fail the test on the true reason for observing these traditional get together's. Word's to describe these groups would be dysfunctional or simply not "close". That's fine. We're all different. No problem except you have to make a decision about how you use your time around these holidays. After all it's your time and your decision always.
So no excuses then about these holidays. After all why should you year after year spend time around people you may not respect,have nothing in common with, who drink to much or just can't stop talking about themselves. It just doesn't make good sense. It's sort of like watching some mindless dribble on TV because that's all that's on! It's just not logical!
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| Fishing Love Creek on Easter morning was a tradition I really enjoyed. Seeing the woods coming alive and maybe catching a few trout as well was inspiring. |
A couple of the traditions I established for myself over the year's were to fish Love Creek from beginning to end,a several mile trek,on Easter morning. This was an exhilarating experience being out in the woods on the dawn of spring time. A real celebration of life! And that's what it meant to me. Another was to start the Sharptail season "West of the Windmill" 8 year's in a row to celebrate the start to another season in this beautiful place the Setter's and I had so many great times together.
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| Taking a break on a run "West of the Windmill" |
I remember one of the families I was a frequent guest of over the year's had a birthday tradition of roasting the birthday person while they had to eat the first piece of cake in total silence. Each family member would take turns making jibes and barbs trying to make the birthday person laugh! You see as the tradition goes you only get your wish if you remain silent! It was great fun to watch. This bunch were real practical joker's as well. What I would call a "close" family.
For many year's if my son's weren't with me on Christmas day I'd go skiing by myself. On one of these outings it was a bright sunny day and the snow was great as I recall. I loved this tradition. It was a great way to spend the holiday for me. I was riding up the chairlift with a young boy about 10 year's old just talking about the snow and as we exited the chair we both said have a good time. Then as I was skiing away I heard him yell "Hey Mister!" I turned around and he looked at me and said " Merry Christmas!" I'll never forget that. It was a true positive sentiment from a kid to young to misunderstand it as anything else. Real and meaningful.
Another tradition I was invited to take part in over the year's was the Dukelow fishing trip to Canada. This was a group of longtime friends that gathered every year for over twenty year's to share each other's friendship while fishing in Canada. It was an event where the father's then invited their son's to attend as well. My son Carson and I were invited to come along and it was a fun experience with all the ritual and activities of any nationally observed holiday. By that I mean the card playing,fishing contest's,wall of fame ceremony,shore luncheons,golf driving contest, and of course the happy hour which was pretty much every hour! Good friends. Good people. Good times! This was a "close" family of friends.
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| "The Dukelow and Friends" tradition. A great example of how to create meaningful ways to celebrate friendships. And as the saying goes what happened in Canada stayed in Canada! |
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| The "Shack" at Ten Acres. A sight my Dad would view every day as he drank his morning coffee. When I'd arrive unannounced on his birthday he really enjoyed it. It was the time that was most important to him. It meant something. |
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| Carson and Molly Thanksgiving 2010. We braved the single digit temperature to spend this time together we both won't forget to soon. It was about much more than just the hunting. My example to share was about the possibilities life holds for you if you so chose them. It's not always about money. Happiness I mean. |
So it's different for everybody. How you view traditions I mean. For me an experience shared is meaningful. Being able to connect with people is the objective. Walking away with some understanding about your relationship to each other. Understanding and appreciating it's value and most importantly how to contribute to it and make it grow as year's pass.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Mornings With Molly
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| Love Creek English Setter's MVP 2011 Most Valuable Pointer Molly |
It had been 14 days since Molly's operation to remove her left eye. The eye lid now was sewn shut covering where her eye had been. I had made every effort to do what could be done for her making an emergency trip to a specialist in Minneapolis but the diagnosis was that the eye could not be saved and had to come out. I felt most confident having the surgery done by my Vet in Madison Wisconsin so I called from Minneapolis and made the arrangements for the surgery which had to be done asap.
We stayed at my sister's with Mick and Beau for a week following the surgery to allow Molly to recover. It was the last week of September and we'd been hunting Sharptail for 3 weeks at that point. As I spent a few moments talking with my Vet he recounted several accidents in the field he was familiar with over the year's that came to mind and said " Arlan I can tell you this that if you hunt long enough something eventually will happen either to you or one of your dog's. That's just the way it is." That's no consolation but it made me feel better knowing I wasn't alone. And later on in the season in fact did experience having to rescue Mick after he fell through thin ice in a slough and couldn't get out causing me to have to wade in up to my waist to pull him out!
So the morning to remove the stitches finally came during the first week of resident Pheasant season. My Vet Morrie Link had assured me that Molly would adjust and hunt as she had with maybe a little difficulty marking birds from her blind side. This would be the test. I carefully removed the stitches myself at 7:15 and everything looked as though it healed fine so the plan was to run Molly by herself the first week to allow her to adjust in the field and observe how she did.
I chose an area with mostly open cover to allow her to ease into the routine again. We arrived just after 8:00 a.m and I turned Molly out having left Mick and Beau at home. Molly was eager to get going having had the cone on again for the last two weeks and it was a nice sunny morning with little to no wind. The plan was to walk through a little CRP then around the edge of a wheat field and come back through some short alfalfa with sloughs interspersed throughout. I hadn't taken 10 steps and she was working a bird casting about in circles in the CRP! I was amazed as she got right to work. I did notice her looking for me a couple of times at first but she was quick to adjust and kept moving. This bird was moving about and she stayed with it working around a rise in the grass. I was prepared for a flush at anytime of course and kept close to her as she worked. Finally she came to point right on top of the knoll 100 feet from the Jeep behind us! Not 10 minutes had passed. I moved slowly ahead and past her flushing a nice Rooster back to the west which fell with one shot from my 16 gauge SxS. I was so happy for her as she recovered the down bird. Glad to have her back on the team!
It was around 8:15 when we headed back east along the wheat stubble and Molly worked the edge along the grass. Halfway down the fence line she locked up on point again standing in the wheat stubble pointing into the grass. I walked ahead and two Hens flushed. She was having fun! We then headed across the alfalfa towards the first slough. Molly got birdy around the south side and was tracking a bird along the cattails. Suddenly she stopped. Going on point right on the edge 30 yards ahead of me. I approached cautiously and kicked the grass ahead of her. Another Rooster burst from the cover and again fell with one shot from my 16 gauge SxS. It was a little after 8:30 and Molly had me on two Rooster's already on her first morning back. Incredible!
We worked the short alfalfa back to the next slough and Molly came around the north side and got birdy in the alfalfa which was a little higher with some open patches here and there. She was tracking moving birds here and came on point in the open right where the field had a little dip in it creating a place for birds to hide I thought. I was right! I walked ahead as she held still being about 50 yards behind her and came within 20 feet of her when two Roosters took flight simultaneously in a beautiful flush. I took the bird to my right and again it fell with one shot from my SxS. I had to let the second bird go of course because that was our third bird. Molly retrieved the prize and as I looked at my watch it was 8:50 a.m. What a run for her first morning out in two weeks. She may have a handicap but so far I hadn't figured out what it was!
We made our way back to the Jeep as I thought about how fragile our lives can be with the unexpected changing our course at anytime. So this run with Molly was a second chance. Being lucky to still be out here together doing what we both love.
Deja Vu
After an hour and a half I looked at my Garmin GPS Tracker and I had walked 3.5 miles and Molly had gone 6 as we made a loop through this large area. Molly had pointed a 5 bird group just a hundred yards into the run so we had one Rooster in the game bag as we turned back south towards the Jeep. As we made our way across this short grass pasture into the wind Molly picked up scent once again and followed it all the way into the next pasture. She had already been tracking this scent for a few hundred yards when she crossed the fence back near our starting point when this feeling of deja vu came over me. Two weeks earlier the same situation had occurred while hunting with my son Carson in the exact same spot. At the end of that run Molly had done the exact same thing picking up scent a couple of hundred yards north and crossing over into the same pasture first pointing a hen and then picking up another bird and coming to point in very sparse cover which had turned out to be a Rooster which I had shot. It had been an incredible piece of bird work as she pinned these birds down in very sparse cover without bumping them.
However on this day I was played out from following her numerous times as she tried to pin down birds only to have them run ahead and flush wild out of range. But that feeling of deja vu wouldn't let go as I crossed into the pasture not yet believing the same experience could repeat itself. It didn't take long for her to come to point once she tracked the bird into the next pasture. As I cautiously walked forward I thought regardless of whether it was a Hen or Rooster it had been a superb show once again. I was able to walk in front of her and a Hen flushed twenty feet ahead! I took a minute to congratulate Molly but she wasn't done yet as she made a big cast around the pasture and started working back towards me from a couple hundred yards away. The zig zag route she was on indicated to me she was working a moving bird which in this short open cover is difficult to culminate in a point with the bird agreeing to hold from flushing until I can get there!
Much to my surprise on this day Molly suddenly stopped short focused intently on a small clump of grass barely noticeable in the open cover. I had about 75 yards to cover to get within range. So again for the countless time this day I did another dash or "surge" as my friend Dennis would call it attempting to close the gap between us and get within range before this bird decided to take flight! As I approached I couldn't help but notice this looked and felt like the same spot this happened 2 weeks earlier. I got within 20 feet or so breathing heavily and slowly walked another few steps when a mature Rooster with tail feathers bending in the wind took flight to the south and fell on the second shot. The bird came down hard in the open pasture but still had some fight left but Molly quickly secured the bird and walked in a circle with her prize before approaching me with the bird letting me know who the responsible party really was!
We took a few minutes to absorb this great finish to Molly's run and reflect on what a coincidence we had just experienced. I am always thrilled by watching the Setter's hold birds on point in the open cover as it's such a beautiful sight to behold. Made even more thrilling then by being able to shoot a bird for them. As we then turned to walk the short distance to the Jeep we listened to the jealous howling from Mick and Beau who undoubtedly had heard the shots and were now awaiting there own solo run.
Dad's Double Barrel
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| The Schell Butte run December 2011 with Dad's Double Barrel |
As a kid I couldn't wait for the day I got to use Dad's gun the reason being it had two shots and mine just had one! I was convinced this was why he shot more birds than I did with my single shot 410. But the mantra was "You learn how to shoot by making the first shot count!". I carried that pea shooter for two year's dreaming of the day I could carry his gun. Finally at age 14 I was able to hunt on my own. Dad was off the hook not having to chaperon me every time I wanted to go after school when he had already put in a hard day's work on the job. I made countless memories carrying that gun while walking behind my bird dog a Brittany Spaniel named Ginger. A few year's before Dad passed away he gave me that gun some 40 year's later. It meant a lot to me and I was grateful to have it. It was a Stevens pre 1960 model 20 gauge SxS probably made in the early 40's. A common working man's gun nothing fancy except it had a single non selective trigger very rare on these guns and a double bead on the rib. Dad was a Grouse hunter coming from the U.P. of Michigan so the gun had seen it's share of briars and brushy cover over the year's but he had always kept it spotless and well oiled. I had it re-blued and the case coloring redone as well as a new stock made to my specifications. The gun was also choked Modified and full and I had it opened up to skeet and improved modified. It turned out beautiful. I shoot 4 different guns during the season in 12,16 and 20 gauge. All SxS's. Today I carried Dad's gun as the season is just about at an end and I wanted to reminisce a little as I walked behind the Setter's remembering what it was like to first carry this gun.
It was mid December 2011. Bird numbers year to year were down in our area by more than 50% due to three very tough winters and this year's wet hatching season. This was bad news for the hunter's who traveled and hunted in groups as there just was not the numbers for these types of hunter's to be successful. There was a lot of complaining in the local coffee shop's and bars about bird numbers on a daily basis. The majority of these hunter's use close working flushing dog's primarily Lab's and like I said hunt in groups. But this was a year where the number's were down significantly and in order to find birds you had to really cover some ground in all types of cover. This was not the normal strategy for most of these hunter's so the reports from the field were dismal at best. I would add also that the average age of most of the hunter's out there spending a week or two bird hunting was probably around 50 and getting older every year. So most of these guys were used to the easy day's when CRP acre's were at all time high's and bird numbers were much higher as well.
The Setter's and I started our scouting in August as soon as the young birds were able to fly well enough to easily escape when flushed. I have a number of area's I use to check the population's of both Pheasant and Grouse. So when our scouting indicated significantly lower number's I knew our strategy was going to have to be to cover a lot more ground and cover I normally may have not hunted before. I made sure I had options for new ground as well traveling outside my normal range and avoiding the area's I knew got a lot of pressure from the gang hunter's or "shit birds" as I call them. This strategy had worked very well all season but we really covered some ground every time we went out. It was so much fun though as this was really hunting as I like it. The Setter's were perfect for this mission of finding what I would call a needle in a hay stack on many days searching to find where the birds were at. Conditions that frustrated most hunter's were great for us as I had the type of crew in big running pointing dog's to find what ever birds were about in a given area. And that we did all season long! Day after day! The Setter's were in great shape and I had lost more weight this season due to how much ground we had to cover. So by Mid December I was thinking of what favorite runs I'd like to make before we closed the book on the season and headed for ski country.
I had decided to make a run in Schell Butte Township on this day. It's a difficult run to begin with and in my scouting had also indicated very low numbers of birds. As a result I hadn't hunted this area except for the first two weeks of Sharptail season making a run a mile south. This is a beautiful place to end the day as the view of the rolling hills to the west as the sun sets is breath taking. So knowing this would be the last time we'd make this run till next year I decided to carry Dad's 20 gauge SxS to make it special.
My plan was to run all three Setter's to the west through corn stubble bringing them back to the east eventually pushing any feeding birds into a waterway and valley bordered by wheat stubble to the north. It was mid afternoon with overcast skies and just enough snow to track birds as we came through a section of corn stubble. There were lots of fresh tracks as we started out with the Setter's working close to the fence line to the west. I was hoping for a point as we moved ahead but the birds just ran out into the field from what I could see. There was just enough snow to make it slippery walking as we covered the field coming back to the east without a point but the Setter's were working and I could tell we had birds moving the whole time. I had shot a Rooster over Beau before lunch and with Mick played out somewhat by covering the corn stubble I decided to make the run through the waterway with Molly. So upon coming back to the Jeep I watered all the pup's putting up Mick and Beau much to their dismay and headed east with Molly and Dad's 20 gauge SxS.
Molly and I crossed the fence and headed east down through this pastured waterway of short grass and a winding waterway bordered with some bushes and wheat stubble to the north uphill. We had gone a third of a mile with Molly working the grass bordering the waterway and casting about both sides when she began tracking across the open towards the wheat stubble. There were some bushes on the edge and she eased up towards them interested but no birds. I suspected we had maybe moved a bird across here and into the wheat. That was the strategy in covering the corn stubble towards this area. The birds in this area had so much cover making it hard with low numbers to be really successful here but again that's why we covered so much ground trying to move birds to obvious cover hoping to eventually pin down whatever birds were there. I picked up my pace closing the distance between Molly and myself as she continued to search along the edge of this cover.
75 yards ahead was a small area on the edge of the wheat stubble with some cattails in a depression of the field. This was 30 feet wide and about a hundred feet long running north to south. Molly got more excited as we approached and soon came on point on the east side of this cover. She was rigid looking into the cattails as I slowly moved by her to the west. Nothing. But she remained there so I walked about looking at her sight line and nothing. I released her and let her work about staying close to her as she worked the perimeter expecting a flush at any time. But nothing again. I then walked right down through this area with her working about obviously on a bird but there was just nothing there. Just when I was standing on the outside in the wheat stubble I noticed her on point in the exact same area she pointed to begin with. I thought OK this must be it and slowly approached her. I walked ahead ready for the flush when suddenly there came a Rooster bursting out straight away to the east across the open wheat stubble. I shouldered Dad's 20 gauge and fired bringing the Rooster down for Molly 30 feet away! We walked over to the bird and I congratulated Molly on a job well done as we recovered our prize. I looked at Dad's 20 gauge and smiled to myself for a moment having recreated a little of the magic I experienced as a kid with that gun so many year's before.
We still had plenty of time left so we continued east along the edge of the wheat stubble and Molly worked down to the waterway and cast about coming back south tracking up to the bushes bordering the wheat. She was into birds again and I lost sight of her for a few seconds as she went around the front of the bushes. When I didn't see her from the high side I was standing on I made the decision to follow her around front. Moving very cautiously I stepped out onto the frozen waterway so as to not make any noise. After moving ahead 30 yards I spotted her on point along the edge of the brush! I moved up as far as I could on the frozen waterway to not spook the birds then came behind Molly and moved into position to flush. I moved ahead of her slightly and the Rooster bolted upward fighting to get above the brush. It rose straight up before turning into the wind and I fired bringing it down on the frozen waterway. A beautiful shot! Molly was quickly to the bird and picked it up completing her task. What a great moment! We sat down on the edge of the bank and took a moment to catch our breath thankful for one last run with Dad's 20 gauge. Then it dawned on me as I sat there with Molly,the bird on the ground between us, I never did fire that second barrel!
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| The way we were December 2011. We covered a lot of ground this season but always found birds. |
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