The Bittersweet Season

 For the past decade the setters and I have spent the majority of each year in anticipation of the sharptail grouse season in September. The first weeks of those seasons hold some of the most cherished memories of our time together in the field . Covey's holding tight for the setters with their silken hair blowing in the wind waiting for me to walk in to flush bird after bird. It was often common place to count 100 birds or more each day walking mile after mile waiting for the perfect points to fill our game bag. There are specific points and flushes over the years so perfect they are forever burned in my memory. In fact I admit to going back to the same spots just hoping to experience such perfection just one more time. But I'm afraid it's like wishing you could have one more day with someone you loved after they've passed on. Time stands still for nothing as they say.

The setters came into this season at age 11 turning 12 starting with Mick in October followed by Beau in January and then Molly the following June. I had run Beau frequently the prior season of 2013 because he just didn't seem to be affected by his age. It was really an incredible thing to observe. Of course I was grateful knowing we were well beyond that time most bird dogs of his size and days in the field lived to hunt another day let alone doing it without missing a beat. Because I love to cover a lot of ground hunting the big hills and open spaces Beau and I had spent day after day together that year.  However the clock was ticking and I knew it all to well. I had saved the close cover and easy walking for Mick and Molly during that season. They were grateful for every minute as we enjoyed each others company.

Knowing we were all a year older as September 2014 approached I tried to adjust my expectations for this season I knew was a gift beyond anything else. Still together day to day. Doing exactly what I dreamed about  while working a job for the better part of 30 years. Living and hunting with a trio of beautiful bird dogs.  Then the season of 2014 was finally here and I knew exactly what run I wanted to take Beau on. It was 2 miles of beautiful rolling hill pasture with deep bowls and hill sides sharptail love for protection from the wind and high points they use with incredible skill to survey their domain keeping them safe from approaching hunters and their capable bird dogs. From our starting point it was a 3/4 mile walk uphill into what I knew to be some of the best sharptail cover around. On this day we would have to circle around to come back into the wind heading west as we traversed the hills. We hadn't gone a quarter mile when I noticed first of all that the casts Beau was making were much shorter than normal. He's a tall lanky setter that just cruises the cover with head held high making him a great sharptail hunter often pointing at great distances. He'd come around and stop for just a minute looking at me before continuing on making sure of our direction I expect. It's not unusual in this type of cover for him to get out of my line of sight due to the hills and bowls. I then watched as he disappeared over a rise. I use Garmin tracking collars so I knew exactly where he was at however when I heard him bark I knew he had lost me. Again unusual as he hadn't been that far out and we were in open cover. I walked to the rise and looked out ahead seeing him standing a couple hundred yards out looking about with ears perked up. I called to him but he didn't seem to hear. I waved to him and got the same results. He just didn't seem to know where I was at although I was in plain sight. I just stood there looking at him and my eyes started to water. This is it I thought. The tipping point. In stature still an incredibly beautiful dog I thought as I continued walking toward him calling and waving until he could see and hear me. We had become so very close the last couple years as we spent more time one on one in the field. As I walked I then thought about how deeply I had gotten to know this dog over a period of time and how lucky I was to have actually lived with him. He had repaid me with what I can only describe as an intense loyalty. Also I must add the equivalent of an Ivy League education in handling this very special type of bird dog. Finally after closing more than half the distance between us he started to wag his tail letting me know he had located me. We had barely begun to turn into the wind at this point and my boots felt heavy due to the reality before me becoming clearer with each step forward. Such an incredible dog. So beautiful to watch surfing the wind for scent. What I was watching seemed to have happened so suddenly but was actually years in the making. The process of aging. Declining stamina and failing senses. It was an extremely difficult moment knowing we had finally crossed that line in time when there's no turning back.

Eventually we got into scent and found birds. Then there would be moments when all was right with our world once again. Sharptail are not commonly pursued by aging hunters and their old dogs. It's a game best enjoyed on a more level field of abilities. But the dance is one so beautiful as it unfolds between the players that it's hard to know when to stop and be content with your memories.

The Bittersweet Season

Over the weeks ahead I came to terms with the effects of time and became optimistic once again as I accepted who we were. Shooting birds for each setter. Hunting the best parts of the day. Stopping and just enjoying our time. This time that I had worked so hard for. This time that was now ours to enjoy in this "Bittersweet season".

For The Birds Along The Way

It's April 2015 and this will be our 6th year in this rural community within what's referred to as the German triangle of North Dakota an area largely settled by Germans from Russia. It's strictly farm and ranch country and insulated from any other opportunity for development in that way. When once asked about where I thought a hunter should ideally locate I replied "Find an area with the unlikely probability of any future development that happens to have favorable game bird habitat!" That pretty much sums up where I currently call home.

With a county population under 2000 people it takes a lot of cooperation and teamwork to support local clubs and causes. The same people donate countless hours to civic organizations like I've never seen. But that's the magic that makes their communities work and continue to be great places to experience the benefits of the small town rural lifestyle. It's easy to poke fun at these communities and the people but just read the national news headlines on any given day and it's not hard to understand why multiple generations choose to live and raise families in areas like this.

In April every year the local chapter of Pheasants Forever holds their annual fundraising banquet and auction. They generate funds for local habitat projects through memberships,sponsor donations and of course they're annual auction. I have never been a club type of person although I've been a member of various organizations over the year's. The main reasons for this being available time and an aversion to meetings! During my career I basically made a living attending meetings of one type or another with most of them being expensive colossal wastes of time for the organization for which I worked. These were mostly meant to be download sessions or intimidation exercises to shame the masses into improved performance! So in my retirement being all the wiser after decades in the business world meeting culture I simply cannot find it within myself to be an active member of any of these groups no matter what the cause is. I've been forever ruined for the type of service and compliance they require. But when I hear of a good controversy or argument made public at one of these civic meetings my ears perk up. You see I've learned decisions always arise out of conflict and right or wrong the agendas will never move along without them!

So the question for me was how do I support the organization my interests as an upland hunter are most closely aligned with? It's not only the organization itself but the actual people who donate countless hours of their time. Many of them happen to also be landowners who graciously allow me to hunt on their land. I've got enough gear to last a lifetime and then some so being an auction buyer doesn't make sense. In fact I dream of someday only having those possessions I can load into a pick up truck along with my bird dogs! I tried being an active member for a while but as I've related it's not my forte. The schedule of events and operations of a local club are pretty straight forward and don't change or require a lot of input. That's fine really. It also makes sense that landowner relations and habitat opportunities be handled and initiated by local people they already are familiar with. Maybe being involved on a different level might make sense but the simple facts are I'm just a pointing dog man at heart. My main objective is to have my boots on the ground walking behind my bird dogs! So then how do I show solidarity to the cause?

Well I hadn't lived here very long before word got around about my pie baking talents. With many many great cooks within this Russian German community that's something that they valued. One of the more creative members of the club then asked me if I'd consider making pies for the spring auction. Of course I said lets try it and we were off and running! Right up my alley. Creative,independent, and somewhat unconventional with no meetings required! It became over a period of the next few years a great novelty everyone looked forward to at this event attended by a few hundred people each year. People enjoyed just looking at the pies on display and would marvel at what they'd bring at auction. It was common for them to go for 25 to 75 dollars each. All for a great cause and an enjoyable way for me to show my support " For the birds along the way!"

"For The Birds Along The Way"

Shed No Tears

                                       It's spring 2015. The setters and I have been gone from the rolling farm country of Wisconsin since 2009. Our time there served it's purpose providing the preparation in many ways for our exodus to bird country. A secluded rural property was a perfect environment for raising pups.

                                       Over the course of 30 years as you would expect an area as beautiful as the driftless area of Wisconsin continued to be discovered for what it was. One of the most desirable places to live in rural America. Not far from population centers you were quickly in the wooded hills and valleys largely occupied by family owned dairy operations. No trespassing signs were a rarity in the seventies and eighties. You could experience excellent trout fishing and grouse hunting walking mile after mile crossing fences without much interference except maybe from a Holstein bull on occasion. A foe most certainly to not be underestimated. The deer herd had years earlier moved to this part of the state and flourished in the rich farmland country.
                                       In the early fall of 1981 my friend Peter and I walked back to the valley behind my property a half mile and had a wonderful grouse hunt walking the hillsides of the Love Creek valley. This was a classic section of grazed wooded pasture with thickets of brush and cover in between open areas under a canopy of mixed hardwoods. Peter loved those hills and spent most of his time with fly rod or his Ithaca 20 gauge in hand . His English setter was a constant companion. We cleaned the birds that day out behind the old barn at my place as we talked about dogs and grouse hunting. Peter shot 5 birds to my 2. Boy he was quick with that Ithaca!

The Love Creek Valley

                                      As interest rates eased during this time the migration into the hills and valleys by urban pioneers became more prevalent. Some with more money than others built on the hills so everyone could see their vision of beauty. These places became like the acne of the countryside and it spread from one valley to the next and from one ridge top to the next as family farms were sold off and divided. During this time the number of dairy farms in the state plummeted as the latest generation looked to the future and cashed in their chips while they could.

                                     What followed was no surprise. With each farm that was divided new signs went up. No Trespassing! Keep Out! No Fishing! No Hunting! "This is my 10 acres!" "This is my 40 Acres!" And so and so on. And "No you can't pick mushrooms either" people would say if you asked. No! No! No! Who the hell were these people I thought. City people moved to the countryside was the answer. A plague of sorts had come to the driftless area forever changing the landscape and the personality of the countryside.

                                     Depending on how you chose to enjoy your time outdoors determined I suppose how you viewed this transition and new reality. For a pointing dog man longing to walk mile after mile with his bird dog's it was no place to live. A place to seek refuge from time to time maybe but certainly not a place to confine a crew of beautiful animals bred to pursue every species of upland birds. As sportsman no matter what our passion we all dream of someday living within the ideal environment for our sport. The day we decide to follow our instincts and cross over the line making our passion a way of life is our day of reckoning. Some of us cross over and some of us continue to dream content with memories of our times in the field. Each side of the line has it's risks and rewards with either choice being right or wrong a deeply personal question.

                                     On a recent trip back to Wisconsin the setters and I drove through some of the territory reminding me of the early days before the wholesale transformation of the states dairy farm country.
When it was time to turn west and head for the high plains we now call home it felt good to have my back to the past. I'm glad for the days we were there and the great times we had but I "Shed No Tears" as we turned off the interstate and crossed over into bird country once again.

Back in bird country once again.

To Wave Or Not To Wave

                          My story about living in bird country wouldn't be complete without touching on the subject of etiquette in the field. One facet in particular on this subject is the custom of waving a friendly acknowledgement to passing vehicles as you come upon each other while driving down the rural farm to market,section line, and secondary roads. Over the years I have passed many hunters as I travel these roads which bring us all into the heart of bird country each fall. It's no surprise that we're not alone. We all share the same passion although each of us has our own style and strategy for enjoying the sport.

What we all do not share is good manners! As time passes I come across more and more hunters that find it acceptable to ignore an opportunity to signal a hello with a friendly wave and smile or maybe even stop to chat about the hunt. The license plates of these vehicles are from a variety of states with some even being local. The indifference and unfriendly nature of these hunters can be born out of a variety of frustrations and feelings. In my view there are no excuses. Treat others as you expect to be treated is how I was raised in a small mid western town. That lesson has served me well in and out of the field. I have shared many experiences with other hunters and met many good people along the way.The only thing that can ensure having great days in the field is a positive attitude starting with accepting that only you are responsible for your success or failure to do so.

Treating others with a friendly and positive attitude has it's rewards!

I'll share a story now about one of those conversations I had on a rural secondary road several years ago. My hunting partner and I were in southwestern Kansas in January on our last trip of the season. We had tried to find a way to access a remote section of river bed we were hoping held some coveys of bob white quail. Looking at our map we just couldn't seem to find access without running into posted land from every direction. So puzzled by this we decided to hunt a walk in area for pheasants on this morning with temperatures in the single digits but with lots of clear blue Kansas sky! Before we got to far in I spotted a red ranch truck coming our way. I yelled to Tom to head towards the road so we could talk to this guy as in these rural areas in the winter there's just not many folks around. We waved the truck down and walked over to the driver. He asked what the heck we thought we were doing out in such weather! The next thing he said was to my partner Tom " Hand me your gun" We thought now where is this going? Turns out Dave as we learned was fond of guns and knew Tom was carrying a nice Sterlingworth double at the time. He then gave us permission to cross his property to access the river bottom we were looking to hunt. He also said we could hunt the wheat stubble to the east of where we currently were if we wanted to take a chance that his wife wouldn't shoot us as she's mighty fond of the quail that feed in that field as they hang around the yard in the winter month's! Then before he drove off to bust holes in the ice on water tanks for his cattle he invited us to stop back at his house to let him know how we did. Tom was relieved to have gotten his gun back and we laughed about being introduced to Kansas hospitality. Dave later shared that based on his first impressions in talking to us that he respected us as serious hunters and appreciated that we took the time to talk with him and asked about permission to hunt.

That chance meeting happened to be with the owner of 10,000 contiguous acres of land. It made our trip a great experience and we learned many things about the area we would have otherwise struggled with. In fact that meeting turned into a friendship we will always remember. Dave and his wife Shirley invited us into their home on many occasions over the year's for lunch and supper even offering to freeze our birds for us. And it all started with a friendly wave and conversation!

I have learned much about bird hunting and bird dog's over time but most importantly will tell you that you can read all you want to educate yourself. Fill your head with data, harvest statistics and species characteristics. But most of what is really beneficial about any area you will ever hunt or any dog you will ever hunt with  is transferred from one person to another. Face to face. But this information isn't just given freely. You can't demand it and can't buy it. The holder or keeper decides if you're worthy of receiving it. How do they decide? It has everything to do with your attitude and respect for other people. Indifference and arrogance will never get you through the gate!

So my advice is simple and my message short. It all starts with an attitude and decision. "To Wave Or Not To Wave".

                          

A Molly Monday Morning

                                 By early October we'd been grouse hunting for a few weeks in warmer than normal temperatures this year. You then pick and choose the days and times you head for the field based on conditions your dog's can tolerate. With my trio of aging Setter's I have to be especially careful to not let them over heat in the warm weather. As for bird populations this year there's not enough birds for a truckload of hunter's to enjoy shooting like it used to be but for a retired bird hunter and his aging bird dog's there's enough to satisfy an old dog's desire to work one more bird.

Molly had been retired from active duty for a couple season's now but I still work these old dog's in the field letting them hunt at their own pace on walks they can easily handle. Just because they can't cover ground like they used to doesn't mean they've lost the desire or ability to find birds so I owe them these times as pay back for all the miles they covered for me in the past when they were in their prime. After all I need the exercise as much as they do!

We all grow old people and dog's alike. Life changes. But we can still enjoy it and everything around us just in a little different way. I've learned a little from seeing the Setter's grow old in that accepting and embracing the stages of life enables you to keep enjoying it versus spending your days lamenting times gone by. What a waste that is really. Life is and always will be about now. About the moment.

The rotation for the morning hunt was for Molly to spend some time with me on this day. It was sunny and clear just one of those mornings that make you want to be outside. The Setter's keep track of who's turn it is I swear. So when I started to get dressed Molly kept an eye on me and when I reached for my boots she made her move putting her nose right in my face as if to say "Please don't leave without me!" She kept nuzzling me as I struggled to lace my boots knowing what "boots" mean. Next step after getting on my gear was to put a collar on the dog fortunate enough to get to go along. Molly sat right in front of me offering up her head to receive the collar as I slipped it over her ears. Of course Beau and Mick also then took the stance but I told them "You stay" and they reluctantly surrendered they're lobbying knowing it was Molly's day. The next task was to get out of the house. You see there's always that heart wrenching final effort of the pups to try to go along even though they've been told to stay today. But I know they'll be asleep on the couch minutes after Molly and I leave dreaming away so I don't feel to bad. Besides I don't know many bird dog's that lead the kind of life they do!

Molly has always been a joy to be around. She knows the routines well and obediently loads up into the Jeep. She takes the back seat her normal spot but I encourage her to take shotgun beside me as this is our time I say to her as she gives me her look of approval as I help her into position in the front seat. Off we go down the street out of town as she sits proudly riding shotgun on this beautiful morning. I crack the window a little giving her the fresh air and a little breeze as we drive the ten miles or so to our run.

We turn off the main road and hit gravel which gets her attention. It never ceases to amaze me how keenly the Setter's use associative behavior skills to identify what's happening. It's fun to observe. A couple more miles and we turn into a dirt road and soon find a spot to pull off to the side. We're here. My plan is to take a walk along this old trail with ditches filled with cattails then walk uphill along a waterway through an adjacent pasture. All easy walking for Molly giving her a chance to enjoy the feeling of once again walking with me in the field. And if we see a bird or two that would make it all the better.

It was just beautiful out with no wind at all and temperatures in the upper 40's as we proceeded walking down the path. There were ducks on the water to our right and sounds of geese flying over head. With no one else to be seen we walked together with Molly working her nose into the cover for about a 100 yards. I had been looking to the south east at some cover on an adjacent hill side thinking about prospects for another day as this is an area I hunt quite often. When I turned back to Molly ahead of me 30 yards she was froze! Rock solid on point with the most intense look on her face looking into the brush and grass to the left side of the path. What have we here I thought as I cautiously approached. Closer and closer I came until I was right there. I walked right in and kicked ahead of me when a beautiful rooster cackled his way into the air flying straight north. I quickly fired before he could veer off to the right into the heavy grass ahead and he fell hard just on the other side of the fence in the open pasture to the west. Molly made her way over inspecting the rooster lying still in the grass as I made my way under the fence. She laid down then panting to catch her breath as I came upon her and knelt down to pick up the bird and compliment her on a job well done.

It was a beautiful moment that meant so much to an aging bird dog to once again take in the scent of a wild rooster in the early morning sun on this October day. We walked on for an hour or so through the pasture stopping frequently for Molly to catch her breath. Occasionally she'd cast out farther than usual and quicken her pace when the cover looked more promising but eventually she'd have to stop again to catch her breath. I just enjoyed watching her knowing her desire to hunt would never go away. We stopped on the way back to the Jeep as we rested for a while. I then took the bird out for her laying it on the ground between us as an unspoken tribute to our time together on this beautiful " Molly Monday Morning".

The Old Boar's Club

                           In rural America there exists in virtually every town an entity as vital to these communities as any other institution you can think of bar none. They are the rural farmer cooperatives or co-ops for short. They are the farm and ranch source for everything to do with agribusiness. As production capability on the farm and ranch has grown so have these co-ops in terms of the products and services they offer.With annual sales in the millions of dollars some things surely have changed dramatically for the co-ops but nothing will ever change the colorful and at times comical personality of their clientele. The character of these places will be forever rural, plain, and simple. At least on the surface.

Every fall I have the oil changed in my two vehicles putting in lighter weight oil for the cold winter month's. Usually I wait until it really starts to get cold which this year was the first week of November when the weather turned on a dime from unseasonably warm to well just plain cold. I learned fairly quickly that if a person wanted to get their oil changed at the co-op it required an appointment a few days in advance of when it would actually get done. This puzzled me when I went in the first couple of times and was directed to the shop foreman an easy going likeable guy that never seemed to be in a hurry despite the activity going on around the shop. When I asked when I could get my oil changed he looked down at a mostly empty schedule and said how about Tuesday afternoon? This was Thursday. Ok I guess was my reply. As I looked around the shop I noticed a guy I knew that lived across the alley from me that I was aware had a cognitive disability. Gary would be called retarded by most folks. He kept walking around in and out of the shop not really doing anything but appearing to have something important on his mind. I later learned from my neighbor that Gary's uncle Roy used to manage the co-op and allowed Gary to come to the Co-op everyday and allowed him to make the coffee and take out the garbage in exchange for having someplace to go where he felt a part of something. Everybody liked this guy and he knew everyone that came in the door obviously as they kidded him in some way. Gary couldn't really talk clearly so you never knew what exactly he was trying to say but it was meant to be friendly you could tell. This all had been going on for 40 or 50 year's I suppose. As I was leaving through the front of the store I also had to walk by a row of 6 vinyl chairs with chrome arms connected together like a row of movie seats that directly faced the counter as folks came through the front door. These were filled with older gentleman I recognized from around town mostly in their mid 70's to early 80's I'd say. One of them was usually asleep but they all had cups of coffee and would acknowledge everyone that came in the door and start up conversation about one thing or another. I again had asked my neighbor what the deal was with these guys always being at the co-op and he explained in a short sentence." The coffee's free".

After a couple year's of doing business at the co-op for small hardware needs and gasoline I became pretty familiar with the character of this place. Everything you do in a sparsely populated county and small town is made into a social opportunity you see. I was still impatient with the ritual of appointments well in advance of oil changes until one cold winter day my Jeep battery had obviously worn out. I checked the date on the battery and sure enough I was past due for a new one. I called Cal the shop foreman at the co-op to check if he had one that would fit and he said yes. Would you like me to bring it over? I was surprised that he offered but said sure I'd really appreciate that. So 10 minutes later he pulled up with a helper and also pulled the old one out and replaced it with the new battery. No charge for the service! I went back down to settle up shortly thereafter and again thanked him for helping me out. I got the same laid back response I always got but after that I guess it sunk in that there is a way things get done here and you're never going to change it so accept it and plan accordingly! Which I have. I even got to know the "Old Boar's" as I referred to them those being the old timer's that filled the seats every morning and afternoon drinking free coffee till their eye balls float. As for Gary the coffee maker I appreciated how a business and a community takes care of people like this allowing them to be a part of the everyday routine like anybody else.

The last couple year's have seen some "Old Boar's" pass the torch. One being a neighbor a block away and another a nice guy that always taught gun safety to the kids every year. But as new Boar's retire from their jobs or farming careers they quickly fill the open spots. The daily ritual continues sparked by free coffee and a constant flow of people in and out the door giving them an endless list of subjects to analyze and information to absorb and dispense. Anyone that ever said women like to talk and gossip didn't have it right! Men have far more ability to run off at the mouth just to hear themselves talk than any woman I have ever met or known! And the one thing that is like throwing gas on the fire with the "Old Boar's" is free coffee!!

Well back to my annual fall oil changes. I went in to talk to the shop foreman in person because remember it's all about socializing right? "When could I get my Jeep's oil changed?" I asked. He looked at the schedule that didn't have anything on it I could see and surprisingly said "How about this afternoon?" "Great. Why don't you come at 2 o'clock then." He said. Before I left I mentioned that I also needed to get the van's oil changed but that could wait not wanting to appear to demanding. Again I got a surprise when he said "We could do that tomorrow if you want". As I drove home I thought this is like a break through! I seem to be moving up a notch on the priority list here. But what this meant was that I'd have to hang around the co-op two days in a row while my oil was being changed which takes a little more than an hour because that's the way they do it you see. So if you haven't guessed it also meant I'd have to sit with the "Old Boar's" two days in a row for afternoon coffee!!

Day one. I arrive at the set time after driving into the garage and head for the waiting area. The co-op expanded and remodeled their office area this year so the movie seats the Old Boar's used were now moved into what served as a waiting area for shop customers as well as a miscellaneous storage area. It was empty when I walked in but within a few minutes one of the Boar's walked in saying hello and taking a seat with his coffee. I've known Carl since I moved here. He's a friendly guy about 5'5 and pretty thin, kind of fidgety, and maybe one of those people that can't stand being quiet! There was a bag of cake donuts maybe 50 or so on top of a small freezer and Carl said " I wonder if Gary's gonna "Put out" those donuts?" "Don't know" I replied. He then fired the usual questions at me like how was I. What had I been doing and what was I doing here today. You see he had to have some basis for further questioning! It wasn't long after that that Harold walked in yet another club member. He sat down with his coffee after saying Hello to me and then asked. 'Is Gary gonna put out those donuts? Carl said. "Well I was just wondering the same thing." Harold's a nice guy and I know he love's to fish so I asked him how the ice fishing was going and we talked around that for a few minutes while Carl fidgeted. Then Carl's brother,another member, walked in and went right for the donuts opened the bag picked up a donut took a bite and turned around saying. "Anybody want a donut?" They all know I bird hunt full time so the question of how I'd been doing came up. I'm not naive about where any information I might give them would go or be shared with whom so my usual answer of it's been ok I guess not quite as good as last year but if a guy hunts hard enough..... They of course would of loved some hard numbers as to how many birds I shot but I never ever ever tell that to anybody. Truth be told I don't count anyway but some do and then tell about it usually when they've been drinking if you know what I mean.

Day Two. I brought the Van down and drove it in explaining to the shop foreman I had my own oil as I always put in synthetic Mobil One. On I went then to the waiting area. Here sat a room full of the Boar's all with Coffee and Donuts! Carl looked up surprised and said. "So what's wrong today now?" Having seen me here yesterday. "Another oil change." I said. Then his brother came in right after me and looked at me and said. " Well you must be really bored if you're back down here today with us!" " Another oil change" I said." Oh well you can get a cup of coffee if you want it's right out there at the counter" So I sat down in the midst of a full meeting of the afternoon "Boar's Club" listening to topics like who complained the most when they paid their taxes or that the farm bill is actually included in the welfare budget! That was a hoot especially since we were at the farmers co-op drinking free coffee! And then there was quite a discussion on how much profit the guy at the convenience store makes on a gallon of gas. Not to be left out were a couple of anecdotal stories about some wealthy local people who made a fuss over their tax assessments. "It's the ones with the most that always complain the loudest" Somebody said. And a story about a guy who got really upset the other day and almost started crying because another guy yelled at him for repeatedly having to check the cards to make sure the score was correct while playing Pinochle!! I knew all the people that were the subjects of conversation and just marveled at the routines these guys have. I thought I know why they're down here or sitting around playing cards all day. They're wives won't allow them to hang around the house!

Luckily when I got up to check on my van it was just being pulled out of the garage. Windows cleaned interior vacuumed and fresh oil. All was good with my world but the real bonus was a further glimpse into this tight knit German culture. I enjoyed the story telling and the joking. Like they say you can't make this stuff up! The "Old Boar's Club" that is.



 

Beau's Nose

                                       The third week of October found me headed back to a familiar area in search of a population of sharptail grouse. As I've written before this area was one I'd frequented in past year's and always was sure to hold several coveys of grouse most times of the year. But over time land use shifted then winters and cold spring hatching weather took their toll on bird populations. I then found other areas closer to home where I could find birds. With the Setter's aging this season I found myself enjoying going back to these old haunts trying to find the magic we once experienced as we put on mile after mile traversing these beautiful hills over the last decade.

 On this run the Setter's and I pulled into a hay field to park south of the old Honey Hole. My plan was to hunt a 2 square mile area of cover featuring hills, sloughs, pot holes and some fields of corn stubble. When land use shifts so does the behavior pattern of the birds making it a daunting task especially with sharptail to determine where they've decided to set up house keeping in this big open country. Just because they no longer are where you used to find them doesn't mean they're gone. They've been in North Dakota for hundreds of year's, are built for the cold winter's, and for the hunter willing to work hard enough they can prove to be a serious challenge for the best of shooters as well as pointing dog's.

The objective today was to locate the population of birds within this large area of diverse cover. I knew they were here and in good numbers no doubt but before I found out exactly where I'd have to do some walking. My boots hit the ground mid afternoon on this day with partly cloudy skies and temperatures in the 40's. I'd spent the morning to the east walking the edges of some soy bean fields with all 3 Setter's on the ground. We'd picked up 2 sharptail on a beautiful point with Beau leading and Molly and Mick honoring in some dark green weedy vegetation on the edge of a bean field. I had missed another opportunity on a point by Molly as we walked a section line road next to a wheat stubble field. So Mick and Molly were played out leaving this run for Beau and myself to close out a beautiful day in the field.

I had a pretty good idea of where the birds I was looking for were feeding which was at the back of this run to the south along the corn stubble at the crest of a hill where the field met the grass. But in order to get there I had to walk around several pot holes not always in the direction I wanted to go as I made my way around this maze of water obstacles. Truth be told they could be anywhere but I was betting on the food source being the key. If we pushed birds out of the stubble we had a pretty good chance of working them within this area on the way back to the Jeep. Beau was really in his element here surfing the cover and casting back and forth at will. He's big, lanky, and loves to open up and cruise the wind making him a perfect dog to hunt sharptail with or any bird for that matter but I always love to see him set a covey of sharptail at a distance with his head held high in the wind. That's why after already putting on a few miles this morning I couldn't go home without looking for these birds on this afternoon.

Beau head up and nose into the wind. Birds ahead!

We'd been at it for about an hour and a half. Beau had worked some birds that had been moving in some heavy grass most likely pheasants but we'd yet to get anything to hold. This season I'd watched many times as the Setter's just couldn't get out ahead of running birds to cut off they're advances. It was bittersweet watching knowing they knew what to do but just couldn't get it done anymore. Beau was doing his best casting in circles in one particular area for a while but to no avail. We'd come to the crest of several high points perfect for sharptail but had not seen them either. So we crested another hill about halfway to the corn stubble and descended towards an oblong group of cattails about a 150 yards long and 40 yards wide. It was fairly close to a large pot hole and about a third of a mile from the corn stubble. I then had a feeling of dejavu as we approached. Once working around the cattails I remembered. We had run this area last year around the same time and I had missed a clear shot at a  rooster flying across these very cattails. With Beau.
So at attention I watched as Beau worked around the perimeter of this cover. About halfway around he stopped and with nose to the ground began wagging his tail. This means "Hey! There was a bird right here just a couple seconds ago!" When he gets his nose down it also means I had better keep up because the birds running and could fly any second. So with this feeling of dejavu hovering over me I hurried along keeping sight of Beau along the cattails. Then suddenly he pulled up and froze! In the next instant up comes a rooster rising like a 747 above the cattails moving right to left. I shouldered my gun and picked a spot just ahead of the rooster pulling the trigger all in one fluid motion. I was surprised actually to see the bird go down hard in the thick of the cover having squandered the very same shot last year. I stood for a couple moments marking the spot before calling Beau to come around. 35 yards ahead I started to look down around me and there he was in front of me exactly as I had marked the shot. I knelt down to pick him up as Beau stuck his nose in to inspect the bird now in hand as if to give his approval.

We continued on for a quarter mile when I realized there was another water obstacle between us and the corn stubble not visible from the start of our run. I was unable now after all this walking to get to where I wanted to go so logging the route we'd need to take next time as I looked around we started circling back. We'd gone another few hundred yards when I spotted a pair of sharptail flying high back toward the Jeep. When I looked to the west to see where they might have come from my eyes went right to the edge of the corn stubble we couldn't reach as a group of a couple dozen sharptail started flushing and following the same flight path as the birds I had just seen. I just stood there and watched as they floated to the east trying to see where they set down. I lost them as they floated over the highest point in this 2 square mile area. My best guess was that this was not a coincidence but where they commuted back and forth from the food source. My legs were now starting to burn with fatigue every time we'd go uphill or meet resistance in heavy cover. Beau's casts were getting shorter so we stopped for a few minutes to catch our breath and think about how to approach the area I thought might get us on top of those sharptail.

Taking a break on the prairie with Beau

Once I picked a line for approach we still had to go up and down a few steep hills to get to where I had in mind. The leeward side of this big hill. This is the side tucked out of the wind offering protection to the birds and probably where they planned to roost for the night. It was going on 5 o'clock now with the sun getting noticeably lower in the sky. With possibly the best opportunity of the day ahead in the grassy slopes of this big hill I was now struggling to put one foot in front of the other! I was finally there and at a point where I had to decide to go around the hill and approach from the south, go straight ahead to the top and down or straight ahead slightly to the north and side of the hill. I had no other choice than to continue on the line I was on because I was simply exhausted. We moved forward at a point 2/3 of the way from the peak of the hill betting the birds were at the spot just where the hill started to flatten. Beau worked the area getting birdy as I noted spots with scat where the birds had spent the night so I was hopeful I had made the right call. However after working the whole area to the south east of that peak we found no birds so I worked Beau back up to higher ground again. We didn't get 50 yards when the whole group started flushing a few at a time from a point 1/3 of the way down from the top of that hill. It was a beautiful sight as they all flew to the east and north. I had missed the spot by just a hundred yards or so and they'd undoubtedly watched us the whole time from their vantage point.

Beau dreaming of sharptail grouse while napping in the afternoon sun

I felt good knowing they were still there and I gained a little more respect for these birds and the places they call home. One foot ahead of the other I made my way painfully back to the Jeep with Beau not giving up but working every edge as we moved forward. Mick and Molly spotted us a few hundred yards out and started their welcome by barking and yipping as we approached. We'd accomplished our objective of finding the sharptail again and I'd gotten a second chance at a rooster flying across that slough I'd missed last year owing it of course once again to "Beau's Nose".

Just Like Old Times

                       It had been about a week since Beau had made a turn around eating as much as I would put in front of him now. What a relief to see this dog come around one more time. However not knowing how long this recovery would last at age 12 I had decided to start letting him back in the field. Now with him still recovering all 3 Setter's moved at about the same pace with Beau always pushing the lead of course. So I'd pick appropriate cover for them to work without much resistance hoping to corner some birds and get everybody out in the fresh air again. Together.

On this overcast day in November my plan was to run across a bean stubble field that had several rock piles, small depressions with cattails, and weedy cover. At the north end a mile and a half away there was also a nice narrow waterway we'd walk before turning west for a while and then back south along a fence line ending back towards the Jeep. Most hunters would look at this route and scratch their heads about walking across a bean stubble field that looked pretty bare but my advantage living here and hunting this area throughout the season as it changes is that I know the birds patterns. All the out of state hunters hunt along a waterfowl production area bordering the big lake and walk down the section line adjacent hunting the ditches. Well it doesn't take the birds very many times being repeatedly flushed out of those areas to adopt alternate plans!

You have to also know I'm looking for a perfect moment. A beautiful picture and experience not just an opportunity to empty my gun of super magnum shells at a wild rooster as he flushes from the reeds. I want the birds best game on his terms pitted against my willing and beautiful Setters and I'll add my average shooting skills!

Sure enough as we made our way into the bean field here comes two "out a stater's" as the locals call them, dressed in full camo upland hunting after obviously finishing banging away at some ducks this morning. Right on down the old section line road with their flushing dog's in tow. They were coming towards me but I kept walking in their direction for a while until I got to where I turned on this run into the stubble to the north west. They must have been puzzled as to where I was going as I walked across the bare stubble with 3 bird dog's but the field rises and dips so you actually can't see most of the small areas of cover unless you actually walk the field which is the case with a lot of these spots looking at them from the roads. We skirted several of these areas of cover with tracks visible in the snow as we made our way to a spot which had been an old homestead which was now just some brush, bits of old machinery and pieces of the foundation here and there amongst the weeds and grass. The Setter's are experts at identifying cover so as we approached this spot in the field they quickened their pace with Beau in the lead. I followed suit of course. As soon as Beau got to the edge of this cover his head came up as he surfed the wind. This sign was immediately picked up by Mick  and Molly. That was the joy in this hunt today not knowing a week earlier if we'd ever be able to do this together again or not. I'm talking about hunting as a team. Reading each others body language and working together to hunt these birds culminating in a point and a successful shot. As I watched it began to unfold. Beau slowed as he came to the corner. Mick and Molly had caught up stopping one behind the other as Beau became rigid with his head high looking to the west. I was 40 yards behind at this point but closing in fast. Just as I got behind Molly Beau eased up and slowly walked forward followed by the other dog's. The birds had moved . I came around and we all walked through this weedy cover with no birds present. Beau then picked up the scent and trailed it across the stubble 50 yards to the next area of heavy cover in the field which was part of the waterway I mentioned earlier. All 3 Setter's now knew by watching each other and picking up the same scent that we had birds right here! They cautiously moved about when Beau froze looking to the south but Mick and Molly were facing another direction doing the same! What I figured I had was a few birds all in the same area. I walked around with nothing flushing and the Setter's not willing to move. A few more steps and all hell broke loose! First a couple hens then one more then one, two, three more and I was still just waiting. Waiting for the rooster! Sure enough after several seconds of delay here he came just a beauty flushing right in front of Beau going to my right. I quickly dropped him hard and waited cautiously but there were no more as all 3 Setter's converged on the bird.

We continued on but this single moment is exactly what we're out here for. It couldn't have been any better and we got to do it one more time! Together." Just Like Old Times! "

Screeeech!

                    It was early in the sharptail season when Beau and I loaded up the Jeep and headed east to some old haunts we hadn't visited in a few year's. The weather had been pretty warm so far so I chose this cold overcast day to make our way to a run called the Honey Hole in year's past. This is what's called prairie pot hole country. A swath of North Dakota peppered with pot holes of various sizes creating habitat for a variety of species including Grouse and Huns, otherwise known as Hungarian Grey Partridge, which were on our radar today. Amongst the pot holes are rolling hills with plenty of high points favored by grouse as breeding areas or Leks as they're called. Since they use sight as a main defense mechanism these hilly areas are prime habitat when bordered by crop and hay fields which they use to raise their broods.

This section we pulled into on a dirt road I had hunted many times and have written about over the year's. When it was a hayfield with adjacent hills and crops the grouse loved it in the early season. It was the kind of place I'd look at and think I'd just like to hunt that because it's a beautiful place. Truth be told often times those are the eyes through which I view the places I hunt. I want an experience that includes a multitude of factors not just those centered around shooting a "limit"of birds.

The hayfield has been gone now for 5 year's having been rotated to small grains with this year's crop being soybeans. So once harvested there is virtually no cover here except what's available around rock piles and the narrow band of cattails that circle every low spot or slough. There is however a shelter belt that was planted in an L shape running the entire east side about a 1/3 of a mile with a mix of cedar trees and bushes. This shelter belt is what I had in mind being just about 5 feet tall now it offered some nice cover right next to a food source. Plus I just wanted to put my boots on the ground here once again walking along thinking about those days when everything seemed to be just right. The setting. The habitat. The bird population. And my beautiful Setter's in their early year's full of life and desire to hunt creating beautiful scenes almost surreal at times as they cast about in the alfalfa then suddenly all together coming to a point in the open cover strung out in a line.

We parked on the north end of the shelter belt a half mile off the road and planned to work south up and back. Beau was ready to stretch his legs so I let him out and got myself set up for our run. There are also Huns or Partridge that use this area along with Pheasants so while I was hoping to have sharptail for supper we also were scouting to see what kind of other birds were around. The Pheasant season opener was still 3 weeks away at this point but Huns were fair game just hard to come by.

As we walked the shelter belt on the east side the cover looked great with a strip of alfalfa separating the other half. A light rain had started and I was hoping this cover would hold some birds given the weather. Beau was casting in and out between the rows and since I use a Garmin GPS collar on my Setters I'm never worried about losing sight of him. He rarely will bump a bird anyway as he's very very careful not to push a bird once he reads scent on the wind. As I walked along he disappeared for a few moments as we crested a slight rise in the terrain. I looked out ahead and couldn't find him so I pulled out my Garmin which told me he was ahead about 50 Yards south slightly to my left on point! With my eyes focused in that direction I quickened my pace or as my friend Dennis calls it made a "surge" ahead. As I came closer I caught sight of him turned in a kind of twist and looking right under a cedar tree. This was getting exciting I thought and as I decided on my approach I thought possibly a pheasant or a covey of Huns with Grouse being my last expectation with the bird having held so long already. I went ahead on the opposite side of the tree from Beau knowing it was a toss up anyway. I stomped in and nothing happened. I turned around 360' at the ready when it happened. A flutter of wings and "screeching" with a dozen or so Huns splitting into 2 groups as they flew one forward arcing to the right and the other to the left and behind me. I chose the leading bird on the forward advancing group missing twice! Beau had held all through this obviously with his nose right on the covey under that cedar tree. You would think it was an easy shot but I tell you more times than not these small birds are very hard to get an advantage on. But what a beautiful sight in different shades of red and brown.

We saw no other birds in the shelter belt and as we walked to the end a truck came off the road I identified as the local federal warden obviously in the area because a waterfowl production hunting area borders this run to the south. I came out to the road and talked with him for a while. When I said I was hunting for grouse in the area today he suggested I go east a few miles. Little did he know how well I knew those hills he was talking about! I said yes that's where I think we'll head but I just want to check the waterfowl production area, which was a small parcel, for any pheasants while I'm here. I asked if he wanted to see my license but he said "No thank you just go ahead. I'm checking for waterfowl hunters today." I noticed his dash video camera was on so he had my vehicle plate recorded as he went up and back down the road anyway I thought if he wanted to check on me.There just are not enough of these guys to deal with the people that think since North Dakota is such a sparsely populated and rural area anything goes. So I actually like seeing them out there.

Beau and I then circled the waterfowl production area where he pointed 3 roosters for me to my surprise as the pheasant population had taken quite a hit here due to 3 severe winters in this area. It looked like one carry over bird and two birds of the year so a successful hatch here possibly. Good news! We walked on back to the north with the rain coming a little more steady as we arrived at the Jeep and loaded up.

This was a good day as I looked over at Beau before we started to head in the direction the Warden talked about. We got some scouting done and had a beautiful point and flush on a full covey of Huns. A treat on any day just to see them rise and hear their signature "Screeeech!"

Together Again Thanksgiving 2014

           In late October my son Carson called letting me know he and my son Jared were planning to spend Thanksgiving hunting with me here in North Dakota. I was excited to get the news as we hadn't all been together out here hunting before and with the Setters now all turning 12 this year it'd be great to get a hunt in while all the dog's were still physically able to be in the field. Carson had hunted Thanksgiving with me here in 2010 and 2011 but before you know it we all just get busy with our lives and time becomes a real premium so I really appreciated the news about this visit.

Together Again Thanksgiving 2014

Carson and Molly Thanksgiving 2011

Carson Thanksgiving 2010

Just like it was no easy task for the boys to work around schedules at work and home to get here for 3 days it also made some work for me as well in preparation. I needed an inventory of terrain to hunt with them that hopefully still held some birds late in the season and would give Jared's new Lab pup Yuba an opportunity to get some experience on wild birds. I had spent a week with Yuba at 4 months old this spring here in North Dakota while Jared and Carson were on a fly fishing trip in Montana so I was looking forward to seeing her perform in a hunting situation at 10 months. I walked some new ground and observed the progress of the harvest looking at some areas with corn that would still be up into November protecting the birds living along the waterways within the sections of crop land. These areas were the best targets as they would have received the least amount of pressure from the prime time hunters that typically hunt the first two weeks of the season. The real advantage of living in bird country is you get to watch the progress of the harvest and time your hunts around when the crops come off. I found a couple remote runs tucked away off the secondary roads that were just perfect. We could spend several hours in each area with adjacent cover available as well.

As days went by prior to Thanksgiving the weather turned extremely cold and fields filled with several inches of snow slowing the harvest to a standstill. This froze the sloughs earlier than normal which gave me an opportunity to hunt some areas difficult to traverse otherwise giving me a few more options depending on how we did elsewhere.

The sloughs froze early creating some great hunting opportunities

Beau had suddenly quit eating around the end of October and went into a quick decline. I had been through digestive tract ailments with him a few times before and never was able to get a definitive answer as to what the trigger was. The best impact I ever had on his health was getting him on a grain free high quality dog food. I had run him extensively the previous year and he'd gotten really thin as he always did but when I finally switched foods after doing some research having been frustrated with the Vets inability to help me I couldn't believe the change in him. He started looking great obviously absorbing more nutrients I expected. So suddenly he was in jeopardy again and I was beside myself watching him decline day after day. I spoon fed him water and anything I could get in him which for over a week was nothing. Slowly he came around and I got a few soft eggs in him then a half can of food then more water with each day. The day I was upstairs and turned around to see him looking at me I knew he was back having climbed the stairs himself. I'm recounting these days because in the midst of my preparation for the boys visit I had this very difficult prospect of losing one of the best hunting companions I'd ever had. So with Molly impaired by a lung tumor restricting her breathing and Beau narrowly surviving this mystery ailment my shot gun riding companion Mick who just turned 12 in October was suddenly pressed into full time service once again!

Mick had no complaints filling in for Beau while he recovered!

With Beau still on house arrest while he recovered Mick and I had some great runs together scouting areas that may have promise for the boys visit. I wanted to have options as the weather could really change conditions quickly. Molly joined us occasionally as well and to my surprise we usually picked up a bird. My expectations became to just enjoy the time together. I slowed down adjusting to the pace the Setters could maintain. We stopped frequently and just took it all in. I eventually shed the dark cloud hanging over my head with the prospect of losing Beau and just took things a day at a time. Then a week before Thanksgiving I was putting on my gear getting ready to head out with Mick and Beau started to howl at me! This is his usual antic when he feels he needs to remind me he wants to go along. It was a kind of a hoarse howl at first but within a few days became stronger. Then it wasn't long before he was trying to boss me around with his howl! I'd put a coat on he'd howl. Open the door howling again. Pick up a gun even louder howling! So I finally started letting him go along again on easy walks all the Setters could navigate. What fun that was to just to be back together. So with the boys visit days away now we were once again running on all cylinders slowly but we were still walking into the wind!

Beau howled his way back into the field! Leading the way pointing a group of seven birds on this run!

Another area of preparation was of course Thanksgiving dinner! The only way I could do this was to have everything cooked ahead as we'd be in the field as much as possible. I did some quick thinking and moved a banquet table onto the front porch where it was plenty cold planning to lay out all the food in a buffet style so whenever anyone was ready you could just make a plate and pop it in the oven. The menu included smoked turkey, ham, meatloaf, gravy, creamed garlic cauliflower, homemade dinner rolls, 4 pies and twice baked potatoes! Quite a sight in itself I must admit. It was all fun in anticipation of us spending some time together.

The boys would be on the road early Thursday morning leaving from Minneapolis. Carson had arrived the night before from Madison WI and spent the night with Jared and his wife Jordan. Their ETA was 1:30 p.m. and I had the Jeep ready with all the gear we needed. The weather was single digits with 20 mph winds the worst you could ask for but that's North Dakota. You just make the best of it. The plan was to just get a run in to let Jared's pup get oriented before we tackled the longer and more promising runs I had in the inventory for the next day.

The boys arrived right on schedule and after saying our hello's we got unloaded and loaded to go in short order. It was a funny sight with all 3 Setter's packed in the back with Carson and Jared sitting in front with me along with his pup on his lap! What a crew we made. I headed to a spot I could let Carson and Jared walk with Yuba that contained both pheasants and sharptail while I walked some small areas of cover within some adjacent corn stubble. Carson had made this run with me two years prior during a Thanksgiving visit so he was familiar with the ground. It was a mile east and then a quarter mile or so south before turning back west along some cattail waterways. I got a hundred yards from the Jeep and turned to look for Beau and he was just sitting down looking at me then started barking. In his language there was no way in hell he was going out in this wind at 7 degrees! I walked back and put him in the Jeep wondering how the boys were finding the extreme conditions. I knew the birds would be hunkered down in those cattails so it was worth giving it a try. I continued on my run for 45 minutes before turning back into the bitter wind and heading for the Jeep hoping the boys had done the same. I heard one shot ring out as I made my way across the stubble and worked to a slough 100 yards from the Jeep. As soon as we approached the cattails both Mick and Molly raised their heads picking up scent. It was subtle but after years hunting these dog's I've learned these subtle nuances and sure enough after a couple more steps they both went rigid side by side in the wind and cold. I pushed ahead in the thick cattails waist high and a flutter of wings beating the cover brought forth a rooster making his way right to left. It was a good 15 yard shot and he went down right ahead of me. The Setters moved in right away and went on point again but slightly ahead of where I had marked the bird. I moved in and Mick was looking straight down into the matted mass of cattails in front of me so I parted the vegetation slowly in front of him and sure enough there was the rooster sitting in the cover! I quickly grabbed him as he still had some fight left in him then showed our prize to Mick and Molly complimenting them on a job well done.

We made our way back to the Jeep and walked down the gravel road a ways to see if we could see Carson and Jared coming through the waterway to the east. Sure enough just cresting the top of the knoll they were making their way towards us. Yuba didn't look at all tired out. No surprise there! Young pups are so much fun as they discover what this game is about. As we all reached the Jeep we talked about the birds the boys saw starting with a covey of grouse a couple hundred yards in on the fence line followed by a larger group of grouse to the east and a nice group of pheasants in a depression along the cattails There was just one shot and a miss as all the birds spooked ahead pretty much but they were there! I thought I'd see if I could get Yuba's attention and tossed the rooster. She had that bird in her mouth in no time parading in front of Mick and Molly. No doubt about this pups interest in birds! We packed up and headed to town with our orientation accomplished. The next day held promise in better weather also knowing the birds were bunched up and ready for a break in the weather as much as we were.

Yuba tracking a drag and retrieving a wing at 4 month's

Spring  2014 learning to love the water in North Dakota!

After unloading and getting warmed up we all made our plates and got a drink enjoying sitting at the same table again as the food heated up. It's times like this you wonder what our lives would be like if we weren't so far apart and we talked about that. There surely will be days ahead I'll spend closer I said but for now I'm living out this adventure. We all have to follow our own road for different reasons but they will meet again when the time is right. I enjoyed the dinner together and the catching up in particular as Jared and I both enjoyed Carson's tale of the nice buck he had just shot during the Wisconsin deer season days before. A real beauty!

I'd say that 870 must fit you pretty well!

But there was more news to share on this holiday. First Jared shared he and his wife Jordan were expecting their first child come next July and Carson shared he and his fiance Kim were getting married in February. What a great year ahead for our family I said! The conversation milled around this great news as we all made a dent in the whiskey bottle and finally surrendered to the need to rest for the coming day in the field.

Morning came quickly with the goal to be on our way by 8:30 or 9:00. After I made us all breakfast and we got our coffee fix we repeated the loading of the Jeep I had running and warmed up. Everybody squeezed in again and off we went. This was a honey of a run 3/4 of a mile off the road running through a corn field harvested just a week earlier. Overnight the cold front had moved through actually warming things up overnight so when our boots hit the ground it was almost twenty degrees and the sky showed signs of opening to some blue! Wind no where to be found. It just felt perfect as we made our way through a pasture ahead to the waterway we'd be hunting. There was a field road we could have driven in on but with several inches of snow I chose to not take a chance on getting stuck back in off the road not being able to see any obstructions there might be. So we walked the distance giving everybody including the pups a chance to get acclimated to the day ahead.

We hunted our way in. Boots on the ground is the best way to find birds!

We crossed the first fence and split up with my pups and I on the east side and the boys with Yuba to the west closest to the corn stubble as we moved ahead. This first section was wider than the rest and really thick with cattails. I expected it to be difficult to get birds to take flight here and sure enough lots of fresh tracks but only a couple of hens took to the air as we walked by. However Carson noted later we also moved a big coyote that ran out and to the east which ran behind me and up the adjacent hillside. It's fun walking along in fresh snow as there's no doubt you're in bird cover with tracks everywhere. Mick and Molly were moving along in front of me nicely. Mick just loves the close work as I like to call it working the birds in this thick cover. As we came to a bend in the waterway much narrower now I looked down and saw where a covey of Huns had spent the night as evidenced by a circle of scat in the grass next to the cattails. It wasn't a couple minutes later that they flushed just to the right of the boys on the edge of the corn stubble. A nice covey of a dozen birds within shooting distance but no one took this first opportunity. North Dakota's magic for upland hunters is the prospect for a mixed bag but it takes a while to adjust to the different birds. No worries we'd get other opportunities before this day was done.

Here we go!

The waterway narrowed now and a couple minutes after the Huns took flight Mick and Molly suddenly went on point 20 feet ahead of me right on the edge of the cattails. I signaled to Carson and Jared to get ready and walked ahead. A nice rooster bolted from the cover and before I could get my gun mounted two shots were fired and the bird rocked both times but kept flying down the waterway. Knowing the cover ahead I had no doubt that we would find that bird with 4 dog's on the ground so we just continued hunting the waterway as planned. It wasn't long before Mick was working birds again in and around the now narrow band of cattails. We had another point in minutes with a few hens flying to the north into the corn stubble.
The cover thinned out for a while and I was calculating the flight distance of that rooster trying to guess where he may have come down when I saw movement ahead. Sure enough that rooster was trying to move ahead to bury himself in a group of cattails. I called to Jared and told him to send Yuba to fetch in that direction. Off she went with a curious look but it didn't take long once she caught scent for her to put her nose on that bird and grab it! What a sight! At this age they learn from every experience and this was a great start.

This was a great experience for a young pup

Many happy returns! Yuba at 10 month's

We paused for a picture or two and gathered ourselves for the next portion of the run to the west. Although Carson was the shooter Jared had the vest so he got to carry the bird!. We had blue sky now and temps were still hovering around 20 degrees so it was as close to perfect for a late season hunt as you could get with no wind! The waterway ahead became wider as we approached the fence line and I cautioned the boys to be ready thinking we may have moved birds ahead of us when a covey of sharptail flushed to my left in the corn stubble just out of range. It was a nice sight against the blue sky to the south nonetheless. I turned back and moved ahead as we came alongside the last area of the cattails close to the fence line and adjacent pasture when another rooster burst into the air above the cattails and fell with one report from Carson again! I stayed on guard for another flush as Yuba made quick work of locating and retrieving the bird from the heavy cattails. When it looked like there were no other birds to take flight I crossed over for another photo opp and recap of the action with the Setter's milling around enjoying the action as well.

Again!

And again!

There was a another area of cover much less dense across the fence line so I crossed and circled with Mick just to make sure we were leaving no birds behind. Sure enough a rooster bolted wild out of range to the north east as I moved through. We'd catch up later I said as the boys and I fanned out along the corn stubble to the north having walked the length of the waterway. It was an rolling hill field as we reached the northwest corner for this run and turned back east. The objective was to walk the edge hoping to move some birds that had been feeding in the stubble. Everywhere we went there were fresh tracks and the dog's all stayed birdy as we moved along in the sunshine. Despite the tracks in the snow we weren't able to move a bird on this leg and turned back south after we observed some birds flushing wild from around a slough in the middle of the stubble a quarter mile away. We fanned out hoping again to herd some moving birds in the stubble to the sparse cover around this slough which was actually more of a large pot hole with some weedy cover on the edge. In my scouting I had walked this cover and knew the birds used it so we made the walk ahead and circled the frozen pot hole. Again there were fresh tracks everywhere but no birds moving. We got 3/4 of the way around when a single Hun flushed flying right to left which I missed.

We then had a couple hundred more yards to cover around this frozen pot hole when the Setter's started tracking scent ahead through the knee high weedy cover. As I've related the weather had just broke and all the birds were actively moving about feeding so tracks were everywhere. This turned into a cat and mouse game with Mick and Molly slowing up and testing the wind knowing we had a bird ahead someplace. We were all walking together now fairly close. Mick pointed again with Molly backing close behind. I walked forward and again nothing. I expected the bird had exited through the corn stubble. We walked ahead another 25 yards and came to where we had started. I was just standing there looking at where we'd come from when Carson said, 'Hey Dad Molly's on point!" I was looking for her ahead somewhere and Carson said," She's right to your left. Between you and I right here!" I looked to my left and there she was standing rigid looking right out into the open along the shore of the pot hole. All right get ready I said walking forward a couple steps when a nice rooster burst out of the short cover. Bang! Before I again got my gun to my shoulder the bird was down with another great shot by Carson with his 870. This was the same gun he used with a slug barrel days earlier to take that trophy buck I mentioned earlier in southern Wisconsin. Almost as soon as that bird was down on the frozen ice Jared's pup Yuba was racing to it full speed ahead! What she didn't know or care about was that the ice was slippery and when she tried to scoop up the bird on the run did a somersault then just as quickly righted herself and had the rooster in her mouth on the way back to us. All I thought when I saw how aggressively she handled this retrieve was " Wow! I want one of those dog's!"  What a show for just a young dog in her debut season. Amazing!

We circled back to the waterway to try to locate any of the birds we saw earlier flush wild in addition to the covey of Huns but the walk back was without any more opportunities but what an absolute beautiful day it had turned into. My Garmin GPS told me we were in our 4th mile as we approached the Jeep. Jared decided to skirt the small slough beside the field road while Carson and I packed it in watching Jared and Yuba. Carson also took this opportunity to have a piece of the pumpkin pie we had brought with us which we decided was a great idea after we all had a piece. After hardly any debate we voted among us that pie on the hunts was a new tradition!

Then there was pie! A new tradition!

There was another waterway across the road but I had another prime spot picked out for our next run of the day I wanted to get too. We all remarked about the walk we'd just taken and the fact that we hadn't seen anyone in sight all morning. That's why I love North Dakota I said but you have to be careful knowing there isn't likely to be anyone around often times in case you encounter difficulty of some type. Often times I'll hunt the less traveled areas just because I like the feeling of being out there without any other hunters around.

We drove a few miles west to the next run driving by some great cover on the way but a little wide for the conditions meaning when an area of cattails is just to big the birds have endless avenues of escape without needing to fly making it useless to hunt them there.

It was early afternoon when we arrived and parked at the edge of a wheat field overlooking a waterway in the middle of the section running east to west with a hill to the south which had yet another waterway and pot hole with cattails on the other side. This was the perfect formula for late season cold weather. Heavy cover with food close by preferably corn which was right across the road a couple hundred yards.

Mick and Molly were really beat from the morning run so I put Beau on the ground for this run as we all walked down to the waterway through a quarter mile of wheat stubble to the south. Carson took the south side with Jared walking the middle and myself to the north. Again we were in the middle of fresh tracks everywhere and I stood stationary as the boys walked around to the other side and came parallel with me. It can be very dangerous hunting in close proximity in heavy cover so it's of the utmost importance to stay in view and not get ahead where someone can't see you. We slowly moved along and I had what I knew were rooster tracks right in front of me. They're larger is how I know. Beau picked up the scent right away and headed into the cover. Before I knew it a thundering beating of the cattails revealed a rooster rising and flying right to left heading behind me back the way we'd just come. I couldn't shoot though as I at this point was unsure of where exactly the boys were so I let the rooster get to the edge of the cattails where I could see and pulled the trigger. He folded but not in the manner I was hoping. I knew he was going to run and he did. But before I even walked in that direction I heard another shot and Carson had downed a bird as well. He called Jared over with Yuba who immediately again  tracked this rooster that was also moving and brought it to hand in short order. Another great retrieve by this young pup! We looked for my bird for quite awhile and neither dog picked up scent leading me to believe a set of tracks leading out into the pasture to the west was our bird now long gone unfortunately.

We continued ahead ever ready as there had been a number of birds when we pulled in around a small bush at the top of the knoll just above where we were walking. Another rooster and a few hens flushed wild as we made our way to the end of the cover and started the walk over the hill to the next waterway.

As we crested the hill overlooking the area we would be hunting another large group of birds got up wild and set down a few hundred yards away. It was exciting to see. Then as we approached the edge of the cover ahead a covey of sharptail grouse busted wild just out of range as well having been feeding on the wheat stubble. We entered the cattails which bordered the frozen pot hole on the east side working our way back west eventually. Jared was on the inside this time with Yuba and Carson in the middle with myself on the east edge. A hundred yards in all hell broke loose first with birds flushing by Jared and then in another few moments between Carson and myself. It was difficult with so many birds taking flight at different angles to identify hen from rooster so we all actually just ended up not firing a shot as the few roosters within the group either were not identifiable or just out of range. Having just lost a bird I didn't want to take a risky shot just to down a bird in this heavy cover. Besides we had an excellent chance of pinning these birds down within the area we were now headed. As we came around we moved a few more hens but no roosters. At the south end Jared decided to take a walk with Yuba a quarter mile south and join us on the west side. Carson and I walked around until we heard Jared shoot and waited for a while for him to crest the knoll coming towards us but he didn't come for quite a while so we decided to check on him walking far enough to the west so he could see us coming. Sure enough he was looking around a small waterway for his bird. We joined the search walking the area thoroughly but again with no luck. When you're hunting wild birds it can be very difficult to recover them in this big country. Yuba had done just an excellent job for us so far but this bird again was just gone. Two nice roosters had flushed for Jared right on the top of the knoll flying south west. It was a beautiful sight he said and surely looked like the bird went down hard. You never like to walk away but it happens. The good news is that nothing ever goes to waste out here between predator and prey. Nothing. Everything enters the food chain at some level even though it may not be on your plate today!

Making our way through the grass

We began our walk along the western most side of this run coming through some nice tall grass. Beau was pointing and creeping the whole way but couldn't get a bird pinned down with the exception of one hen. Run! Run! Run! They all must have been shouting to each other. Just at the point where the grass met the wheat stubble and the cattails where we started a rooster suddenly rocketed to my left catching me totally off guard. It was an easy straight away shot but I swear I must have been shooting blanks as not a feather was ruffled. He flew straight past Carson as well. I think I led him to far he said as the bird continued on his way!

I was tired at this point. We came together for the walk another quarter mile to the Jeep as the sun was just starting to descend on a beautiful late afternoon sky. We had seen quite a number of birds here but again it was a big area and even with a couple dogs and 3 hunters it's difficult to gain an advantage often times.

It had been a great day. Everyone had good opportunities. All the pups had done their best. Jared"s pup Yuba showed a tremendous drive and desire to find birds all which held so much promise for days and hunts ahead. We recounted the day as we drove the miles back home. Everyone was interested in trying the meatloaf this evening and of course the pie which we also enjoyed and  finished off as we drove home sharing the Jeep with 4 very tired dog's.

Upon arriving home and getting settled we had supper to attend to a little whiskey to consume and guns to clean. I complimented Carson on his shooting remarking that next year he'd be wearing a game vest to carry his own birds! We reminisced a little about the family as you'd expect. Somebody remembered to heat up the dinner rolls which I was thankful for. I had shared the story of when I first moved here how people expected dinner rolls with every meal and gravy as well actually. So I had bought some homemade dinner rolls from my German friend a couple blocks away to share the tradition.

The cold windy weather returned for Saturday. It was to be a half day hunt with the boys heading back to Minneapolis in the afternoon. I had a quarter section I wanted to hunt for this short time frame just a quarter mile from where we ended the day before. It was next to a rolling hill pasture which had always held a nice population of grouse. We drove in on the field road to the west end moving a large group of grouse on the fence line as we drove and walked south an 1/8 of a mile to the hayfield which unfortunately was pretty full of snow. I decided we'd walk the edge anyway since we were there. It was tough with wind again and both Mick and Molly were played out and having difficulty keeping pace. But we kept going skirting the edges along wheat stubble hoping for a pheasant or grouse flushing. 2/3 of the way around a group of grouse flushed wild from a small slough to the west in a wheat stubble field with a small slough 75 yards away. Shortly after I saw fresh grouse tracks in front of me and started following them into the grass hayfield thinking this bird is out here somewhere and will maybe hold for a point. Beau began working scent with his head high into the wind knowing that bird was close. He's a beautiful sight when he catches scent lifting his head into the wind stretching forward a bit as if he's turning up the power of his nose to catch any scent on the wind. Just a few moments later Beau stopped just ever so slowly looking to my right where a lone sharptail beat it's way chuckling into the air from left to right falling with a report from my gun into the fresh snow. Yuba was there in a flash over running the bird and before she turned around Beau was standing over the prize in the snow as I came over and shared it with Yuba before putting it in my pouch.

We continued on with Jared working tracks on the fence line but these birds seemed to have simply vanished into thin air or thick cover. I don't think I recalled seeing so many grouse tracks in an area as we made our way back to the Jeep. Beau worked in circles on these tracks with fresh scent but we just couldn't get these birds pinned down. When I caught up to the boys I said this was a missed call due to the snow filling in the cover but you never really know until you're right on it. It was a tough slog back to the Jeep into the wind with Mick and Molly needing to stop frequently but my decision is to allow them to go as long as they're able. After all it's what they live for but they were done for this day. The boys had a lone sharptail flush on the fence line on the way back and fired a shot but no cigar as we closed in on the Jeep 200 yards ahead.

I was able to tire Carson out in 2010 and 2011 but this was 2014 and as I made my way with my aging trio of bird dog's I recounted the last two days in my mind. They had suddenly become faster to shoulder their guns and after runs of a few miles expectantly asked "Well what's next?" while I took note of my energy level. Just as I had painfully noticed Beau's desire being somewhat mismatched with his ability from the beginning of the sharptail season I now was facing my own shortcomings. Here I'd been focusing on adapting to the Setters aging never realizing there was another front to fight the same battle. My own.

We were a determined looking bunch packed back into the Jeep as the wind blew all of 20 plus mph and damn single digits again. Well the best option was to head back to yesterdays run across the way and run it again hoping the birds had again spent the night there. That was the plan as we walked back down the stubble field and began walking the first waterway. I took Beau solo and left Mick and Molly to take refuge in the Jeep. Yuba just took it all in stride as we headed for the cattails again. Young pups are just so much fun to watch. We had walked for just a few minutes when I once again had fresh rooster tracks in front of me in pretty much the same place as yesterday. Moments later we had another rooster rocket to the top of the cattails this time flying straight to the east on the outside of the cover so I had a clear and safe shot at 30 yards dropping the bird hard in short cover. Beau marched right over and handled the rooster a little rougher than I like but he's always been that way when they flutter. If they are still he's really soft with them but he'll not tolerate any movement! That's OK with me as I've seen many birds over the years realize they can still run flip over and away they go! We reached the end with just a couple of hens moving and again walked to the other side. We had the same result with just a couple hens flushing and when we reached the south end Jared split off again with Yuba as he did the previous day. Carson and I walked the west edge of the pot hole with him on the edge walking the ice and myself on the outside. A couple hundred yards into it Carson fired on a rooster I didn't see come up and then headed in the direction it went not far away having missed his shot. I followed but before I got even with him he had the rooster flush again right  next to him and missed a high rising shot straight away actually so close it was hard he said. As I watched I was sure the way he'd been shooting this bird was coming down but it continued to fly another day. He then joined me back to the west as we looked for Jared coming around the knoll again. I was tired out by the cold and wind and let Carson meet him walking towards the fence line waiting for both of them along with Beau.

Together Again Thanksgiving 2014

 It was an ending to the hunt reminding you how challenging this sport can be but so much fun pitting yourself and you're dog's against these wild and crafty birds! A group picture would have to wait until we got home as my camera battery had gone dead in the cold the last two days. We rolled home passing a covey of Huns and a large group of grouse sitting on the edge of the road. It was encouraging and inspiring to have seen them and all the birds in the numbers we did. A real and true reason among many to be thankful for on this hunt but especially for being Together Again Thanksgiving 2014.