The Big Basin

Since the upland season was closed in Montana and there was too much snow in my Idaho haunts, I had to look elsewhere for my bird fix.  This time of year I am fairly busy and I was approaching Madoff type financial waste in hotels, gasoline and nonresident licenses, so I could have easily stayed home. But, when I look at my setters' aging, sad eyes, I couldn't stay home.
It left me with Utah or Wyoming chukars. Wyoming was an easy drive, Utah about a day's drive.  I chose the Cowboy State and got out my maps, hopped on the internet, and devised a plan.  Basically, all of my resources said the same thing: there are chukars scattered throughout the Bighorn Basin. Before you SMH, as the kids say, for my possible hot-spotting, look on a map. The Basin is roughly 10,000 square miles and not all of it screams chukars. In fact, in two January trips there, I spent equal time driving as I did hunting.  It took me quite awhile to realize that the Idaho/Oregon chukar habitat that I was looking for, doesn't really exist in Wyoming.  Instead of looking for 45 degrees slopes which rose from large watersheds, I was settling for gradual ridges, with occasional stock tanks and creeks that probably were dry most of the summer.  Cheatgrass was still present, as were scattered sage brush and rocky knobs which we chukar hunters have seen chukars scamper over in our dreams. 

I saw just enough birds to give me that fire of wanting more.  I won't give Wyoming a 10 out of 10 for chukar habitat or upland hunting in general. Sure there are pockets of great pheasant hunting, healthy numbers of sage grouse and good mountain grouse hunting. But, overall there is a lifetime of arid range land that requires a lot of sifting through.  I don't mind walking miles between coveys of Huns or chukars.  But, if one is having more dry runs than fruitful walks, you begin to question if this is the best use of your time and your dogs' paws.   The birds I shot were in far corners of the Basin, in some fairly nondescript habitat. Now, as February sets in, I won't have another chance to explore and learn more until next season.  Maybe I head to Utah next weekend. That season does remain open until February 15th........

Yes, I Am Seeing Somebody Else

       900 miles on the road, three nights in a motel, 7 hours of hunting. If you do the cost/benefit analysis, it would prove to be a poor choice of a New Year's weekend, both fiscally and time-wise.  But, I would do it again in a heartbeat.  In fact, I spent the past two evenings, studying maps of chukar ground in Wyoming and Utah.  Oregon is too far, Montana numbers too spotty to expect a good hunt.  My wife thinks I am nuts, but in a cute way.  I think.

Speaking of the Mrs., she finally came with me this past trip to Idaho.  She didn't explain herself, but I am quite sure it was to check up on on me.  Seven trips to chukar country the past couple of years, often by myself,  all in wintry weather, without a full limit of eight birds ever captured.  Something was amiss.  So, when she said she was coming along to check things out in this state that was suddenly better than Montana, I had to accommodate her. 

Leaving at 6AM, the morning after New Year's hijinks was the first test. And she was ready to go, without a complaint. Freezing fog in Butte made for some white-knuckle driving conditions, but she kept the faith.  When the Toyota's console read -20 below at the mountain pass on the border, she simply said, "This is too cold to hunt, right?"  

Overall, the hunting trip was a compromise.  We wined and dined, did a lot of hot-tubbing and hot-springing and did some hiking.  My hiking with guns and dogs was limited to about two hours a day.  Some of it was fairly difficult. Almost dumb.  I looked hard for south-facing slopes and tried to pattern the birds based on snow depth, maximum sun exposure and food.  That equation was more complex too, as I found some birds on the canyon roads, some at the top of the mountain in 18" of snow.  The latter birds I really felt sorry for as I could almost run them down in the fluffy powder. My setters also had to work harder than normal, but our days were short.  

When I wrapped up the hunt Sunday, I felt it was time to admit the season was over.  Laura had tagged along, pretended she enjoyed seeing what it was like on the chukar mountain and took some video.  But, it was more work staying upright than it should have been.  Now, less than a week later, I am not so sure.  If my dogs and I all get a vote, it is probably unanimous that I study those maps a little more. 

Just A Taste Of It

I had originally planned to head west for chukars when things started to wind down in Montana.  Those "things" included upland birds in Montana, like Huns, sharptail and pheasants.  Why leave birds to find birds, right? (see previous post on ruffed grouse) I also consider myself an occasional big game hunter, but mostly for the privilege of having deer or elk meat in the freezer.  Horns, not so important to me.  As you probably know. the dogs would prefer that I only hunted things with wings.

Well, I have never been great at delayed gratification.  My alibis were: 1) there wasn't enough snow to really track elk in the mountains of central Montana and 2) there would be plenty of time to shoot a deer over Thanksgiving weekend.  I also wanted to get to Idaho before snows would hinder my chukar hunting amidst the steep terrain.  Out of four trips to hunt chukars the previous fall, I hunted in substantial snow in three of them.  It wasn't a complete barrier to success, but the snow did add a bit of extra effort and danger to the hiking.

The trip for me was a solo one, which was fine.  When it came to chukar hunting, I had learned that it really wasn't for everyone.  The days were long, the miles were hard and the shooting was quite challenging.  When I am alone, I don't mind exploring new ground, with the possibility of completely striking out.  My Dad had the same philosophy for years, as he searched for the holy grail of ruffed grouse coverts, much to the benefit of others.  Now I can return the favor and get my hunting partners into birds with more consistency.

Some things never change, as I had ice-covered highways to travel over and there was even some snow on the chukar hills when I arrived. But, by the end of the first day of hunting, most of the snow had melted or disappeared via sublimation.  It was a fruitful trip overall, as I had found some birds in a new location and crossed off one possible chukar hotspot from the list, as the cover was sparse and we didn't put up any birds.  I made sure the dogs got into plenty of birds before the trip wrapped up as we hunted known milk runs where the only disappointment was my shooting.  

Overall, it didn't do much for whetting my chukar appetite. Now I just need this deer and elk hunting to wrap up.

A Ruff Time

The trip to Dad's grouse camp in northern MN is always a bit of a 180 from the Montana upland scene. His camp is a speck of private ground, amidst thousands of acres of public land.  Hence, there is no begging for access, no worry about fence lines and property lines, and very little competition.  This is where I grew up, where my Dad and I have spent 30 years of weekends and holidays.  Dad has pages of detailed hunting journals and his own records of drumming counts and grouse cycle statistics.  In other words, this is our home arena.

The dogs also seem to enjoy the chance of pace.  They get to sleep by a wood stove, they eat table scraps that would feed some entire families and the ground is fairly forgiving, moist and shady, compared to rocky and rugged in Montana.  There are very few stickers and burrs to bury themselves in the long setter fur, no rattlesnakes or cactus to worry about. Wolves are my biggest concern and with gunshots, beeper collars and some loud voices, the odds are slim that one will have an encounter.

We seem to have missed the major woodcocks flights, but encountered a few each day.  Grouse were up slightly from 2014 (5% up according to the grouse professor). The dog work was good; many prairie dogs struggle with pace and range in the northern grouse woods, but with dogs that are both in their twilight, they worked at just the right cadence.

The negatives will haunt me for a year, until I return to Minnesota.  It was actually just one negative: my shooting.  I can still see Tess on point, on the edge between scattered popple and a expansive cedar swamp. As Tess was locked up, I prepared myself for a shot, but stepping into a clearing and onto a slight mound.  Not one grouse rose, but two, giving the grouse hunter a rare, very rare, true double on ruffed grouse.  Boom Boom.  I choked.  I rushed my shot on the first bird and then in a panic, missed the second also. No excuses.  This wasn't my first hunt in the woods. I spent more time in those woods than should have been allowed. If this was hockey, I would have been benched.

It wasn't the only miss or screw-up that I recall from that trip either. Is my hearing fading? If you can't hear a bird flush immediately, you are giving that bird a huge advantage. My reflexes? I hope not. I can still beat my Mom in tennis. Maybe.  Then again,  is no more challenging bird to get a bead on than a fast-flying grouse in thick cover.  Maybe I am just forgetting that detail.  A pheasant or sharptail is not very sporty over a point, compared to ruffs. Woodcock are even a notch below ruffs, especially when the leaves are mostly gone from the landscape. I also had two reloads that didn't fire.  That is also maddening, when you consider you drive 12 hours and might get six to twelve opportunities on grouse per day.  I also spent too much time trying to get video this trip as well.  Attempting to get a dog on a point, a bird flying and a subsequent clean kill on camera, is as tough as it gets in the world of cinematography.  But, my footage of the dogs, hunters and camp shenanigans are priceless.

Great trip overall, one that makes me appreciate where I grew up, how I was raised, and every dog that I have shared those favorite coverts with.

Pheasant Games

What is it about pheasants? Why do hunters pack one-star motels and race down gravel roads to beat other hunters to their pre-determined location?  Heck, at some lodges in South Dakota, folks spend hundreds of dollars a day to shoot three birds.  Often over someone else’s dogs. Hunters simply get crazy about pheasants. 

I was part of the chaos and have been for over 20 years.  As I left town the Friday before opener, every dog kennel in truck beds that I saw headed to pheasant country, gave me some angst.  Seeing personalized license plates that read POYNTR, HNTMUP, RNGNEK, didn’t help either.  

But, as it has for many others, it is often about tradition more than the hunting.  The same hunting partners, the same rooster honey holes and the same corny jokes during lunch. “Never have we ever seen a guy miss a rooster over a point!” or "I don't shoot the juveniles, that was the new guy." The only things that change over time are the dogs, unfortunately. 

Once again, I woke up Saturday morning before the alarm. I grabbed my coffee cup and told Ryan and Kale to meet me at The Spot.  Sitting in the truck, for 45 minutes before dawn, I questioned my sanity, vowing to not do it again next year. I mean it this time. The Spot isn’t typically loaded with birds, but it is good enough.  And it was again.  We had our limit of nine birds, with a lot of help from experienced dogs that ranged in age from six to 12.  And, by golly, someone did miss a bird over a point. And to the Holier-Than-Thou types that like to respond with, "Bird hunting shouldn't be about limits", well I agree. Except for pheasant opener. It is often about limits. Even tailgate photos.  Sorry.  If I see someone one hunting at 4PM on pheasant opener, they are either a poor shot or are breaking the rules and are working on limit #2.  Or they really overslept.

By day three, when birds were running, some running ahead and flushing wild, things got sporty. And when an experienced dog plays the game of chase, point, chase, point and you are able to keep up to get a shot at that crafty rooster, then there is a sense of gamesmanship and great appreciation for just how good a dog’s nose is.  That is hunting, not just shooting ,like opening day was.

The only negatives this pheasant opener were extreme winds, (gusts to 50 mph on that Sunday) and the loss of CRP, which has reduced the amount of bird habitat by over 50% the past three years.  The glory days of Montana pheasant hunting might be over, but they are still good to enough to get up really early for, just to get your spot, one last time.

Upland Vest 6.0

I wished I had kept my first upland vest.  It was a hand-me-down vest, from Holiday, a gas station chain based in Minnesota, when they sold a lot of their own sporting goods.  The vests were often brown duck material, with very little blaze orange on them.  Simple, lightweight vests that served a purpose: hold a couple of grouse and woodcock in the rear game pouch, maybe a few shells in the front pockets.   My dad would always warn me not to use the stretched-out, elastic shell holders on the front, as they inevitably would fail while crawling through the woodcock alders.  "I am not going to lend you any shells, if you lose all of yours, " he would scold.  Point taken.

Now vests have evolved into more of a functional pack and less of a fashionable accessory.  I have a number of strap vests on hand (minimal carrying capacity) and a few pack vests too, but I decided to purchase a new one as my go-to bird/shell/water/food carrier has more rips in it than I can trust.  The old pack vest, made by defunct supplier, Mother, held up well and was lightweight. I have a similar vest made by Cabela's, but it also seems to be losing its durability. So, I went shopping for the 2nd most important item of clothing I can think of, second only to hunting boots.which I also seem to have a collection of.....

I did a lot of research and settled on the LL Bean Technical Pack Vest. While the WingWorks came in a  close second, it was nearly double the cost and was built so solidly that it was fairly heavy,  even when empty.  The Quilomene has been around a while, but hangs down lower than I like. Both are bulky, something that isn't always good when hunting in the thicker ruffed grouse or blue grouse coverts.  Tenzing, Pella, and Badlands also have some contenders in the category, but the LL Bean had a size that fit my frame the best.

I might break out the Filson strap vest this fall in MN, but out west, whether chasing sharptail in Montana or chukars along the Idaho/Oregon border, a larger option is necessary.  When you find yourself three miles from the truck at 1PM, it is essential to have your lunch and plenty of water for the dogs on your person.  And, being able to carry a few birds back home with you is also plus.

Early Indicators Suggest.....

Quit your jobs, cash out your 401K and tell the wife that you are getting back with the band.  It is going to be the best bird season in decades.

Well, maybe above average.  Yes, it is only late July, but I am starting to see a number of broods of various species so it definitely won't be a bad year. Sure, we can still receive damaging hail, prairie fires or forest fires (there is a blaze currently growing in Glacier Park), but overall things look good.

Pheasants--typically pheasant chicks in central Montana are the last to show themselves as the hens do a good job of keeping them hidden in tall cover. My sightings, unfortunately, are those young birds that were killed by vehicles.  When you see a lot of road-killed birds, it often indicates a good hatch. The only concern is with the birds that hatched after July 1st. We had a good, early hay crop and a lot of it was "put down", as ranchers say, earlier than normal.  Those birds that nested in CRP, grain or in thicker brush, should have done fine.

Hungarians--I have seen quite a few nice broods in my 20 mile radius from home.  This might be the best success story in central Montana this fall.

Sharptail----I haven't done much recon with dogs in the field yet, as I hate to bust up young flocks when they are this young.  August 1st is when I feel safe putting away the leashes.  But, I did see some young birds feeding in recently cut alfalfa recently. Only six or so, but better than nothing.

Blue Grouse---I have seen plenty of blues while on my mountain trail runs.  While my hopes are high for a good mountain grouse year, I am also witnessing dogs that are starting to show their age.  Granted it has been warm, but when the dogs fall in line behind me, I know they are tiring...fingers are crossed that they will be in game shape by September 1st.

Ruffs---same as blues.  Have seen plenty in the lower elevation foothills when hiking and when fishing.

Sage grouse---haven't seen any, but I haven't been in their prime habitat either. It still sounds like Montana will have a limited season, with only certain areas open to hunting, for the month of September.


I did some chukar scouting in Idaho while in the area for a race in June and was pleasantly surprised. I did see two coveys of full-grown birds, without chicks, so I have no idea what that indicates. I even heard some birds chuckling during the race and was probably the only runner smiling during the miserable ascent.

My friends in MN expect a similar grouse year to last. The drumming counts in northern MN were pretty much even from last year, so like last year, there were enough birds to make it interesting. The weather was decent during the hatch, as well. I just need to time the woodcock flights better this October.

While you probably shouldn't leave your wife or fake your own death this autumn, but as bird hunters, every fall is a good one.

Young-of-the year ruffs as of July 21st.