This trip to Montana was a special one (though really, they all are or why bother making the trip?). It was a trip filled with great accomplishments and it was a trip touched by sadness.
Let me introduce two of the main players:
B: at the time a 2.5 year old English Setter. She had two seasons hunting in Montana and the quail woods of Florida under her belt. She is an absolute sweetheart that has her own opinions on when a person should speak or not. She is hell on lizards and geckos. She loves long runs on the prairie or in the woods. She has one absolutely gorgeous point. She is also the only pointy dog I know or have ever heard of that reliably points woodducks. She does it with as much style as she does on pheasants or grouse. When she gets in trouble, she immediately apologizes and then once she has deemed the apology finished, she gets harumphy with you for getting mad at her. She is an absolute doll when it comes to being laid on her back and having to undergo her nightly spa treatments of de-burring, de-cactusing, de-thorning and checking over her feet, but she will never let you forget to give her her cookies for putting up with the torture. She is too smart for our own good sometimes. But do not let her quirks fool you. She has developed into one helluva bird dog and we have much to be proud of her for and lots to crow about.
Drake: at the time an 11 year old Labrador. He had hunted birds with us for six seasons across multiple states from the west coast to the east coast. He has excelled in the mountains, the duck marsh and across the prairies. He is an excellent dead bird finder and would not give up until he had found his bird. He is an absolute love slut and wants to be petted and loved unless he is hunting or eating. I challenge anyone with pointy dogs to find a dog with a more intense point than Drake has when there is food on the table. He would point unblinkingly forever. He has needed yearly reminders that hunting is a two species game that he participates in with us people, but one reminder a year is usually all he has ever needed. He very well knows that when the gun is loaded, it is time to hunt. Once it is unloaded, we are going to relax now. He is my first hunting dog and he makes me look like a lot better trainer than I know how to be. We have lots to be proud of him for and much to crow about.
We head to Montana in September mainly so that we can get up there and chase Sage Grouse as they are only open in September. They are one of my favorite birds to hunt and we usually run across sharptails and the occasional hun covey while we are out in search of sage grouse. Sage grouse are found in wide open spaces, not surprisingly where there is a great deal of sage brush. It is not quite like quail hunting or pheasant hunting where there are often obvious areas that attract birds more than others. Like cattail sloughs or brushy areas. It is the kind of country that seems to look the same all over and where having a dog that covers a great deal of ground is far more ideal than a dog that you keep close. It is the kind of country that B was bred to hunt. Now that is not to say that Drake is some slouch and cannot find birds because he has done very well for us on sage grouse but it certainly is not the most ideal country to hunt him in.
This would be B's third trip for sage grouse. Her first trip she was a 7 month old puppy and figuring many, many, many things out. The second year was a very tough year for us and the birds. The hurricanes made us late to Montana so we didn't even get to hunt sage grouse and the drought in Montana was so bad that when we did get up there, we stopped in our sage grouse areas for a few days of letting the dogs blow off steam and looking for sharptails and huns, we saw 5 sage grouse total and that was while we were driving around. It was a very hard year for the birds. This year was hopefully going to be a much better year bird-wise and the year she REALLY turned on to sage grouse.
September in MT can be brutally hot, quite comfortable or even quite cold. When we got there, it was more on the brutally hot side so we had to be sure to get out early in the mornings for our hunts and then later in the evenings. There is one particular stretch of BLM land where we can go from one stock tank to another and make a big route through the sage looking for grouse. The tanks are about a mile apart so the dogs are always happy to get to them.
Well, the second morning we were looking for sage grouse, we had made our way along our track to the farthest stock tank. After sitting for a while, cooling the dogs off and having a snack we got up to go and off B went. Like she had just gotten out of the truck and then SLAM! She goes on point! First point of the day that I had seen (Drake and I usually hunt somewhat apart from Steve and B since we try to hunt the thicker sage to see if grouse are hiding there). Now, Drake is no fool and has learned that when B freezes like that, there are birds. I did not want him screwing up her first sage grouse find and so I had a hold of him as we walked up to her point. Just as Steve was stepping in front of her, B starts moving again. She does not seem to be relocating, just seems to have lost the scent. But she is working a tighter section of wind than she normally does. She ran back and forth until she was a couple hundred yards out and BAM! Another hard point! Sage grouse can run pretty far we have found. So we hurried up there, me keeping hold of Drake yet again. And once again when Steve stepped in front of B, she began moving again. And so this went on over a half a dozen points or so, covering about half a mile until B went on point and stayed on point when Steve stepped in front of her.
Drake was at my side and I made him sit and stay. He was beginning to get the hang of this but I was taking no chances with him screwing up B's point. Steve took a couple of steps and up came a big grouse and then a couple more! B had led us to a small covey of grouse! After Steve shot, B rushed after her prize. Drake was released to let him go get a snootful and he got another bird up out of the sage. Apparently, they weren't all bright enough to fly away. So while we were crowing about what a great job B had done, I was keeping an eye on Drake. I have learned to keep close enough to Drake even after we thought that the covey disappeared so that when that late bird got up, I was able to bring him down. Now we were double crowing! There was a straggler left behind in B's covey so that even Drake got a piece of the action! We sat there for awhile admiring our prizes, cooling the dogs off because the point-relocate-point-relocate action was not slow and the day was heating up quickly. B was VERY PLEASED with herself. There was no doubt about it. That girl had worked those sage grouse from a long distance off and brought us right to them. We had us a sage grouse setter to go with our sage grouse lab! She had proven herself to be Da Bombdiggity!!!!
After sitting there for a bit, having a snack, cooling the dogs off, taking a few pictures it was time to head back towards the truck. There was still a good bit of sage to cross though. There could be more sage grouse between us and the truck. When we were nearing the last tank, B went on point. I didn't see it because we had been split up and Drake and I were working low while Steve and B were working high. Drake had gotten on to some scent and was following it as fast as he could and I was following him, whoaing him on occasion to let me catch up. When we came to the top of the hill, B was not too far away and Steve was coming up close to her. By chance we were meeting at about the same time. This time Drake was VERY good and stayed while we walked in on B's point. The world exploded around us as we stepped in front of B! There were sage grouse everywhere! Steve and I picked our birds, took our shots and wouldn't ya know it? We each filled our limits! Drake was off like a shot after his bird and brought it to me, dancing in his delight as B proudly brought back her bird to Steve.
That morning set the tone for the rest of the trip on sage grouse. B had many excellent finds, as did Drake. And when we were not out hunting, B was trying to hurry us along and to quit with the sightseeing (apparently she does not care if it is too hot outside to hunt).
And there was a good bit of sightseeing. Because there was a lot of neat stuff to see.
Coming in to town one evening, we were greeted by these beauties. I was shocked to see them still in velvet.
The end of the sage grouse part of the trip came far too soon, but it was one heckuva stop on our adventure.
I had to fly home to go back to work but I eagerly waited for the next part of my adventure to start. Drake gets to stay when I leave so he gets to enjoy himself hunting and Steve gets a second dog, just in case. Plus it saves me a TON because flying a dog anymore is outrageous. Anyway, I flew back to MT in October for some pheasant hunting. I was able to stay five days and it was pretty dang chilly. There was one day we decided naaaaaaaaaaaaaah the trailer is almost being blown over by the bitter wind, I think we'll just stay inside and watch movies.
The beginning of the trip started pretty fun. On the way to camp from the airport, we drove a few roads looking to see what there was to see and right there in the middle of the road was a whole limit of pheasants! Just standing there looking at us like whatcha gonna do? We creep up on them (in a great big pickup) and they slowly meandered to the side of the road and we told them just how lucky they were and that I oughtta just sic my dog on them just for being so brazen. They should know better than to parade around in the middle of the road with no cares in the world. They just flipped me the bird. Can you imagine?
Pheasant numbers are down where we hunt. I am sure part of that was the previous summer's drought followed by an incredibly nasty winter and then add in the huge loss of CRP in the area and it made sense that pheasant numbers were down. Also this year, even into middle October there was lots of still wheat and peas standing in the fields everywhere. The ground was too wet to get wheat out and pea prices were too low to make it worth the farmers time and money to get the peas out. So LOTS of places and LOTS of food for the pheasants. But you could find them if you looked hard enough.
There is one corner that we call Drake's place. There is a pond with a thick cattail slough around it and some tall thick grass around that. All of it surrounded by wheat with a little dirt road that travels through it. There are always pheasants there even in the leanest of years. We had an afternoon hunt planned there with just him and it turned out to be one helluva hunt. He proved that even though he is old, even though he has arthritis, even though he is no longer as fast as he once was, he is still Da Bombdiggity on thick cover pheasants!
It was a cold afternoon (by my standards...Steve was comfortable). The sun was out but it was breezy and the bitter cold weather was coming. You could smell it in the air. It wasn't there yet though so we were going to make the most of the hunt. Drake was rarin' to go. He was dancing around our feet, making his little excited grunting noises and telling us to hurry it up. He is ready to go. Why do we need all of these packs and jackets and all this extra stuff? Just get your guns and shells and LET'S GO!
FINALLY we set off and began working the cover strips that led up to the back side of the pond. We have hunted there before and we had a pretty good idea of where the pheasants tend to hang out. Drake no longer crashes through the thick stuff like he used to. He works the edges until he smells something that gets him interested in working through that thick grass. And it was THICK. So I walked the thick stuff while he walked the edges. We flushed several hens but we just couldn?t seem to find a rooster. But we kept working it.
Usually by the time we get to the far side of the pond, we have put up at least one rooster but it wasn't looking good for us. Just as we were stepping on to the far edge of the pond to get a drink, Drake goes crazy working the cover and up pops a rooster! I shot and winged him but he kept flying and I did a poor job of following up. We watched as the rooster flew and then sorta fell out of the sky on the other side of the little dirt road the pond is near. The other side of the road has thick grass and some water and then some harvested wheat. We don't usually hunt over there because it is such a small strip of grass and we never find birds there. But off Drake and I went to go find that bird while Steve waited for us up on the hill so that we could continue the hunt.
A shame that Steve didn't get the next part on video because what followed was immensely entertaining for him. When we got over to the other side of the road and began working where I thought the bird had gone down, Drake lit off and I thought HOT DAMN he's got him! Then he headed straight into the stubble field and I was like WHAAAAATTT? But I have seen pheasants hide in stubble and I didn't see them until I was super close so I let Drake work for a bit while I stood where I thought the bird had fallen. Steve told me later that as he watched he was thinking "get Drake out of the stubble! No self-respecting pheasant will run out of cover into a stubble field."
I called Drake back in to the thick stuff where I was and told him Dead Bird and he began working the area hard again. In no time at all, he had found our bird! A gorgeous rooster! Drake danced in his delight at doing such a good job and I rubbed him all over for being my hero yet again. We decided that since we were down there, we may as well finish walking that little strip of grass because you never know. Leaving Steve to watch us, we walked the strip and in no time at all, Drake was wiggly and up popped this longtailed rooster! I shot and only crippled this bird enough to keep it from flying away. AAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH! I hate crippling birds and that seems to be all I was doing! Well, Drake was on this bird pretty quick but being not as fast as he once was and the grass being super thick, he was JUST behind that bird as it ran through the grass. And it ran pretty quick too...right out into the stubble field. Drake is still faster than me so there goes that pheasant, Drake too close behind for me to shoot and me running as fast as I could to get to them. Off the three of us go into another stretch of grass that backs right up to a water filled ditch. The bird ran one way, I could see him moving in the grass cuz the grass was moving like the velociraptors in Jurassic Park moved through cover. Drake was behind him. The bird would freeze and then take off in another direction. Since Drake was following his nose and I could sort of see the bird, I kept trying to block for Drake. So we zigged and zagged in that stretch of cover for five minutes, me keeping the bird from dashing into the stubble field and Drake just on his heels. Until FINALLY the pheasant outsmarted himself and found himself pinned in a little depression with the ditch full of water behind him, me on the other side and Drake barreling up the cover heading straight for that little depression. The pheasant tried to make another dash to freedom but here came Drake and once again he was my hero! He was doing a much better job than I was in our partnership that day. Drake once again danced and got loved on and we slowly worked our way back to Steve, letting Drake take it easy before we set off again for more pheasants. He worked hard and it was showing but he was still game for more.
Sometimes all Steve can do is shake his head at me in wonder, but hey we had two pheasants and Drake was showing off how awesome he was even as an old feller.
Off we set. Continuing our trek through Drake's Place, up to the hun corner. Sure enough, they were up there and Steve got two out of the covey! There was also no need to run after the little cuties because Steve is a much better shot than I am.
As I said before, there was a lot of wheat still standing so the next section of Drake's place was filled in with lots more cover than is normal. We walked the edge of the wheat and stubble and put up a lot of roosters. Sadly, I was shooting poorly and getting quite reproachful looks from Drake. Steve was waiting for us to finish that short walk. I think he didn't expect much because he said go on, I'll wait for you here. There was LOTS of well deserved razzing about my shooting abilities. Ah well. Story of my life. Drake was still doing an excellent job. We pushed down the hill, through the wheat to another pond surrounded by some thick grass. Drake put up a pheasant for Steve and Steve showed me how it was done. He makes it look so easy sometimes. And I know Drake appreciates not chasing cripples all over the county.
We got into the thickest part of the grass when Drake goes crazy wiggly. In no time at all, another long tailed rooster comes up and he makes the mistake of flying into my shot! Drake has no problem finding him and there I am limited out! Drake was dancing yet again in his pleasure and rarin to go find him some more.
The sun was beginning to sink and Drake was showing the amount of work he had done so we headed back towards the truck. It was looking to be one gorgeous sunset too.
Drake put up another couple of hens and he began working down the hill towards Steve, when up pops another rooster! Drake brought me Steve's rooster and promptly lay down. He was ready to be back at the truck. I was so proud of the old fella though. And I know Steve was too.
He more than earned his post hunt treats. He more than earned the praise and loves that he got for showing off how awesome he still is. He definitely showed off that yup he is old but he is still Da Bombdiggity! And he more than earned his spot in front of the fireplace heater.
The end of that trip came waaaaay too quickly for more reasons than I didn't want to go back to work.
Drake is now retired. Sadly his heart and the desire is still strong but his body is failing him. I knew that that part of my trip would be the last Montana hunt I had behind him, though he would continue to make the trip as long as he is alive. That was his last awesome pheasant hunt that I got to be a part of and what a helluva pheasant hunt it was.
B definitely stepped up into her well-deserved place in the ranks of Da Bombdiggity this year. I expect she will continue to shine for years to come.
Dani
Let me introduce two of the main players:
B: at the time a 2.5 year old English Setter. She had two seasons hunting in Montana and the quail woods of Florida under her belt. She is an absolute sweetheart that has her own opinions on when a person should speak or not. She is hell on lizards and geckos. She loves long runs on the prairie or in the woods. She has one absolutely gorgeous point. She is also the only pointy dog I know or have ever heard of that reliably points woodducks. She does it with as much style as she does on pheasants or grouse. When she gets in trouble, she immediately apologizes and then once she has deemed the apology finished, she gets harumphy with you for getting mad at her. She is an absolute doll when it comes to being laid on her back and having to undergo her nightly spa treatments of de-burring, de-cactusing, de-thorning and checking over her feet, but she will never let you forget to give her her cookies for putting up with the torture. She is too smart for our own good sometimes. But do not let her quirks fool you. She has developed into one helluva bird dog and we have much to be proud of her for and lots to crow about.
Drake: at the time an 11 year old Labrador. He had hunted birds with us for six seasons across multiple states from the west coast to the east coast. He has excelled in the mountains, the duck marsh and across the prairies. He is an excellent dead bird finder and would not give up until he had found his bird. He is an absolute love slut and wants to be petted and loved unless he is hunting or eating. I challenge anyone with pointy dogs to find a dog with a more intense point than Drake has when there is food on the table. He would point unblinkingly forever. He has needed yearly reminders that hunting is a two species game that he participates in with us people, but one reminder a year is usually all he has ever needed. He very well knows that when the gun is loaded, it is time to hunt. Once it is unloaded, we are going to relax now. He is my first hunting dog and he makes me look like a lot better trainer than I know how to be. We have lots to be proud of him for and much to crow about.
We head to Montana in September mainly so that we can get up there and chase Sage Grouse as they are only open in September. They are one of my favorite birds to hunt and we usually run across sharptails and the occasional hun covey while we are out in search of sage grouse. Sage grouse are found in wide open spaces, not surprisingly where there is a great deal of sage brush. It is not quite like quail hunting or pheasant hunting where there are often obvious areas that attract birds more than others. Like cattail sloughs or brushy areas. It is the kind of country that seems to look the same all over and where having a dog that covers a great deal of ground is far more ideal than a dog that you keep close. It is the kind of country that B was bred to hunt. Now that is not to say that Drake is some slouch and cannot find birds because he has done very well for us on sage grouse but it certainly is not the most ideal country to hunt him in.
This would be B's third trip for sage grouse. Her first trip she was a 7 month old puppy and figuring many, many, many things out. The second year was a very tough year for us and the birds. The hurricanes made us late to Montana so we didn't even get to hunt sage grouse and the drought in Montana was so bad that when we did get up there, we stopped in our sage grouse areas for a few days of letting the dogs blow off steam and looking for sharptails and huns, we saw 5 sage grouse total and that was while we were driving around. It was a very hard year for the birds. This year was hopefully going to be a much better year bird-wise and the year she REALLY turned on to sage grouse.
September in MT can be brutally hot, quite comfortable or even quite cold. When we got there, it was more on the brutally hot side so we had to be sure to get out early in the mornings for our hunts and then later in the evenings. There is one particular stretch of BLM land where we can go from one stock tank to another and make a big route through the sage looking for grouse. The tanks are about a mile apart so the dogs are always happy to get to them.
Well, the second morning we were looking for sage grouse, we had made our way along our track to the farthest stock tank. After sitting for a while, cooling the dogs off and having a snack we got up to go and off B went. Like she had just gotten out of the truck and then SLAM! She goes on point! First point of the day that I had seen (Drake and I usually hunt somewhat apart from Steve and B since we try to hunt the thicker sage to see if grouse are hiding there). Now, Drake is no fool and has learned that when B freezes like that, there are birds. I did not want him screwing up her first sage grouse find and so I had a hold of him as we walked up to her point. Just as Steve was stepping in front of her, B starts moving again. She does not seem to be relocating, just seems to have lost the scent. But she is working a tighter section of wind than she normally does. She ran back and forth until she was a couple hundred yards out and BAM! Another hard point! Sage grouse can run pretty far we have found. So we hurried up there, me keeping hold of Drake yet again. And once again when Steve stepped in front of B, she began moving again. And so this went on over a half a dozen points or so, covering about half a mile until B went on point and stayed on point when Steve stepped in front of her.
Drake was at my side and I made him sit and stay. He was beginning to get the hang of this but I was taking no chances with him screwing up B's point. Steve took a couple of steps and up came a big grouse and then a couple more! B had led us to a small covey of grouse! After Steve shot, B rushed after her prize. Drake was released to let him go get a snootful and he got another bird up out of the sage. Apparently, they weren't all bright enough to fly away. So while we were crowing about what a great job B had done, I was keeping an eye on Drake. I have learned to keep close enough to Drake even after we thought that the covey disappeared so that when that late bird got up, I was able to bring him down. Now we were double crowing! There was a straggler left behind in B's covey so that even Drake got a piece of the action! We sat there for awhile admiring our prizes, cooling the dogs off because the point-relocate-point-relocate action was not slow and the day was heating up quickly. B was VERY PLEASED with herself. There was no doubt about it. That girl had worked those sage grouse from a long distance off and brought us right to them. We had us a sage grouse setter to go with our sage grouse lab! She had proven herself to be Da Bombdiggity!!!!
After sitting there for a bit, having a snack, cooling the dogs off, taking a few pictures it was time to head back towards the truck. There was still a good bit of sage to cross though. There could be more sage grouse between us and the truck. When we were nearing the last tank, B went on point. I didn't see it because we had been split up and Drake and I were working low while Steve and B were working high. Drake had gotten on to some scent and was following it as fast as he could and I was following him, whoaing him on occasion to let me catch up. When we came to the top of the hill, B was not too far away and Steve was coming up close to her. By chance we were meeting at about the same time. This time Drake was VERY good and stayed while we walked in on B's point. The world exploded around us as we stepped in front of B! There were sage grouse everywhere! Steve and I picked our birds, took our shots and wouldn't ya know it? We each filled our limits! Drake was off like a shot after his bird and brought it to me, dancing in his delight as B proudly brought back her bird to Steve.
That morning set the tone for the rest of the trip on sage grouse. B had many excellent finds, as did Drake. And when we were not out hunting, B was trying to hurry us along and to quit with the sightseeing (apparently she does not care if it is too hot outside to hunt).
And there was a good bit of sightseeing. Because there was a lot of neat stuff to see.
Coming in to town one evening, we were greeted by these beauties. I was shocked to see them still in velvet.
The end of the sage grouse part of the trip came far too soon, but it was one heckuva stop on our adventure.
I had to fly home to go back to work but I eagerly waited for the next part of my adventure to start. Drake gets to stay when I leave so he gets to enjoy himself hunting and Steve gets a second dog, just in case. Plus it saves me a TON because flying a dog anymore is outrageous. Anyway, I flew back to MT in October for some pheasant hunting. I was able to stay five days and it was pretty dang chilly. There was one day we decided naaaaaaaaaaaaaah the trailer is almost being blown over by the bitter wind, I think we'll just stay inside and watch movies.
The beginning of the trip started pretty fun. On the way to camp from the airport, we drove a few roads looking to see what there was to see and right there in the middle of the road was a whole limit of pheasants! Just standing there looking at us like whatcha gonna do? We creep up on them (in a great big pickup) and they slowly meandered to the side of the road and we told them just how lucky they were and that I oughtta just sic my dog on them just for being so brazen. They should know better than to parade around in the middle of the road with no cares in the world. They just flipped me the bird. Can you imagine?
Pheasant numbers are down where we hunt. I am sure part of that was the previous summer's drought followed by an incredibly nasty winter and then add in the huge loss of CRP in the area and it made sense that pheasant numbers were down. Also this year, even into middle October there was lots of still wheat and peas standing in the fields everywhere. The ground was too wet to get wheat out and pea prices were too low to make it worth the farmers time and money to get the peas out. So LOTS of places and LOTS of food for the pheasants. But you could find them if you looked hard enough.
There is one corner that we call Drake's place. There is a pond with a thick cattail slough around it and some tall thick grass around that. All of it surrounded by wheat with a little dirt road that travels through it. There are always pheasants there even in the leanest of years. We had an afternoon hunt planned there with just him and it turned out to be one helluva hunt. He proved that even though he is old, even though he has arthritis, even though he is no longer as fast as he once was, he is still Da Bombdiggity on thick cover pheasants!
It was a cold afternoon (by my standards...Steve was comfortable). The sun was out but it was breezy and the bitter cold weather was coming. You could smell it in the air. It wasn't there yet though so we were going to make the most of the hunt. Drake was rarin' to go. He was dancing around our feet, making his little excited grunting noises and telling us to hurry it up. He is ready to go. Why do we need all of these packs and jackets and all this extra stuff? Just get your guns and shells and LET'S GO!
FINALLY we set off and began working the cover strips that led up to the back side of the pond. We have hunted there before and we had a pretty good idea of where the pheasants tend to hang out. Drake no longer crashes through the thick stuff like he used to. He works the edges until he smells something that gets him interested in working through that thick grass. And it was THICK. So I walked the thick stuff while he walked the edges. We flushed several hens but we just couldn?t seem to find a rooster. But we kept working it.
Usually by the time we get to the far side of the pond, we have put up at least one rooster but it wasn't looking good for us. Just as we were stepping on to the far edge of the pond to get a drink, Drake goes crazy working the cover and up pops a rooster! I shot and winged him but he kept flying and I did a poor job of following up. We watched as the rooster flew and then sorta fell out of the sky on the other side of the little dirt road the pond is near. The other side of the road has thick grass and some water and then some harvested wheat. We don't usually hunt over there because it is such a small strip of grass and we never find birds there. But off Drake and I went to go find that bird while Steve waited for us up on the hill so that we could continue the hunt.
A shame that Steve didn't get the next part on video because what followed was immensely entertaining for him. When we got over to the other side of the road and began working where I thought the bird had gone down, Drake lit off and I thought HOT DAMN he's got him! Then he headed straight into the stubble field and I was like WHAAAAATTT? But I have seen pheasants hide in stubble and I didn't see them until I was super close so I let Drake work for a bit while I stood where I thought the bird had fallen. Steve told me later that as he watched he was thinking "get Drake out of the stubble! No self-respecting pheasant will run out of cover into a stubble field."
I called Drake back in to the thick stuff where I was and told him Dead Bird and he began working the area hard again. In no time at all, he had found our bird! A gorgeous rooster! Drake danced in his delight at doing such a good job and I rubbed him all over for being my hero yet again. We decided that since we were down there, we may as well finish walking that little strip of grass because you never know. Leaving Steve to watch us, we walked the strip and in no time at all, Drake was wiggly and up popped this longtailed rooster! I shot and only crippled this bird enough to keep it from flying away. AAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH! I hate crippling birds and that seems to be all I was doing! Well, Drake was on this bird pretty quick but being not as fast as he once was and the grass being super thick, he was JUST behind that bird as it ran through the grass. And it ran pretty quick too...right out into the stubble field. Drake is still faster than me so there goes that pheasant, Drake too close behind for me to shoot and me running as fast as I could to get to them. Off the three of us go into another stretch of grass that backs right up to a water filled ditch. The bird ran one way, I could see him moving in the grass cuz the grass was moving like the velociraptors in Jurassic Park moved through cover. Drake was behind him. The bird would freeze and then take off in another direction. Since Drake was following his nose and I could sort of see the bird, I kept trying to block for Drake. So we zigged and zagged in that stretch of cover for five minutes, me keeping the bird from dashing into the stubble field and Drake just on his heels. Until FINALLY the pheasant outsmarted himself and found himself pinned in a little depression with the ditch full of water behind him, me on the other side and Drake barreling up the cover heading straight for that little depression. The pheasant tried to make another dash to freedom but here came Drake and once again he was my hero! He was doing a much better job than I was in our partnership that day. Drake once again danced and got loved on and we slowly worked our way back to Steve, letting Drake take it easy before we set off again for more pheasants. He worked hard and it was showing but he was still game for more.
Sometimes all Steve can do is shake his head at me in wonder, but hey we had two pheasants and Drake was showing off how awesome he was even as an old feller.
Off we set. Continuing our trek through Drake's Place, up to the hun corner. Sure enough, they were up there and Steve got two out of the covey! There was also no need to run after the little cuties because Steve is a much better shot than I am.
As I said before, there was a lot of wheat still standing so the next section of Drake's place was filled in with lots more cover than is normal. We walked the edge of the wheat and stubble and put up a lot of roosters. Sadly, I was shooting poorly and getting quite reproachful looks from Drake. Steve was waiting for us to finish that short walk. I think he didn't expect much because he said go on, I'll wait for you here. There was LOTS of well deserved razzing about my shooting abilities. Ah well. Story of my life. Drake was still doing an excellent job. We pushed down the hill, through the wheat to another pond surrounded by some thick grass. Drake put up a pheasant for Steve and Steve showed me how it was done. He makes it look so easy sometimes. And I know Drake appreciates not chasing cripples all over the county.
We got into the thickest part of the grass when Drake goes crazy wiggly. In no time at all, another long tailed rooster comes up and he makes the mistake of flying into my shot! Drake has no problem finding him and there I am limited out! Drake was dancing yet again in his pleasure and rarin to go find him some more.
The sun was beginning to sink and Drake was showing the amount of work he had done so we headed back towards the truck. It was looking to be one gorgeous sunset too.
Drake put up another couple of hens and he began working down the hill towards Steve, when up pops another rooster! Drake brought me Steve's rooster and promptly lay down. He was ready to be back at the truck. I was so proud of the old fella though. And I know Steve was too.
He more than earned his post hunt treats. He more than earned the praise and loves that he got for showing off how awesome he still is. He definitely showed off that yup he is old but he is still Da Bombdiggity! And he more than earned his spot in front of the fireplace heater.
The end of that trip came waaaaay too quickly for more reasons than I didn't want to go back to work.
Drake is now retired. Sadly his heart and the desire is still strong but his body is failing him. I knew that that part of my trip would be the last Montana hunt I had behind him, though he would continue to make the trip as long as he is alive. That was his last awesome pheasant hunt that I got to be a part of and what a helluva pheasant hunt it was.
B definitely stepped up into her well-deserved place in the ranks of Da Bombdiggity this year. I expect she will continue to shine for years to come.
Dani
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