Member Details - Tips from This Hunt
- Don’t get greedy for
that double, follow the first bird you shoot at until it falls or you are
sure it wasn’t hit and gets out of range.
- Fresh powder snow over
4-inches will keep smaller game birds from moving right away in the
morning. With an overnight snowfall
of 6-inches we found partridge near their roosting spots late into the
morning.
- There comes a point
when your dog is doing good that you have to learn to trust her and follow
on occasion instead of leading.
- Be sure of your target
(always) but be especially aware when hunting areas with game birds that
are not in season.
- Take someone hunting;
it can be as rewarding as shooting your own birds.
Lost Birds and a Big Bow
By
I can’t believe it, I only found time to get in one legitimate blast and cast trip this year. At least this one was memorable. With his newfound passion for bird hunting Jason sweet-talked his wife into letting him go on another hunting trip before the season would end. Well, not really sweet-talked, he made a trade and promised to spend every weekend in February doing something with the family…no hunting or fishing. I know he thought he was making a great barter since hunting would be over in 2 weeks and fishing wouldn’t have gotten hot yet. But on the drive home he was already thinking about what deal he could make so he could go the following Saturday, the last weekend of the season!
The
plan was to stop in the morning to hunt for Hungarian partridge and chukar and
then in the middle of the day swing down to the
Our hunt started slow, it was an hour before I even thought Z actually got a little birdie. We had made a swing around the cliff face we parked above and I was starting to get a little concerned. We were heading back in the direction of the truck when Z went on the first point of the morning. She was staunch; no flagging or quick looks out of the corner of her eye at me. I figured the birds were under her nose. We had a steady westerly breeze, not strong but not faltering either. Jason and I moved into the sage, 5 yards, 10 yards, 20 yards, 30 yards…I look back at Z and she’s still hard on point. I look at the ground no tracks, no droppings and there is fresh snow from the night before.
I relocated Z and she moved stiffly for about 40 yards, quarters the wind a little and comes back on line with her previous point and locks up again. We move in again but the same scenario; point, relocate and no sign of birds. The only thing that changed was the distance she was willing to move when relocating, just creeping 10 yards straight ahead before stopping again. We must have played this game 4-5 times until she wouldn’t move. As we walked in on the last point a large covey of huns got up and I was able to bring two down. When I turned to Jason he was trying to pretend he hadn’t taken a shot. I also looked around on the ground and these birds were in this very spot from the time Z first pointed, no tracks coming in from anywhere, you could see where the birds had been roosting and feeding. Her first point was a hundred plus yards away! Now I know that’s unusual and I can only attribute it to that instance when everything was just right. It was awesome.
The partridge were along the edge of a small stream so we decided to follow the stream uphill for the possibility of a repeat of events. Boy oh boy, were we happy we did. Jason soon shouted over to me there were birds running up ahead. I looked up and my first thought was, pheasants? They quickly flushed, a hundred yards ahead of us and it was then I knew they were sage grouse. This was the first time Jason had every seen a sage grouse so it was pretty exciting and I think his comment was, “that made the trip worth it right there!” We watched the grouse light on the mountainside and start running uphill. Unexpected sightings are always welcomed on a hunting trip.
We
moved up the drainage and then moved westward and upward. We were moving from drainage to drainage
following Z to point after point. We
were having a grand time, we flushed the sage grouse again and Jason got in on
a nice covey of huns. He worked in on a
point and when the birds got up I watched the first bird hit the ground as the
second one started its tumble. Just a
couple weeks before Jason had harvested his first Hungarian partridge on the
wing and this week he accomplished another new feat. This hunts first for Jason was taking his
first double and he did it twice, once on huns and once on chukar! Yahoo! Congrats Jason.
We were working in on another point in this small drainage, the northerly facing slope we were working down had tall sage and the southerly facing slope had a rocky outcrop. Jason was downhill and closer to Z when the chukar took to the air out of the edge of the sage. They were up and over the rocks out of sight in a blink. But not before we had each pumped out 2 tail-chasing shots. I watched in amazement because I didn’t see a single bird falter in its flight as the flock disappeared around the ridge. I hadn’t shaken my head twice when Z was on a downed bird. I hadn’t even seen that one fall.
We
moved to the top of the opposing rocky outcrop to chat and briefly relive the
moment before. We had been talking for a
couple minutes and I was just starting to wonder where Z was when she appeared chugging
uphill towards us…with another bird in her mouth! Jason and I do the “yahoos” and “that’s
awesome” comments as Z retrieves the bonus bird to hand. We return to the reliving the moment
discussion with a little more energy in our voices. We were just about to move on when from below
us, yet again, Z is climbing uphill with a third bird in her mouth! I point and say the only intelligent and
logical comment a person could make at this moment, “Holy Shit, she’s got
another bird!” It was a great moment,
one I will always remember.
The next great moment was my turn. We had worked our way to the ridgeline and were approaching the largest rocky area on the ridge. We had stopped and were discussing turning around when at about 150 yards ahead I see Z getting birdie. Jason stays put and I race ahead, she had disappeared below a small cliff face and I just had this feeling this was serious, bird serious I mean. This was one of those moments where having watched your pup work wild birds so often you just know by her body language, even at 150 yards, that she has birds close. This was a test too, do you trust your dog and your reaction to what you are seeing or try calling her back. I trusted her, my major lesson for this hunting season was, Trust Z.
I stopped the moment I saw her on point at the bottom of the small cliff, not because I was admiring the point (which always amazes me) but because I knew if I flushed the birds my heavy breathing would affect my shooting. I took the 30 seconds I needed to even out (trusting Z again to hold) and then moved towards the top of the cliff. Just as I stopped on the edge a chukar popped up and stood on a rock below me for a brief second, his mistake. He flushed slightly left and I dropped him cleanly but that’s when the fun started. The shot started the intermittent cycle of chukar after chukar blasting out from the rocks below me, one to the left, a pause, two straight out, a pause one on a curve to the right, another single to the right and so on. Fifteen to 20 birds came out of those rocks in the classic style of late season chukar, singles and doubles with birds still holding, I think they are hoping you empty your gun before they are forced to get up. My gun jammed because of an incomplete pump and I missed a shot, which left me with only 3 birds from that group, I should have had 5!
We
got a lot of shooting in and in the end partridge were literally dropping on
the ground out of my game bag. Ok, maybe
it was due to the fact I wasn’t packing them in well enough but I did loose 3
birds from my bag. I ended the day with
9 or 10 birds harvested and Jason walked out with his best harvest ever of 4
birds. At about noon he turned and asked
if we should keep hunting since the shooting was so hot and Z was rocking, or
head to the river. We agreed that we had
our great day on the slopes and it was time to turn our attention to the water
and our fly rods.
We
drove to the S.F. Boise below Anderson Ranch dam. Special regulations are in effect this time
of year and combined with generally slow winter fishing we are happy that we had
most of the river to ourselves. We
suited up and moved into the river. We
were fishing the runs with nymphs and seeing as this river usually beats me up
pretty good I would say I had a great day.
We hadn’t been fishing for 20 minutes when Jason hooks into a fish and
it only took a moment of watching the action to realize this was a big
fish. He worked hard with that fish,
following it downstream, letting it run, applying side pressure but in the end
it just suddenly popped off. Jason’s
face was beaming with excitement through the disappointed look of loosing the
big one. He was having a grand day.
It
was my turn. I had a bead-head wholly
bugger with a tiny (20) flashback Copper John as a dropper, 4-inches off. I was fishing the bottom of a rapid as it
dropped into a nice hole. I’m not even
sure why I set the hook other then a subconscious hint at a hesitation in the
line. Zing! The fish headed straight into the deep
run. What I liked most was the initial
run pulled my forearm forward nearly parallel to the stream; I had a nice fish
on the line. I didn’t horse the fish and
luckily it didn’t break the surface slashing its head back and forth. The fish kept deep and in the current, and
this was to my benefit since I was fishing with a barbless hook, the line never
went slack. I was in no hurry and I
honestly couldn’t be as this fish took 5 good runs deep to the middle of the
run. Jason and I will always put down
our rods to take pictures of the nice fish we land but this was one of those
times where he kept fishing, knowing instinctively from watching the action
that it was going to be a while. I
finally worked this beautiful girl up to the shore, a 20-inch fat football
shape of bright colors. I was pumped
since this was my largest rainbow on a fly rod.
She fought hard, made me sweat more than once worrying that she would
break the line in the fast current. In
the end I was blessed to hold her for a couple pictures before slipping her
back into the river to thrill another angler.
Wow, what a day!
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