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Opening weekend, Part I

I can honestly say I have never experienced what happened my first 4 days of the 2006 season. Part I, the first 2 days. Maybe you are picturing dogs on point after point or flushes with birds tumbling smoothly to the ground after the sharp report of the shotgun. Nope, I wish that was what the weekend was filled with. I only found a few doves and a single Dusky grouse, but don’t get me wrong it was still good.

My opening morning started just like the last five. Up in the Boise foothills watching the sun come up and then off to the races. But in total Justin and I only saw around 15 dove. He brought out 2, attributing part of his success to his new shotgun. I finally got a shot on the way out. I have not seen so few doves. Z was working hard and even pointed a couple coveys of huns for us.

The next traditional part of the day was to find a fishing spot to spend knee-deep in cold water during the heat of the day. I headed up to the S.F. Boise above Arrow Rock Reservoir. The weather was hot and after putting on some shorts and my Teva’s I waded out into the water. I fished while soaking up he sun. There were dozens of bright red Kokanee held up in the long run I was fishing.

I wound out the line and with a couple flicks of the right arm laid the rubber-legged Hare’s ear in the water. Ten seconds later I was fighting a nice little 14-inch rainbow and this one was giving me quite the little tussle. I paused for a moment, looking at the bend in the rod and reflected about the day so far; 1 dove for myself, 2 for Justin, Z was running and working hard and now I was fighting a chunky little rainbow racing by the waiting Kokanee…I smiled.

I moved up the river to a designated spot for a meet with Travis and Kevin but they were a little later than planned. The 6-inch distance on the map turned out to be quite the haul. They arrive after a 2-hour dusty ride from a beautiful, solitary, and cool place that actually held some Dusky grouse to pulling into a crowded campground with me in my shorts, no shirt, in the heat, and wading into the river to catch some more trout. Needless to say it wasn’t the best-laid plan; Honest! the two spots looked less than an hour apart on the map.

Well we generated Plan B…find the closest high spots. We picked a spot and moved on. I had hunted the general area once but not exactly where we decided to stop because of a 3-way intersection I didn’t quite remember, much less remember which one I took. But, the area looked promising. We scouted, hiked and ran a few of the dogs without running into a single bird. I couldn’t believe it. The country was a little dry but there were scattered creeks and the occasional seep…we could have easily expected at least one bird!

I think the thing we all probably missed the most with the slow weekend was seeing our dogs on point, it sure makes the heart jump. So, we spent the evening drinking a few beers and chatting about dogs, guns, birds, and telling stories of our past hunting adventures…building friendships.

We made a short run in the morning, but to no avail. We tried every type of habitat: sagebrush edge, ridgelines, valleys, and around seeps. We stomped around in some very likely areas and didn’t find any birds while we were hunting. Thanks for the hunt and I’m looking forward to the next one.

Opening weekend, Part II

I made my way home to clean up and pick up a couple other friends for another hunt. Unfortunately Joe had to bail at the last minute and that left Glenda and I. With the sudden loss of Joe I decided to try another new place that a friend of a friend said held some Dusky grouse. We headed back in the same direction but towards a popular area, Trinity Lakes.

Along the Trinity ridge road there was some prime looking habitat. But after the last two days I wasn’t as confident about my prospects. Ok, now don’t go getting the idea that I haven’t been having a grand time for my opening weekend. I had hunted with 3 new friends, got to watch Huntley work, and spent an evening as guys do at a campsite – drinking and bullshitting. I had hunted a couple of new spots and was about to try some more. I was now out with a dear friend on top of the world getting ready to try another hunt. Life was great.

We geared up and headed into the woods, Glenda trying out her brand new boots. Over the next couple hours we hunted places that looked so good I couldn’t help but have my gun at ready all the time. Z was working like a champ too and after walking through areas I would have bet my last dollar would hold birds we walked out empty handed. Yep, beat again. And who says hunting fools hens is easy, it can be but sometimes you just get sore legs and see pretty country.

The evening ended with a few cold beers, a beautiful sunset and a couple games of backgammon. After 3 days of carrying around my shotgun my shoulders were sore. Luckily, Glenda is a professional massage therapist. As the morning sun creped slowly into our world I was getting a shoulder massage when Glenda’s pup Oscar started to bark. This is nothing real unusual; my nickname for him is Bob Barker. But it was Glenda’s accompanying comment of “What kind of bird is that?” which brought me to the worst dilemma of the weekend. I knew the moment she spoke those words that there was a Dusky grouse outside and if I wanted to pursue it I would have to tear my way out from under the strong fingers working my sore right shoulder…bird…massage…bird…massage…ok call me obsessed, I quickly jumped up and was out the door.