Pheasant Asylum

Dear Ron,

Well, I had an interesting time up at nine pipes. Here's a shorter rendition of a longer story, if you're interested:

Not knowing the area (and only having a brief conversation with Neil before leaving) I scoured each of the State parcels adjacent to the Refuge. It was a while before the dogs caught some scent and a while longer before we actually saw (very skittish) birds. The dogs pointed what must have been a trail where two hens had just run - the boys readjusted a couple times, but the birds had run a long ways already and flushed a good 100 yards out in front of us (no kidding).

A touch later, a hen and cock bird flushed well out in front of us, too, but I kept an eye on the male and got the dogs back on his trail. As the dogs closed in he flushed again, this time a bit closer. I pulled up, hesitating slightly (oops) as he was pretty far away and the cross wind was blowing hard. I decided, pulled the trigger and saw him dip ever so slightly. I was pretty sure he was winged - the hunt was on... Long story short, we tracked that rooster for about an hour - well, we searched for a track - there seemed to be no scent to find. The only thing I could surmise was that he'd buried himself in a small patch of cattails and was hunkered down biding his time. That, or dead. The dogs and I waded in to see what we could see.

The 'tails were dry and loud and we made a racket as we crashed through. The dogs needed some encouragement to keep hunting through the tangle. Soon I realized neither dog was making any noise. Hm... I made my way to them and sure enough, they were both on point, noses almost touching. I started sifting through the cover to recover my first MT pheasant (or so I thought), but soon realized the bird had snuck out and I could see (barely through the cattails) that he was out onto dry ground and trying to fly, unsuccessfully. I shot again, but apparently all my pellets spent their energy mowing cattails instead of finding that bird... With that, the dogs went crashing out after the bird (Dad never misses...ha!). I got myself free of the cattails just in time to see this bird running, dogs in tow, directly for the National Wildlife Refuge border 50 yards away. Literally bee-lining for the damn signs. The dogs were losing ground, but still close enough to prevent a shot.

...And so, there I stood, watching in dismay as my "first MT pheasant" went running into the safety of the Game Bird Embassy, barbed wire guards closing the gate behind his tail feathers...

I went and bought a beer, chatted with the guy in Ronan Sporting and Western, and spent the rest of the afternoon knocking on ranchers' doors for permission. Not many folks were home - not sure if opening day of rifle season may have had something to do with that - but I saw some great country and have a strategy for finding some more ground and, god willing, birds.

Anyway, I hope you had more success with ducks than I on the ditch-chickens - and that you enjoy Hawaii! I wish it weren't so darn expensive or I'd be there presenting some work from my dissertation. As it were, that will have to wait for another venue this coming spring.

I'll keep pestering from time to time, but if you'd like to get out, just drop me an e-mail or give me a ring. My cell phone number is 814.574.6128.

Happy hunting,

Alex

Toftrees Pheasants

Got back from DC today where Libby ran her marathon. She qualified for the Boston Marathon and ran at an amazing 8:20 mile pace. After heading to school, doing some work, and attending the always-exciting colloquium, I took the dogs out to Toftrees for a quick tromp. As they dogs had just spent 2 days in at Lyon's Kennels they were rowdy and raring to go. Unfortunately, although I had most of my gear loaded up, I'd forgotten any footwear besides the slip-on, "dress" shoes I'd worn to school. Not one to let such a minor matter get in my way, we headed out anyway figuring we'd just avoid wet and muddy spots...
A bird shot behind us fell within Porter's zone of awareness and was quickly retrieved - I had to bring it back to the party that had shot it and apologize for my dog's over zealousness and greed. Not unusual...
We parted and the dogs quickly got on some good scent - a running rooster. Porter was on it's tail and finally got the running bird up in the middle of some honeysuckle. One shot and the bird fell into the middle of the tangled vegetation. I could see Porter in there with the bird in his mouth unwilling yet to exit the protection offered by the bushes and relinquish his prize to me. I put T on heel and Porter quickly followed, bird in tow. A soft "give" got the bird from his mouth, although a good number of feathers remained. So funny to watch them get those out.
A long walk then, around the edge of the property, found us on the backside of "big ugly." Along one row the dogs got birdy and, after working for a while, pushed up a hen on the far side of a row of small aspens. I passed on the shot both because there was too much in my way and I'd hoped to fill the vest with two roosters today.
Another hen was busted up from along one of the water pipes; no point, no running, just bumped. Let that one fly, too.
As we approached big ugly, I sent the dogs into the cover on the right. I rounded the corner to the right and sent Porter, who had exited the cover, into one of the rows on my left. Hadn't heard T exit or move recently so I checked back to my right and caught glimpse of him on point. Headed into the cover. As I got close, two roosters flushed - one shot took down the one to my right. As I looked back toward T, I saw the second rooster falter...perhaps injured by another hunter? T was on it in a flash. Not wanting to get in trouble for having three birds, I called T off and retrieved the bird I'd just shot. I don't know what happened to that injured bird although it's likely T put it out of it's misery (if his summer groudhogs are any evidence). Too bad the game laws wouldn't allow for me to put that bird to use - I'm sure it will get "used," though, by some animal.
I've been enjoying the grouse woods (got one last week), but it was nice to be back at Toftrees and hear the cackle of roosters. And of course, walking back to the truck with tail feathers poking out the vest front is always nice.