After the last couple hikes with Angus, I’m feeling pretty lucky.
With Leslie away, it was just my best friend and me. We went to a new spot, the opposite direction from our normal compass bearing. Filtering through private land, endless rolling hills, creeks, basalt scatter, barbed wire in various states of repair, muddy tracks betraying several weight classes of vehicular passing, we reached some large parcels of BLM land. I picked a spot with some inviting chukar habitat and we set out.
Within minutes, Angus pointed. One bird went up, and I managed to wing it, but I knew it would run. Angus disappeared over the ridge top. I checked where I saw the chukar hit the ground, and found just a few feathers. Five minutes later, Angus appeared with the bird.
It went like that all day. A few singles, then a covey or two, then more singles. Angus was birdy all the time. Almost seven miles later, we made it back to the pickup. The next day, we went back to the same area, but hunted on the other side of the road. Carbon copy day. Chukar lucky.