Not just for the birds

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  • Blessed

    Blessed

    As usual, chukar hunting, like some of the best things in life, continues not to make much sense to me. What does make sense to me is that the fact that it doesn’t make sense is probably the reason I keep doing it, not necessarily so I can find some sense in it, but because it’s not subject to the rules of things that should make sense. Things that should make sense are problematic because when they don’t make sense, which always eventually happens, then you get all warped up and try to force something that can’t be forced. Something breaks, or needs to. There are things about chukar hunting that make sense, such as — duh — you need to remember to bring your gun, and your dogs, and all that other crap to make it happen. But that’s not the hunting. I’m talking about hunting. It makes no sense. I love it. That I’m able to do it and not feel obliged to understand it makes it my favorite blessing. I guess that’s why I’m writing about it on Christmas instead of doing it; I’d rather be out there, but there are things that need to make sense today that got in the way. Writing about it is a way of trying to have it make sense, but I’m not afraid I’ll turn it into an understood thing because it’s hunting. Hunting can’t make any sense. When it does, I’ll stop.

    So I’m glad I’m not yet sleeping in an alabaster chamber, partly because I’m not really sure about my level of meekness, but I’m happy to report that I’ve been touched by morning and by noon, several times, in the past week of hiking the chukar hills with our family. It’s been a particularly blessed week.

    Partly because we’ve made a more devout effort this season to hunt areas we’ve never hunted before. Surprise: it’s paid off. Everyone has his or her go-to spots, and ours seemed to have dried up this season, which is good and bad but overall a blessing I think. If the familiar spots had contained the numbers of birds we’d been accustomed to, we wouldn’t have expanded the repertoire and would have missed what’s been there all along but untouched by our feet. I hope there’s a lesson in this we can remember.

    Another blessed thing is that, as the season winds down, I’m amazed that each season we seem to lap more miles, elevation gain, and bagged game. This sounds like bragging (maybe it is), but it’s notable to me because it speaks of a growing desire for something: maybe it’s time with the dogs, especially one whose season itself is a miracle but also the other one who’s getting better each hunt (miraculous in itself when considering our beginning together). Maybe it’s a proof thing: can we do more even though our bodies don’t look or feel as fit and young as only a few seasons ago? Maybe we’re just dumber. Who knows? It makes no sense.

    I’ll take it. I feel blessed. I wish you all the same.

    It seemed miraculous that the antler-rubbed shavings still sat in a pile months after being scraped
    Peat’s ruffed grouse
    Peat’s dusky grouse
    Double chukar
    Peat’s haul Christmas eve: dusky grouse, chukar, and Hungarian partridge
    Peat and a Hungarian partridge
  • Best Chukar Hunting Pants: Orvis Pro LT

    Best Chukar Hunting Pants: Orvis Pro LT

    For the past two seasons I’ve been wearing the Orvis Pro LT Hunting Pants. I’ve worn them from opening day through the end of the season. Aside from a tiny hole on the seat of one of them, from getting hung up on some barbed wire fencing, they still look new.

    I love these pants.

    Taking a knee for chukar in the Orvis Pro LT Hunting Pants, as Peat admires his work

    They’re made of a fairly thin, “stretch-woven Cordura® fabric with advanced hydrophobic fibers woven in for better moisture control,” and are easily the most durable and comfortable pants I’ve ever hunted in. I wouldn’t say they’re “stretchy,” but they don’t bind when hiking up 45% slopes for an hour, as we did a couple of days ago. Despite how thin they are, I don’t get cold in them, but then my legs never get cold (I wish I could say the same for the rest of me).

    If I don’t say so myself, the Orvis Pro LT Hunting Pants do not make my butt look fat

    They’ve got some functionality I don’t use, but it’s not a detriment to the pants (but might add some unnecessary cost): hidden drawstrings in the pant cuffs, and a “quick-release tab” for a cell phone. I don’t carry my phone in my pants when hunting because it’d shatter in the first mile. Oh well.

    My previous favorite pants, L.L. Bean’s Technical Upland Pants, seem to weigh at least twice the Orvis pants, and aren’t nearly as durable. I’ve busted through extensive hawthorn thickets, brushed against coarse basalt, and taken copious soil samples with the Orvis Pro LT pants, and — as mentioned — they honestly still look new. The Bean pants’ soft-shell and Cordura fabric pilled up before the end of their first season, but the Orvis pants just keep taking it.

    They’re a bit pricy ($149 as of today, although I just noticed they’re on sale for $119), but given how comfortable and tough they are, I’m okay with that.

    Finally, in case you wondered, I bought these pants at full price with my own money, and even paid shipping (the same goes for all other gear I’ve reviewed). I wouldn’t say no to a “pro deal” with Orvis (or any other gear company, in case someone who matters is reading), but I don’t spend my time pursuing that sort of thing. Birds, books, bagpipes, and beer are way more interesting.

  • The Allure

    The Allure

    A big part of the appeal of chukar hunting for most of us is the beautiful places where these wild birds live. These captivating and lonely places are hard to get to, and they challenge us mentally and physically, but they continue to seduce us to them year after year.

    We daydream about the solitude and the spirit of these kinds of places when we’re not there, and we long for the slippery snow underneath our boots, the loose scree, the damp fog coming up from the valley floor, the sight of a dog pointing and retrieving, and, especially, the intoxicating views from the top of these sacred mountains.

    I can’t wait to go back.

  • Chukar Curry

    Chukar Curry

    According to our blog stats, we get hundreds of hits and searches for chukar and upland bird recipes every month. I have no excuse, but we haven’t posted a new recipe on here for a while; it’s been about five years to be exact. Thanks to Peat, Angus, Bob, and on good days when I can actually hit them, we’ve got a nice supply of chukar, huns, and grouse in our freezer to last quite some time for us and to also share in recipes for visiting friends and family.

    Grouse and chukar

    This chukar curry recipe was a hit with Bob’s students during his introduction to upland bird hunting class recently; some of the kids from our rural Idaho town had never tasted Indian food, or chukar for that matter, and became immediate fans of both. Two other teachers sampled the curry and immediately wanted the recipe. It must be a winner! The ingredients are pretty easy to find, plus it’s super easy to make. It is my new favorite go-to upland bird recipe.

    Chukar Curry

    serves 4-6

    8 chukar breast halves (from four birds) cut into 1-inch pieces*

    1 cup plain Greek yogurt

    4 garlic cloves, minced, divided

    2-inch piece ginger, grated, divided

    2 teaspoons kosher salt, divided, plus more to taste

    3 tablespoons canola or vegetable oil

    1 large yellow onion, minced

    1 1/2 teaspoons cumin

    1 15-ounce can crushed tomatoes*

    1 ½ teaspoons ground turmeric

    1 teaspoon garam masala*

    1 tablespoon ground coriander

    1 teaspoon cayenne powder

    ½ cup water

    Fresh cilantro for garnish. Optional but recommended.

    Combine chukar breast with yogurt, half of the garlic, ginger, and salt in a bowl and set aside to marinade. You can use it right away, in an hour, or up to a day refrigerated.

    In a large heavy pan with lid, heat oil. Once hot, add onions and cook 5-10 minutes, until browned at edges. Add cumin, remaining ginger and garlic and cook one to two minutes more. Add remaining salt, turmeric, garam masala, coriander, and cayenne, and cook for two minutes.

    Add canned tomatoes, chukar and yogurt marinade from bowl, plus water, stir to combine, and bring to simmer, stirring. Simmer 30 minutes over low heat, covered, stirring once or twice to ensure everything is cooked evenly.

    ~

    Serve over basmati or jasmine rice and a side of plain or garlic Naan.*

    * I’ve made this recipe using a mix of Huns, dusky grouse, and ruffed grouse cut into pieces instead of chukar. Adjust amount of bird meat to suit your taste.

    *If you use a 28-ounce can of crushed tomatoes, use half of the can and freeze the remainder in a freezer container to use when making the recipe again.

    *Garam Masala is an Indian spice.

    Adjust all the other spices to your taste; I’d call this recipe mild or “Cambridge Hot.” Add more cayenne if you want it “Bombay Hot.”

    *Naan is a flatbread that can be found in most grocery stores in the bread aisle or near the deli. Follow the directions on the package. If you can’t find Naan, white Pita bread can be used instead. Warm the pita bread in the oven at 400 degrees for about 5 minutes, remove from oven and brush with olive oil before serving.

    Enjoy!

    Chukar curry served over basmati rice and sprinkled with cilantro
  • Recovery

    Recovery

    Most of the snow lay clean and unmarked. We could tell nobody had hunted this spot since this first big snowstorm of the season, three days before. We were jacked. It was cold outside and early in the day, the pine trees, bushes, and grasses were frilled with snow, it was magical and beautiful. Hunting chukar in the snow does have its advantages; seeing fresh chukar tracks in the snow, you know they’re there.

    Somewhere?

    Chukar were here

    The snow was also unwelcome.

    The first mile uphill, I lead the rhythmic march following the legible impressions left in the snow by the dogs whenever they were running in a straight line. Angus stopped to pee ahead of me. I got up to him and stopped to examine the hole in the snow. It was a cruel reminder that his urine was tinged with blood, something we’re seeing more often recently.

    Following Angus

    Bob followed behind in my footsteps and as I slowed he’d take over. I felt like I was walking on a beach in deep thick sand. We rounded a corner and the strong wind once at our backs was now in our faces. I pulled up the hood on my jacket and Bob stopped to take off his hunting pack and as he was pulling out his wind shell he said, “I can’t believe I’m actually cold.” He’s never cold when we’re hunting. I stood there for a minute waiting for him until he said to go ahead, and once I reached the saddle I should turn left. Angus turned left before the saddle so I followed. We got to the top of a ridge but the windswept snow drifts were up to my knees. I saw Bob from a distance across the other side of the ridge and could see him signaling me over to him. I slowly made it over to him, threading my way through the sage and wobbily walking across the baby-head rocks and larger boulders underneath the snow, trying not to slip. From the top of the ridge we could see an area in the distance on another ridge where the snow was burned off. Bob said, “I think we should go over there, and get out of this wind. I bet the birds are all out of the snow right now.” I agreed.

    Don’t let the sun fool you, it was bitter cold

    We headed down the ridge and came across a perennial deer path worn by hooves heading up and down the mountain. We followed it for a while until we could see Peat and Angus looking birdy down in a tight draw. Angus immediately went on point while Peat was above him honoring him like a statue. Bob, below me, was slowly heading down towards Angus. The covey of a dozen chukar busted and flew like missiles straight downhill and around a corner. A single busted later and Bob got one shot off and I could clearly see it getting hit but it kept flying downhill until disappearing into the bushes about 400 yards below us. “We have to go get it!” I yelled over to Bob, “I saw where it landed!” We headed down and recovered it after Peat found it, only a wing sticking out of the snow.

    There are definitely times when you don’t shoot chukar no matter what for fear of not recovering the bird. During every point you analyze the situation and imagine where the birds might bust and fly, and, if you do manage to hit one, where they might land. Some dogs will go to the end of the earth to find a downed bird; Peat and Angus are that way and it’s not worth risking losing them by having them go down a super steep rocky cliff wall and fall or get stuck.

    Some people also say they don’t hunt birds in the snow because it’s unethical. Yesterday, I think the birds had the advantage on us because of the icy and slippery conditions, and getting to a point before the birds busted wild was almost impossible.

    Waiting with Angus

    Towards the end of the hunt, Bob and the dogs yesterday searched for at least 45 minutes for another chukar that went down. Bob saw it fall from the sky after shooting it and saw it hit the ground on a snowy, rocky hillside across a different ravine. I didn’t see it go down but he said he marked it and then yelled at the dogs, “Dead bird.” At this point in their lives they know what to do. Peat seemed part mountain goat, part house cat as his lithe body scoured the wall of snowy rocks, zigzagging back and forth and up and down, nose to the ground. I cringed from below, fearing he’d slip. He’s careful and cautious but also a little half-possessed while looking for downed birds. Peat couldn’t locate it, so Bob crossed the ravine to the other side to look for it while I stayed and watched from below. Once he got over there, the bird was nowhere to be found. Angus stayed closer to me and further below by busting through the brush looking for it. Between Bob, Angus, and Peat they couldn’t find the bird. Maybe it was buried in the snow? Maybe it landed only winged and stunned and then flew off and we didn’t notice.

    Heading up to look for the bird

    When do you give up and walk away?

    The sun was starting to set behind the mountain and it was getting colder by the minute. We’d already trounced around in the snow for 8 miles and were getting tired and the dogs were wet, it was time to start heading to the pickup before it got dark.

    This wasn’t the first time this season that one of us has lost a bird we saw fall to the ground. I’m not sure what my odds are because I don’t keep records, but I’d say that of 20 birds this season, I’ve only lost one. Bob hits more birds so I’d say his odds are slightly higher.

    It’s never easy leaving a dead or wounded bird behind, but it’s just part of hunting. I can still hear Bob’s choice words ringing in my ears when not finding downed birds; I’m sure nobody hates losing birds more than he does.