Not just for the birds

Category: Hunting accounts

  • Spectral Sunday

    The sound of chukar hills clapping
    The sound of chukar hills clapping

    Graded student papers all day, and by 2 p.m. Angus and I were looking at each other. “Is this the best we can do?” It’s one of the things I like most about having a canine best friend. You support each other’s habit. Not much paw- and arm-twisting necessary here. The fog had started to lift and the chukar hills morphed into recognition to the west.

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    Sunday afternoon looking west to the Wallowas

    Ten minutes later we were on the road. After a 30-minute drive down into the icy canyon I pulled off at a place I’d never tried, and hiked straight uphill from the shadows to the light. It was cold and windy, and the snow had burned off, leaving the ground peanut-buttery. Lots of greenup, even more wind. The birds would be catching the fading rays in hollows out of the steady, icy wind coming from the southeast.

    I got to the top of the first plateau, and was surprised that Angus hadn’t gotten birdy in the spots that looked good. They must be higher. Up we went.

    In the first hollow at the next level up Angus got really birdy, and a small covey of Hungarian partridges rose downwind of him. I shot once and watched three birds tumble to the ground. Bizarre. Angus got one, I snagged the other, and the third, which I think had only gone down because it got tangled with the other two, escaped (hopefully unharmed). Still, that’s a first for me.

    As if I were tempted to feel too proud of myself for the “augmented double,” catching the second bird cautioned me against it. As I reached down to grab the wounded Hun, writhing on its back, it shrieked, with its mouth wide open, like I’ve seen baby birds do waiting for regurgitated worms from a caring parent. But instead of giving it nourishment for a lovely life ahead I was ending it. I grabbed the frightened Hun, and she scratched me with her feet while I suffocated her and watched her eyes go opaque.

    I spent the rest of my time that spectral afternoon following Angus around as usual, hunting. I killed one more bird and saw lots more than I’ve seen in a single outing this season. And I’ll go out again as soon as I can. But I wonder how long I’ll want to keep it up. It’s weird to say that about your favorite pastime.

  • Chukar Freeway

    Bob’s smarter half here, again: Winter has arrived and so has the first dusting of snow. Yesterday’s hunt was in 8 degree weather, not including the stiff wind chill factor. We hoped that the birds would be hunkered down and easy to find in big groups. It doesn’t usually get this cold in December, so we didn’t know what to expect. We started looking for the birds high on the mountain and found lots of fresh tracks on the slopes facing out of the harsh wind. Those tracks headed up the hill and right over the edge. As tough as we think we might be, dropping down off the side of a steep, snow covered rocky slope to chase the birds to the bottom on frozen grass and rocks would probably be stupid.

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    Fresh tracks in the snow.
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    Chukar freeway right over the steep edge.
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    I’m telling you, they were just here.
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    I know they’re down there somewhere.

    Yesterday, the birds had the advantage over us. We only lasted out in the bitter cold for just over two hours. Angus and the kid didn’t complain one time about the cold. They both probably would have stayed out there all day if we’d let them. Just seeing the tracks was motivation to head out again, soon. Next time, though, we might change our strategy and start low and hopefully try to head them off at the pass.

  • Retrochukar

    Seems weird to call something from 1992 retro, but there you go. There it went. Doing my sporadic chukarstalk on youtube, I found this video from Idaho Fish & Game (not to be construed in any way as an endorsement thereof). Some good information about chukar hunting, and some good footage. The Brittany doesn’t hurt any, either…

  • November Bounty

    Heading up, again.
    Heading up, again.

    Beautiful sunny weather yesterday for our hunt with old friends and new hunting friends. It was a Brittany trifecta with Angus being the old man of the trio. We went to a now not secret spot that we’d hunted before earlier in the season. The place yesterday is higher in elevation than our usual spots but we wanted to hunt it before the snow flies since the farmers around here tell us to be prepared for a snowy winter.

    Angus found and pointed a covey of Huns early in the hunt while the other two young Brittanys were running around playing while honing their own hunting skills in the process. The birds flew with a couple of unsuccessful shots fired. We chased them around a steep hillside until Angus disappeared. Our friend Greg motioned that Angus was down the steep hill pointing. Immediately, a couple of huge blue grouse flew from the tall fir trees and within a second feathers were slowly falling from the sky like magical snow. Surreal. The one Greg hit was so big the dogs didn’t want to retrieve it.

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    Greg admiring the grouse.
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    Ava and Paddy sniffing grouse

    We hiked up and down the hills with our hunting party. At the end of the day we all ended up with two grouse, two chukar, and a Hun that young Ava found and pointed.

    The descent with a few of our group
    The descent with a few of our group

    I’d never thought chukar hunting before as a social or group activity, but it was nice spending time in the outdoors with people that enjoy the sport as much as we do.

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    Red legged devils.

    We were pleased that we finally got some birds and had enough to make wild bird risotto for dinner. On the way home we made a very quick stop at the local general store to purchase a few things to go along with it. We left Angus and Ava in the back of the pickup. Angus took it upon himself to pull one of the two blue grouse from Bob’s bird pouch and chow down on the breasts and part of a leg within the time it took us to buy a bag of tortilla chips and a couple cans of chicken stock. It was the first time he’s eaten any birds, and the last time we’ll leave him alone with dead fowl. He must have been hungry. The grouse meat probably served him better than it would have us since he worked way harder than we did. Good dog. Bad dog?

    Anyway, we had plenty of meat for the risotto and made a wonderful dinner, and had a great toast to thank the birds, dogs, and our friends for visiting.

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    I didn’t do it!

  • The Beauty of Chukar Hunting

    Angus and Leslie
    Two of my favorite creatures in one of my favorite places

    Thanksgiving is coming, and since I’ve been complaining about the scarcity of birds I thought I might refocus a little here.

    I think one of the reasons I love chukar hunting so much is that the landscapes I get to inhabit are particularly compelling to me. I remember driving through dense alpine forests on some forlorn road trip, anxious to get to my destination, and wishing I could stop the car and crawl into the deep, dark woods. That was before I got a dog and discovered the arid high desert habitat laced and punctuated with bromus tectorum, bunch grass, and bitterbrush. Basalt steeps. Lichen walls. Vistas unlike any I’d seen except in eastern Turkey long ago. It’s almost as if the birds don’t even matter (while they’re precisely why I’m there).

    Anyway, I have lots to be thankful for, including my wife Leslie for being so good with the cameras and such a wonderful companion. And my new friends, young and old, who’ve decided I might be worth putting up with out there. And, of course, Angus (who redeemed himself in tremendous fashion last night, just as it was getting dark, by retrieving a sure-to-be-lost winged quail from the densest of slough-thickets).

    Enjoy a few of the sights I’ve been blessed to experience this season: