The last couple of weeks hunting with the dogs, and Leslie, have been swell. They’ve also been some of the most beautiful I’ve witnessed, perhaps a (very minor) upside to global warming. And we’ve seen lots of birds, which has made the dogs happy, which makes me happy, even with my typical streaky shooting. Friday after school, for example, we went out for a rare evening hunt, saw lots of chukar, and I shot 0-8. The next time we went out, yesterday, 7-7 (which included a 2-for-1 on the last shot).
Rabbit brush?
But it’s getting to be less and less about the shooting and more about watching Angus bounce back from a serious injury and Peat develop into a phenom. Friday was Angus’s first run in the field in two weeks, and he did well but covered less ground than normal; Peat outran him by a half-mile – the first time Peat’s run farther than his brother. Sunday, both dogs ran their PR, and again Peat bested Angus by a wee bit. Both dogs found birds – 5 coveys in the first hour. Fun.
One of the best days, unless you’re a partridge
Hunting solo with Peat while Angus was recuperating was a very good thing. Earlier in the season, Peat was letting Angus do the hard work, watching him from above, and then moving in to back Angus’s points. But when he found himself out there on his own, it was like watching a kid who’s just been given the keys to the ice cream parlor: he’d go wherever he needed to to find birds, and he did it, sometimes ranging out close to 200 yards, whereas before he’d stay within 50 yards. So yeah, I feel pretty grateful for how things are shaping up with Peat, as well as for Angus’s recovery and – at 9-1/2 years – his still-excellent work and condition.
Curiously, though, Peat is letting Angus outdo him on retrieves; yesterday Peat brought back just one of the 7 birds I killed. He still seems to have a tough time finding downed birds, something I hope to see improvement in. But at least he’s not assaulting Angus and stealing birds from him any more!
So here’s a longer-than-usual video, mainly because of the increased action of late. Enjoy.
The Kid and I set out to bag his first chukar. This is the fourth season he’s come along. He has never complained. He’s always been right there. If I ask his opinion on route options, he’s always up for even the hardest one. And when the hunt’s over and our bags are empty there’s not a shred of disappointment in his aspect, while I try my best to hide mine. I joke with him and his folks and grandparents about my being the World’s Worst Chukar Guide, and I actually get a little more nervous each time I bring him back without a bird. It’s starting to become less amusing. At least to me. He still says he wants to keep trying, and I’m grateful for that.
Sidehilling Splendor
On opening day we hiked 7.5 miles and climbed 2100′, my longest hunt ever. The dogs got birdy a few times and actually pointed twice. But the wind was fierce and the points were off. Near the end of the hike, down near the creek, the dogs ran into and scattered the biggest super-covey I’ve seen. We got to watch, from a slightly sad distance, nearly a hundred chukar run and scatter up a long scree slope. Despite bumping them a couple more times, separated by brush far too dense to traverse, we never got another chance. As I drove the curvy road home, while he ate his peanut butter sandwich (which might have contained Cheetos), he said he’d get one the next time. I’ve gotten to know this fairly quiet kid fairly well by now; he doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.
He couldn’t come with me the next day, which – history will tell us – means I’ll be in some chukar. We saw plenty, and had a few good points and got a few birds. Don’t say “jinx.” It’s not funny anymore. I’m trying not to have this complex, and don’t want him to develop one (unlikely), but it’s going beyond whatever. You know?
Anyway, we had a typically hot and – atypically – humid second day. We took the boat and went to a favorite spot which, we learned – not too surprisingly – soon after disembarking that several folks had been there earlier that morning and probably the day before as well. But I’d always found birds there so we moseyed along, albeit with slightly lowered expectations.
For once, though, my guess or reasoning or instincts or whatever you want to call it was right and the birds (at least the ones we found) were quite close to the water. Angus was well above me, though, accompanying my friend and Leslie, and busted a decent covey which I only saw as they sailed past me, several in range. Lucky. They could have gone anywhere. I hit one. Peat scurried to it, and brought it right back, no questions asked. Last year, he ate the first six chukar he got close to. Lucky again.
A while later, both dogs pointed solidly at the edge of a cliff near the water. I managed a double, but Angus could only find one bird. The second was a long shot and, although I couldn’t see where it landed, I thought it might have made it to the water even though it was a ways away. We looked and looked with both dogs. Peat suddenly headed straight down a steep rocky slope to the water. I thought he would find the bird, but he kept on going, swimming straight out into the wide river, leaving a trail of broken surface algae blooms in his wake. Yes, it was hot. After a good 20 or 30 minutes we gave up looking.
The little white speck heading out to sea is Peat.
Back at the boat, we decided to cruise past the cliffs to see if the second bird had made it to the water. More luck: we spied it on its back on a ledge of the cliff just above the water. Wanting to spare the tired dogs, and me, some effort, Cam generously made the retrieve, demonstrating his rock-climbing prowess. After his unprecedented retrieve we discovered that Angus had taken advantage of our collective distraction and eaten Cam’s roast beef sandwich on Oat Nut bread (his favorite).
Maybe Angus should have eaten the wrapper, too.
So my dogs and I, and our mutual friends, survived a long opening weekend in great form, and we’re eager to head back out in a few days.
Oh, and a warning: we saw two big rattlesnakes. Look into the rattlesnake shot you can get your dogs, and make sure you carry Benadryl and plenty of water in case of a bite. Luckily, Angus and Peat missed both reptiles, but it makes you think.
“I can’t wait for chukar hunting season,” Bob said just yesterday. We have just over 6 months now. We need time to recover.
These are some snapshots of the 2015/2016 season mostly from down in the Hells Canyon National Recreation Area and a few at the Cecil Andrus Wildlife Management Area. We feel blessed to live in a state where we can access lots of quality, picturesque public lands for hunting and other recreation. We hope it stays this way. If you’re a chukar hunter, you’re well aware of the fact that some very misguided (or worse) folks are trying to have our federal public lands transferred to state control out west, which could very likely be the end of hunting, or any kind of use, for the common man and woman (not to mention the fact that many state constitutions – including Idaho’s – specifically disavow any future claim on federally owned land). As Americans and joint owners of this public land, this is the greatest legacy we can leave future generations. You can’t put a price tag on that.
Our chukar hunting season was blessed by being able to hunt with good friends and family. There’s something indescribable about sharing this activity with people and their dogs we care about. Maybe the photos can talk a bit…
Bagpiping friend Rob came all the way out from western Washington with his young pointing Griffon, Talisker. (He even brought a bottle of the pup’s namesake!)
Early October days were among the hottest of the season. We picked a doozy of a hike for this one.
Talisker is a great dog, and quite fetching (get it?).
Oh my…
What you do after a long haul.
Hunting with my brother Geoff and his son Porter was a treat.
Father and son are super-fit and covered tons of ground.
This one’s for Donner, Geoff’s dog, who had to stay home on their trip out this fall (this was taken in January 2015).
Hunting with The Kid for the third season in a row. He’s tough, smart, funny, and I’ll soon be watching him take off up hills ahead of me while I try catching my breath…
The Kid got his very own shotgun this year, and shoots left-handed. He came close but is still looking for his first chukar.
Peat took a liking to The Kid and has promised to point lots more birds for him to shoot next season.
Cam was intrepidly good company.
Cam gets up and down the hills with ease.
Angus partnered with the shooter nicely on this Hungarian partridge in December.
Didn’t get any photos of Dave hunting with us this year, but this classic old-school look from Dave last year shows his style. He’s always got something interesting to tell us…
Dave’s Hun from last fall.
Angie, Allan (with Quigley and Emma), me (with Angus and Peat), and Mike (with Paddy), on a blustery Halloween eve. Lots of birds, even more than we had dogs! Angie and Mike shared a great meal with us while camping in Hells Canyon. We hope to get out with them more next year in their new stomping grounds.
Treat-hounds take a break from the action.
Bryan is the figure in the upper left. He can move. His dog Bodie is up there somewhere, too. I wasn’t able to get any photos of Bryan up close.
Angus, probably watching Bryan and Bodie on New Year’s Eve. This was the coldest hunt of the season, which felt even colder because we took the boat. Brr.
My across-the-street neighbor Jared and his son Logan joined me for a spectacular January hunt filled with a plethora of deer, elk, and eagle sightings. Their first chukar outing, they’re eager to go again next season.
The fact that my wife/BFF Leslie can share these experiences with me makes it impossible to imagine anything better. Life is good, but with her, doing this with our dogs, it is the best thing.
Sad to say it’s over. For now. What a season! Ended up with a gorgeous day yesterday, lots of birds, even hit some, and Peat made several flawless retrieves and was a joy to watch. Angus had stepped up his game the past several hunts, and finished strong yesterday, too, with a marvelous retrieve of a Hungarian partridge that landed in the creek way, way down there. Here’s a video of the last few hunts. Stay tuned for Leslie’s 2015-2016 highlight film.
