Member Details - Tips From This Hunt

 

Trying New Spots

(By Karl DeHart)

 

How many times have you driven past a spot that looks promising but for whatever reason you don’t stop?  Heck, most of us could instantly think of 2 or 3 areas we would like to try but pass by just to get to a spot where we have been successful before.  These ignored areas are usually the ones that are questionable in some way; too small, you are unsure of the access, you’ve never seen anyone hunting it before or you just do not want to waste time hunting an unknown. 

At issue too is how many times each year do you get to chase upland birds?  When that number is limited it is hard to spend your precious days trying out a new spot just to see if it is any good.  And then throw in the kicker that even good spots have bad days and you potentially hit this new spot on a bad day, so you end up wishing you had just kept driving, but you do so with the nagging feeling that you may have hit the spot on a bad day and maybe it would be good to try it again…whew…the emotional struggle!  Here is a potential solution, mention the spot to a couple hunting buddies, one of you are bound to stop and report back what they found.

 

For a few years I’ve been driving by an area; sage, thick willow, grassy areas, river edge, railroad ditches like I hunted growing up in Iowa and I’ve never seen anyone pushing it (sometimes a good thing).  I’ve always wanted to hunt it but would keep driving because I knew the end of the road held lots of chukar.  Finally I made the stop with a buddy, Greg.  This stretch of land was relatively narrow and ran between the Snake River and the railroad tracks that followed the river. 

 

Well I’m glad Greg was there to encourage me to stop.  We agreed that even if the spot didn’t produce, what the heck, “it’s all hunting, right?”   The area was just wide enough in places that on the walk out we couldn’t push the entire of the birdie looking areas.  On the way out I think we only saw one hen pheasant.  What was encouraging was how consistently birdie Mesa and Z were while we walked.  We had walked the outer edge away from the river on the way out.  To our left was mostly open grazed property and to the right the Snake River.  We finally turned back and the return trip along the riverbank was like hunting a different area.    Since Greg had seen some pheasant tracks along the riverbank we really focused on the thicker brush along the shore and where we had not hunted thoroughly yet, this was a great strategy.  For such a little stretch of property we pushed up 4 or 5 roosters and 20-30 quail and all on the return trip!

 

The highlight for me was pushing a ditch with Z.  Stretches of the ditch were filled with dried tumbleweed.  Z disappeared under one of these light brown blankets and I literally followed her movement by the occasional heaving up of the top of the dead weeds.  I had just started to move off when I rather casually noticed the lack of the next expected disturbance of the weed pile.  As I turned back I saw a slight settling of the tumbleweed in a spot and then everything was still for a few seconds.  I glanced up and down the tracks half expecting Z to make one of her magic appearances 180 degrees from the area I thought she was and then another little shake of the tumbleweeds grabs my full attention.  I take 2 steps forward and the explosion of the rooster out of the dried weeds 20 feet in front of me stops me in my tracks.  It was one of those rises where you almost feel like you could have counted every tail feather.  The one where you have time to notice the brilliance of the red, gold and green feathers shining in the sun and the upward curve of the tail feathers as the bird takes off.  The flushes we all dream about.  I let the bird get out to 40 feet before I tumbled it to the rocks.

 

Next, we moved off to hunt the hills above the river for some chukar and huns.  Greg had not hunted this area before and I was in the mood to try a new spot again since the river edge turned out so well.  We were not 100 yards up a ravine when the dogs started getting birdie.  Greg calls out that Mesa is on point closer to me but just out of my sight.  I move in and she’s holding a nice point with her head real low.  I move towards her and nothing flushes, hmmm, but when I get a few feet from her she lunges and grabs the dead bird a few feet from her nose.  Someone had already been here this morning.  Then not 30 yards further I flush a single chukar another sign that the birds had been pushed already.  We chose to keep moving and still got in plenty of shooting.

 

By the end of roaming the steep hills on the Idaho side of the Snake River our legs were turning to jelly just as the weather was turning bad.  A small storm moved in quickly, spitting snow horizontally at us in the often-gusty wind.  We split up to work our way back to the truck and not 50 yards later 3-shotgun blast echo around the ridge, I turn back to help find the birds.  Greg drops a nice double of chukar and Mesa finds and retrieves both birds. 

 

I moved southward in the direction Greg said a few of the birds disappeared.  We are still headed out, but once again, the route down was slightly modified for that one last chance at a bird.  I moved no more than 100 yards when Z does a 90-degree turn, drops her head, straightens and stiffens her body, creeps with slow deliberate steps for 5 yards and then stops dead, I just love watching her do that!  I hadn’t quite reached her when 4 chukar popup.  The shot is long but I take it and I see the outer part of the right wing drop.  The bird’s wings are locked up so it sails to the next ridge before hitting the ground.  My heart sank a little, it flew to far and I knew that its feet were already running as it crashed on the next ridge.  I assumed this bird was lost at that moment but still had to make an effort to find it.  So much for heading out quickly!  I notice something else though; Z was just standing as if on point watching the bird hit the ground 300 yards away over a deep valley.  The second the bird hit the ground she was running.  By the time I got to the ridge Z was working the scent of the bird as it ran through the sagebrush.  She quickly caught the bird and retrieved it to hand.  I thought that bird would never be found. 

 

A nice mixed bag of birds, two new spots explored with great success, great points, sweet retrieves, and two guys with big smiles on their faces.  At some gathering this summer in a conversation with Greg I’m sure, somehow, in someway, this hunt will be mentioned again.  It was a fun day Greg, thanks for the hunt.

 

All images, maps, and written material are copyright of Upland Idaho LLC, unless otherwise noted. Use and or reproduction of anything found on this page or on http://uplandidaho.com is limited to express written permission.