Tag Archives: Pheasant Hunting

Family, Hunting

The 225 Mile U Turn

I can recall almost every hunt that Echo and I have experienced over the last 5 years. There are some hunts however that stand out because something remarkable occurs. Most often it is Echo doing something so tremendous that the moment is emblazoned in my mind forever. 

On this cold December day, Echo and I took the long drive to our favorite farm in Wray, Colorado. The plan was to meet up with a good friend and his dog by mid-morning. I know the area well, and I wanted to hunt a piece of land that we had not hit too many times over the last few years. The cows had not been let into both the north and southwest corners, so the cover circling the corn field was dense enough to hold birds. The wind was blowing over 10 mph from the northeast, so we started our walk from the opposite corner. Echo and I took a circuitous route to the end of the southwest corner so we hopefully would catch a pheasant napping. Once we got 20 yards out from the combination of grass and tumbleweeds, Echo started to get birdy. While I knew that we were in business, I was feeling a bit groggy from the long drive. When the rooster busted 15 yards to my right, I struggled to square up to the speedy bird. Two shots later, Echo paused her run as she realized that I had missed. My apology was heard, and we continued our work along the edge of the corn field. Echo will point when a bird freezes, and just moments after my failure, she stopped in her tracks. When she suddenly popped up, it caused the rooster to take flight. One shot of HEVI-METAL #4 knocked the bird out of the air.

With a bird in the vest, we continued our walk north into the next corner. There is tumbleweed filled ditches that surround this part of the field. Many times, the birds will evade our pursuit by carefully navigating these channels. About halfway through the middle of the northwest corner, Echo started to move with a purpose. While no birds took flight, I believed that she was pursuing more than one of the targeted species. As we approached the four rung barbed wire fence that abutted a ditch, Echo elevated into beast mode. Fueled by the scent of our quarry, my dog exploded through the bottom rung, but she caught a buckle of her chest protector on a single barb. That contact caused the entire vest to tear off her body. Once I put the fragments of the material in my pack, we started to work both sides of the ditch heading east. Echo remained hot but were not able to get the runners to fly.

My friend Oneal finally arrived, and he and Marley took the north side of the tree line that paralleled the two ditches we had just been hunting. As we walked west, Echo became excited as the northeast wind told her that birds were still present. Once Echo stopped and turned to our right, a rooster got up from the ditch and flew across the road. My first shot was behind the bird, but my next round knocked the bird to the ground. Unfortunately, the long shot was not lethal, and the speedy cock ran through the ditch and under the first fence. Echo was in full stride as she circumvented the lowest wire. She tore across the northwest corner just a few yards behind the bird. As the pheasant cut left it went under a second and then a third barbed wire fence. Echo tackled the bird, and headed back to me with the rooster in her mouth. After grabbing the bird, I noticed that my hand was covered in blood. It only took a few seconds to realize that Echo’s ear was split in half, and blood was gushing everywhere. It took me 30 minutes to slow the bleeding, and make the decision to head home. Almost 4 hours later, we arrived at the veterinarian, and Echo was stitched up.

This was the first major injury Echo suffered in all of our days spent in the field. Unfortunately, it would not be the last. On our first hunting trip after her ear had healed, Echo tore her knee open at some point during the day. The wounds Echo suffered shook me up. I thought I was prepared for handling my dog’s in-field ordeals. I wasn’t, and I am not sure how I am going improve my veterinarian skills.

Hunting

Wild Birds

Season four with Echo had many memorable highlights. While birds in Eastern Colorado were not as abundant as in past years, she and I managed to get it done more often than not. There was one specific day in December that proved to be the most incredible I have ever witnessed in my years in the field.

Greg and I rolled into Yuma just after 8 am. The night before I received permission to hunt a fantastic half section of native grass just south of town. I hunted this property throughout the early part of the season, and I had taken a few roosters while seeing many more. The dogs hit the field with excitement as we made our way to the initial edge of the thigh-high cover. Not dissimilar to previous walks, there were birds present, but they all flushed wild. Seventy-five minutes later, and with no shots taken, Greg and I regrouped at the truck to debate what we would do next.

I have additional private access just west of town, and there are some good WIAs within minutes of our location. Taking a calculated risk, we made the decision to travel an hour east in order to hunt an exquisite farm just north of Wray. As we entered town, we noticed a blanket of fresh snow covering the ground. The newly discovered conditions brought great anticipation for the day ahead. As we drove to my favorite spot in Colorado, we pulled over to evaluate a corner where we have access. I noticed a hen sitting on a plum thicket branch about two feet above the snowy ground. She got fidgety and took off. An unseen rooster followed her, and then forty birds exploded from their hidden positions. Greg and I looked at one another and smiled.

We quietly approached the half section of CRP with a realistic expectation to find a lot of birds. Two cornfields border the 320 acres of tall grass, making this property an ideal environment for housing wild pheasants. As we walked north towards a perfectly designed shelterbelt, birds suddenly started to appear in every direction. Echo and I were still seventy-five yards from the trees when the action began. Literally two hundred pheasants took flight in groups of twenty. Picking up the pace Echo and I finally made it to the east side of the pines. As birds continued to fly in waves from their hiding spots, they veered away from me once they noticed my conspicuous location. I took a futile shot at a rooster that briefly appeared before vanishing from my vantage point. Echo remained focused as her senses were sharp given the number of birds that had been present. She and I made our way around to the backside of the windbreak, and a hen busted followed by a rooster. I mounted my shotgun and followed the bird to my right. One shot crumpled him, and Echo made a quick retrieve.

Echo and I limited out in less than an hour. We saw more wild pheasants on this one day then during ten trips combined last season. It was good to see these magnificent animals flourishing in ideal habitat.

A Colorado Pheasant Hunt – December 15, 2019

Hunting

Echo – My Bird Dog – Season Three

I read that the lights go on for most bird dogs at age three. Obedience training is solidified, and the unbreakable connection between the owner and the dog is established.  Additionally, the dog demonstrates discipline and focus, despite the many distractions going on around them. 

Echo and I entered the 2018/2019 upland bird season having spent nearly twenty-five days in the field in the during the preceding two seasons.  I have shot close to seventy-five wild roosters over my lab during this time frame. Echo’s prey drive is high, and her enthusiasm when we hunt together is contagious.  Over the summer, leading into the season, we did a lot of bumper work to ensure she remained fit and competent. If the day was too hot to run, we moved our effort to a local lake.  While Echo is e-collar conditioned, I reinforced my commands verbally. My hope was that she would continue to evolve without the need for periodic stimulation. Unfortunately, the local game preserve was sold, and our time on birds was reduced to just two afternoons. This surprising situation undermined our off-season training program. Preserve birds allow for the dog to improve their steadiness despite the excitement of live prey. I was not able to do the barbed wire fence work that was one of my off-season objectives.  Occasionally, Echo will barrel through an unseen barrier, putting her in a dangerous predicament. 

Our first day in the fields of Eastern, Colorado had us in pursuit of pheasants in the corners of newly cut corn circles. The grass was relatively thick despite a recent snowfall. As Greg and I walked west, Echo and her brother Whitley worked both sides of a barbed wire fence.  We were just over a mile into our hunt, and the dogs had already flushed a handful of hens. The wind blew hard from the north, and Echo and Whitley started to get birdy. Greg was to my right, and a bit ahead of me when he pointed at the steady dogs. Seconds later the rooster started to fly when he exited the dense cover about twenty yards from my position. My first shot was quick, and behind the bird. I was more composed on my second shot, and my round hit the bird solidly on its left flank. Echo retrieved the dead pheasant, and like that, our season was underway.

Echo and I would navigate around an early season injury to her foot, and enjoy ten days of hunting the uplands. A December shooting slump had me confused and frustrated, but my girl did not quit on me. She approached every field with determination and a commitment to the chase. I love my dog, and I look forward to our future adventures together.

Videos of our Season

Family, Hunting

Rookie

Hunting is difficult. For people who were not born into a hunting family, or had a mentor early in life, there are many challenges associated with taking up the sport. Despite the fact that I started hunting in my 40s, I have been able to learn quickly because of patient and thoughtful friends. It is now time to pay it forward.

DJ and I met freshmen year of high school, and became great friends. We don’t get to spend much time together as he lives in Florida with his family.  Our lives have fundamentally changed over the last 35 years, but our bond has never lapsed.  Over the last couple of years, DJ has expressed a real interest in hunting.  To that point, I invited him to spend a few days with Echo and me pursuing birds on the eastern plains of Colorado.

Even the most veteran of upland hunters will tell you that it is hard to kill a pheasant.  Wild roosters are wily, and they know how to avoid predators.  No matter how stealthy you are, pheasants seem to detect your presence just seconds before you are able to raise your weapon.  Not dissimilar to golf, if you’re slightly off the mark that day, poor shooting will undermine your success.  If you factor in DJ’s novice shotgun skills, and the warm, windy conditions, the odds of him harvesting a cock during our trip was low.

The first field of the day proved to be exactly what we needed to start our hunt.  The initial walk in area (WIA) had 10 birds hunkered down in the tumble weeds next to a corn field.  Echo easily found them, but we did not get a shot at a rooster.  Despite our failure to take a bird, DJ got to feel the excitement associated with flushing pheasants.  Our adrenaline was pumping and I hoped we would have another encounter before the end of the day. As we approached the next WIA, we watched from a distance, three roosters eating gravel off the road.  We hid the truck behind haybales that were adjacent to the field, and told Echo to hunt it up.  She took advantage of a strong northwest wind as we approached the grass-covered irrigation equipment.  It did not take long before Echo picked up the scent of the birds.  I told DJ to position himself on the northern side of the cover.  The first rooster busted from his position, and I shot him at 20 yards.  More roosters followed, but DJ did not feel comfortable with his shooting options.  With a bird in my pack we kept moving west, allowing Echo to venture in and out of the dense CRP.  As we neared the end of the quarter section, Echo became birdy.  Just as I told DJ to be ready, a rooster busted from his position on the northern side of the irrigation apparatus.  The 20-mph wind hit the bird’s plumage, and he started to sail south.  I heard DJ take a shot, and saw the load impact the rooster’s right side, sending the bird into a downward tumble.  I hollered to the heavens as I knew DJ had just taken his first ever wild pheasant! Echo retrieved the downed rooster, and delivered it to DJ.  I congratulated my friend as we both realized that our objective had been accomplished.

I was not a bird hunter when DJ and I met years ago. I was thrilled to share my passion for the uplands with my friend.  I can confidently say that he will be back.

Video – Our Pheasant Hunt in Eastern, Colorado

Family, Hunting

Something to Remind You

On February second my wonderful gun dog Pride, passed on.  He was thirteen and one half years old, and his health was deteriorating.  We were fortunate to adopt Pride at seven years old, after his original owner lost a long battle with cancer.  His personality was unique for a seasoned gun dog.  In the field, Pride demonstrated all of the characteristics of an accomplished bird hunter.  He could locate evasive roosters, and retrieve downed birds out of the thickest cover.  At home, Pride was quiet and reserved. He loved to be loved, and that was obvious by the way he responded to our family.

The most special moment in my hunting life occurred during my first ever pheasant opener in 2011. In our initial field, Pride located a half dozen roosters, and I missed every shot. I had pheasant fever, and my confidence was shaken.  In the early afternoon, hunting became difficult when temperatures hit the lower sixties, and the wind blew at twenty miles per hour.  We were walking a public CRP field just northeast of Holyoke, Colorado.  About two thirds of the way into the quarter section of native grass, Pride stopped on a hard point.  He was not a pointing lab, but his posture was unmistakable.  Realizing that a pheasant was present, I started to make my way over to my focused dog.  The bird must have started to run right as Pride suddenly moved left. When Pride shuffled, the rooster took flight.  I shouldered my A400 and fired. The bird tumbled from the sky, and fell over a nearby hill.  Pride was already in a full sprint when the rooster landed in the waist-high grass.  Almost immediately, I began to second guess my shot.  Was that a rooster or hen?  Did I make a lethal shot?  My anxiousness disappeared when I saw Pride running towards me with the colorful bird in his mouth.  I just shot my first wild pheasant.

Thank you Pride.  Thank you for teaching me how to be a bird hunter.  Thank you for your patience, love and kindness.  Thank you for being my partner in many amazing adventures.  Rest in peace my man.

Something to Remind You