OntarioHunter
Well-known member
- Joined
- Sep 11, 2020
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It was tough out there this afternoon. We had a blizzard two days ago that dumped up to twenty inches on warm very wet ground. Winds have been awful and temps fell well below freezing. Today I gassed up the Jimmy and drove the dogs about thirty miles south of town to a ranch I knew had a few pheasants. Floated (literally) through drifts in the road all the way there. The sign in box was behind a waist deep packed drift. No way I'm getting in Roger's driveway. So I turned around and parked safely off the road at a gate on the hill a half mile away. The plan was to cut straight across the ridges to the ranch complex two miles in. Birds were hanging in the willows behind the grain bins. That didn't work! Back to the county road and down to the driveway. After wading through the first drift the driveway climbed to the top of the ridge which was mostly blown clear. I entertained thoughts of hunting the adjacent big coulee up to their house. Uh ... no! There were drifts twenty feet deep running into it at various places. The temperature was about 25 degrees and wind was blowing a steady 20-25 mph in my face.
I left the Fr Britt in the Jimmy and only worked my Lab. It was just too nasty for the little dog. But long legged Ellie was enjoying the romp. Tried to put the sneak on the willow windbreak but a hen busted out of range and a dozen birds took off into the network of coulees behind the ranch house. In this weather I knew they would hold tight once busted up so off we went to battle our way through the hard drifts to the rose patches in the gullies.
Ellie pointed up five birds and each held for her for several minutes. The first was a rooster that almost hit me in the head when it finally flushed from its snowy tunnel literally underneath Ellie. I got tangled in the waist deep snow and missed an easy shot. Next she held a bird for almost five minutes before a hen busted. "Good dog! Let's go." But she wouldn't. Back on point in the exact same spot. "Come on. Bird is gone." Down goes her head, the snow flies, and out she comes with another hen. I quickly got the bird from her and threw it in the air. It flew off fine. Another fifty yards up the coulee and she's birdy again. Locks up and I wade in via a fresh deer track. This time I wait a bit further back for not so close shot. And I wait ... and wait. Ellie is frozen and I can tell she hears the bird underneath the snow right in front of her. And I wait. Finally she moves around to my side, stops, disappears under the snow, and comes up with another hen. She brings it to me but wants to show off instead of to hand so I have to shout at her. The hen loses some feathers but seems okay and I flip her out of Ellie's reach. Away flies the hen around the corner and Ellie bounds after it. She should come back shortly. But she doesn't. I whistle for her several times but no dog. Damn! I struggle through the drifts around the corner and there is Ellie fully three hundred yards down the coulee struggling back through snow over her head ... with that damn hen in her mouth. Her ability to mark downed birds is unbelievable. Must have radar. I released the poor bird again and this time hung onto Ellie. It flew up the coulee so we went over the top into the next one.
Easy enough climbing the blown face but once on top I was looking at monster drifts on the other side. One large patch of roses in the bottom almost certainly held one of the grainery pheasants. Getting down there required fighting my way through semi packed snow sometimes deeper than my waist. Very slow and exhausting. Sun was setting and wind was picking up a bit. Sure enough, Ellie locked up in the rose bushes. And again she grabbed a hen. I released and that was the end of the day for us. I had several miles to go and drifts to fight. Fortunately the wind was now at my back. About half way I could see vehicle lights out on the county road. They stopped for a while, probably looking at deer in the coulee ... or maybe making sure I was okay. It was a welcome sight because I knew they had broken the drifts for my little Jimmy.
Back in town I was fairly chilled and went straight to the shower after feeding the dogs. Man, that felt good. Now back to the camper and fry up the other half of yesterday's rooster for dinner.
It was not the toughest day I've ever spent in the field but definitely in the top ten. And that's a lot of days over the last 58 years hunting. The most remarkable thing is I did it wearing a hernia truss. For whatever reason that damn bulgy gut didn't bother me at all today. Go figure.
So what's your worst day?
I left the Fr Britt in the Jimmy and only worked my Lab. It was just too nasty for the little dog. But long legged Ellie was enjoying the romp. Tried to put the sneak on the willow windbreak but a hen busted out of range and a dozen birds took off into the network of coulees behind the ranch house. In this weather I knew they would hold tight once busted up so off we went to battle our way through the hard drifts to the rose patches in the gullies.
Ellie pointed up five birds and each held for her for several minutes. The first was a rooster that almost hit me in the head when it finally flushed from its snowy tunnel literally underneath Ellie. I got tangled in the waist deep snow and missed an easy shot. Next she held a bird for almost five minutes before a hen busted. "Good dog! Let's go." But she wouldn't. Back on point in the exact same spot. "Come on. Bird is gone." Down goes her head, the snow flies, and out she comes with another hen. I quickly got the bird from her and threw it in the air. It flew off fine. Another fifty yards up the coulee and she's birdy again. Locks up and I wade in via a fresh deer track. This time I wait a bit further back for not so close shot. And I wait ... and wait. Ellie is frozen and I can tell she hears the bird underneath the snow right in front of her. And I wait. Finally she moves around to my side, stops, disappears under the snow, and comes up with another hen. She brings it to me but wants to show off instead of to hand so I have to shout at her. The hen loses some feathers but seems okay and I flip her out of Ellie's reach. Away flies the hen around the corner and Ellie bounds after it. She should come back shortly. But she doesn't. I whistle for her several times but no dog. Damn! I struggle through the drifts around the corner and there is Ellie fully three hundred yards down the coulee struggling back through snow over her head ... with that damn hen in her mouth. Her ability to mark downed birds is unbelievable. Must have radar. I released the poor bird again and this time hung onto Ellie. It flew up the coulee so we went over the top into the next one.
Easy enough climbing the blown face but once on top I was looking at monster drifts on the other side. One large patch of roses in the bottom almost certainly held one of the grainery pheasants. Getting down there required fighting my way through semi packed snow sometimes deeper than my waist. Very slow and exhausting. Sun was setting and wind was picking up a bit. Sure enough, Ellie locked up in the rose bushes. And again she grabbed a hen. I released and that was the end of the day for us. I had several miles to go and drifts to fight. Fortunately the wind was now at my back. About half way I could see vehicle lights out on the county road. They stopped for a while, probably looking at deer in the coulee ... or maybe making sure I was okay. It was a welcome sight because I knew they had broken the drifts for my little Jimmy.
Back in town I was fairly chilled and went straight to the shower after feeding the dogs. Man, that felt good. Now back to the camper and fry up the other half of yesterday's rooster for dinner.
It was not the toughest day I've ever spent in the field but definitely in the top ten. And that's a lot of days over the last 58 years hunting. The most remarkable thing is I did it wearing a hernia truss. For whatever reason that damn bulgy gut didn't bother me at all today. Go figure.
So what's your worst day?
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