Some Snow, But No Pheasants

This is an old railroad grade with lots of brush.

The birds often hunker down near the edges of these low bushes. Often their only way out is straight towards the hunter.

The dogs may have found more birds than I know about, because I lost track of them in the brush several times.

I went to a place where I've hunted a lot in past seasons, but not much this year. The landowner's neighbor mistakenly posted this area. However, I didn't figure that out until the season was almost over. When I finally did hunt the area, there were no birds. Today I tried it again. I heard one fly, and that was it.

The pictures show the weather change that occurred overnight.

On Foot With a Camera

This is some of the cover. The birds tend to stay near these creek banks.



Nice classy point...front foot raised and everything.


This gives you an idea of how good the cover is.


Still chasing those hens. Point, then move up. We did this four or five times.

They don't look too solid. They really don't know where the bird is. They're just being careful.

Where is that bird?

I went to Warner Siding carrying just a camera. In some ways it is more enjoyable than when I have a gun. Without the gun there is no pressure to get the shot off. I can just watch the situation unfold. I didn't run into any other hunters. Nor did I have to pay attention to "NO HUNTING" signs. These are good pictures, but most of them were taken while we were chasing the same two hens.

A Nice Day, Not Particularly Well-Used

Junior is enjoying his view of the Idaho hills.

The weather was great. I went back to the muddy road I gave up on two days ago. We hadn't had any rain since then, so I was hoping the road had dried out some. Mud was still a bit of a problem, but the main problem was monotony. The one big variation was an up and down grade. It made one 90 degree turn. The rest of the time it went straight up and down hills for as far as I could see. We came across one covey of Hungarian partridges that the dogs missed because the wind was wrong.

Tomorrow is suppose to be our last nice day for awhile. That's something to look forward to.

Heise RR Grade

Spud is a 10 year old quarter horse. He is a good trail horse, and I also use him as my pack horse. I think I will start riding him and packing Junior, because Spud walks so much faster.

They went on point, but by the time I was ready to take a picture they had decided that the bird had moved on, but I made them stay. You can see their hearts are really not into it.


Lilly is honoring Juneau's point. Juneau is just barely visible straight ahead of her.

This is the whole gang, athough the dogs are hard to see below Spud's nose.

Trying out my camera's delayed shooting mode. I have the reading glasses on because that's the only way I could see to push the right buttons.

This is my AM activity nowdays; hanging nets for next summer.

I trailered the horse a couple of miles to an abandon RR grade that would be easy to ride, and might have some pheasants. It was a pleasant day with sunshine and a slight breeze from the east.

This was Spud's first time out in about 3 months. I have not put shoes on either horse yet, so the gravel roadbed was a concern for me. Spud handled it well, but that's something I need to get done soon. Shoes are not good in snow. However, it looks like the chance for much snow this winter may be over.

I would like to find birds so I can try to get some pictures of the dogs doing their thing. It's going to take some practice for both myself and the dogs to get used to the horse and the camera.

We saw five birds, three of them were roosters, so we had some action. The problem was that the dogs were ranging out often twice as far as they would be if I had been walking with a gun. It's hard to think about dogs and the horse at the same time, so they often got out there because I wasn't paying attention to them. When they get out that far they tend to forget they are hunting and start chasing birds. A couple of times they went on point and I fumbled with the camera too long. By the time I was ready they had figured out that the bird had moved on.

Right near the end they got on a good trail. They ran hard for about 1/2 mile, and I had to stop them several times so I could catch up. I could have pushed the horse into a fast trot, but I'm afraid it would have degenerated into a fox hunt reminiscent of old England. They finally slowed down at a little cut bank, then two roosters flushed without a point. The dogs were near being out of control, and were not wary enough.

Earlier they stopped on a couple of nice solid points with Juneau in the lead. On one of them, as I moved in with the camera, Juneau decided she had waited long enough. She pounded down with her front legs, knees locked, like a lot of animals do when they are being aggressive. Lilly does the same thing.

This is not good pointer behavior, but I hunt a lot by myself, so there are times that I am glad they do it. There are times when I can't get to them, or if I did do the flushing, I wouldn't be in a position to shoot. Today was not one of those times.

I have two saddles, so if anyone wants to join me, give me a call. There is not much riding experience needed. The second horse will just follow me.

First Day Without a Gun

This series of photos is taken from up on Skyline Drive, which is about 4 miles from our house. You can see the pickup and trailer off Junior's hip. This view is looking northwest.

Looking north to Tekoa, the next town about 11 miles north from Farmington.

This is a road that marks the state boundry, running north and south. Washington is on the left and Idaho is on the right.

The world from between the ears of a horse. You can just barely see Juneau between Junior's ears.

Looking west toward Steptoe Butte

You can see the mud for yourself.




It was a beautiful spring -like day. It's time to get back to the horses. I took Junior and the dogs to a field access road. We unloaded, and within 5 minutes the dogs had found a couple of roosters. Where were they yesterday?

The dirt road was just too muddy. After a half mile, we turned around and headed back. I then went to Skyline Rd. There the footing was fine. We went up the road about a mile, then as the sun was starting to settle on the shoulder of "Steptoe Butte," I headed back to the pickup.

Last Day of Shooting

These grain elevaters often have spilled wheat around them that attract birds. We found a hen near this one today.

This is some beaver damage. The farmers hate them. They dam up the creeks and flood their fields.

This isn't far from where I got my shot.

This is the dogs hunting along a ditch in "The Triangle".

I spent the morning hunting an area that is off the beaten path. I have not been to this spot all year. It was a beautiful spring-like day. The cover was 99% CRP. We got one weak point and didn't see a single bird for two hours of hunting.

After lunch I returned to the old standby, "The Triangle". At last count I think I've personally gotten 10 birds out of here, and been with guys who got 6 others.

After a good point that produced nothing, the dogs started charging around, and Lilly flushed a hen without pointing. "Bad dog!"

About 20 minutes later the dogs were heading out away from good cover into a vast field of stubble. There could have been something there, but I called them back explaining, "We should stick with the best available cover." They seemed to understand, ran back to the fence row, and dived into the tall grass along the drain ditch. My call was a good one.

A few seconds later Juneau stepped off the 2 foot bank down to the edge of the water, and froze in a solid point that said," Oh no! There's a bird right here at my feet!" Lilly, 10 feet away, saw her situation and also went on point. I was just on the edge of my range. I took one step in their direction and a rooster flushed. I took two shots swinging left to right, and missed with both. I felt pretty bad, realizing that this could possibly be my last chance for eight months.

About an hour later the dogs went on a close double point. Starting tomorrow I'll be getting pictures of action like this. It was a hen.

After finishing there, I was determined to utilize every moment of this fabulous day, so I rushed to another nearby good producing area. An hour later, right on the brink of being illegal due to late hunting hours, I waved at a county sheriff as he drove by, then loaded up the dogs and headed home.

Some More Good Tries

Cloudy, but pretty sunset.

This is from the top of a hill obviously. I've pointed out Juneau.

You can see how the easy walking would be down the middle. The tops of the hills seen to be pretty good most of the time, but today it was the low spots.

I finally got to the "Tekoa RR Grade". I had grabbed the dogs and headed out for a quick hunt an hour and a half before dark. It had been raining off and on all day, but seemed to have let up some.

The easy way to do this is to just walk the grade and let the dogs do the running around. That had been my plan, but I know that you get better chances when you hit the brush. I walked the grade for about 30 feet and couldn't take it. Up and down, over and under; stay near the dogs, and let them lead. That's the way to find birds and get the shots.

It was going to be a trip down the grade, then back to the pickup. After about 15 minutes we got our first excitement. Juneau, who is in the lead 90% of the time, dived over the shoulder of a small brush-covered hill. Lilly started to follow, then slowed to a point. It was the kind of point that says,"I don't smell anything, but Juneau stopped so I will too." In five quick steps I was at the top of the small hill standing next to Lilly looking down at Juneau below us and 30 feet ahead in tall grass on solid point. To get down to her level I slide down a wet bank, hoping the commotion wouldn't scare the bird. It didn't. I took a couple cautious steps toward Juneau when a hen flushed 40 feet ahead of her. At least I could say she held point and didn't press the bird into flight by getting too close. I had to yell at them a little to get them to not chase. They are still not real staunch on wing. It was a good training moment.

I had seen quite a few hunter tracks so I left the RR grade 10 minutes or so later, crossed the state highway, and entered a field of heavy CRP that I have been wondering about. The hen had gone that way, and with all the hunting pressure the grade gets, maybe other birds had used this field as an escape route.

It looks like a good spot for the future, with deep cover, and a pond for those dry days in early fall, but today we only found one hen that Juneau passed over, and Lilly flushed without a point.

Back to the RR grade hunting downwind to the pickup we went. We were losing sunlight fast.

About half way back, in a situation similar to the one in which we found the first hen, we came across another one. Both dogs were on solid point about 8 feet apart, however, they were facing in almost opposite directions. It looked strange. Someone had to be wrong. As it turned out, they both were. The hen flushed only a few feet away from them, but not in the direction that either one of them was facing.

It was probably after shooting hours when we got to the pickup. It had been good exercise and training.

May Be the Last Day With a Gun

For me, after the season is over, hunting will continue, to some degree, only I'll carry just a camera. Today I headed for an old spot, then got lured into trying two new ones.

The first one was an hour long hike in a big circle. The whole thing was CRP, except for one small grove of trees that is all that is left of an old farm. As it turned out, that was where the dogs found the only bird trail. They followed the scent across the county road and into Idaho. I took the risk. Ten minutes later I saw a pheasant fly out, a 100 yards ahead of the dogs. That was all the excitement for our effort.

I then headed for my original destination, but when I got there, I was parked within a few hundred yards of a draw that takes off at a right angle from the RR grade that I had intended to hunt. It was a place that I have been wanting to look at for a couple of years now.

It turned out to be about a mile long draw. The bottom of the draw was fair CRP, with three side draws that also looked promising. The dogs tracked a bird up the first branch draw, but it flushed 100 yards ahead of them. We covered the whole area, and that was all we found. So we headed back.

Within 200 hundred yards of the pickup, the dogs picked up a trail that led into the base of a squatty willow tree. They nosed around for half a minute, then Juneau went on point. I was only 25 feet away, but I knew the bird would probably fly out straight away from me, leaving the tree between us. My one chance was a quick shot before he got too many limbs between us. I could hear him coming when he made his move, but the brush was too thick. My shot was for naught.

My legs had had enough. We went home with an hour and a half of day light left.

Lots of Mud, Few Birds

Looking ahead.... there is a boot there somewhere.

Looking back...

All that's needed for a good crop of mud.


What are we doing here?

As you can see, there is good cover on both sides of the tracks here.

This was the view from the pickup before we started.

Today I hunted the "Belmont Siding". Through this season it has been a pretty good area. About a third of the time is spent walking an active railroad track. The rest of the trip is along drain ditches, some of which have berms of dirt running parallel to them. It's dirt that has been dug out of the ditch to keep it flowing. These berms are usually about 8 ft. high, and set back about 30 feet from the water, leaving a nice swath of cover from one side of the ditch over to far side of the berm.

We started out with a strong double point that turned out to be a hen. Again, about half-way through the hunt, both dogs got real excited, working hard between a ditch and a berm. Juneau went on point. Lilly backed her up, but before I could get close enough to have a decent shot, a rooster flew out to my right. My first shot was my best chance, but had no effect. The second shot was through the weeds that stick up along the crest of the berm.

We kept going on up the ditch, keeping an eye out for a place to cross the flooded ditch. The berm ended and the unplowed area between fields kept getting narrower. I finally crossed at a road bridge, and was looking at a long muddy hike back to the RR tracks. In the mean-time, it started to rain. We did one more 1/2 mile out and back before heading to the pickup.

Perhaps the most significant event of the day was Juneau's point on a hen. She was over a hundred yards out in some chisel plowed stubble. I hadn't been paying much attention to her, when I realised that she was motionless, but in a strange stance. On the chance that it might be a bird, I slopped across the ditch and headed for her. When I got close, I could see that she was in a very low crouch on solid point. She had been waiting several minutes already, but still hung no while I moved into position. Eventually a hen flushed, but her poise,and patience had raised her to a new height in my mind.

On one occasion I did see a pheasant fly way out ahead of us, but despite our best effort to track it down, we never saw it again.

Mudding my way along today was the toughest walking I've faced all season. Snow can make walking difficult, but it also slows the dogs, and the pheasants. Mud seems to have little effect on anyone but the hunter. It's not easy keeping up with the dogs under these conditions.

Monday of The Last Week 09-10

This is the inside of the little grove of tree we passed through.

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That is the very clump of brush we got our rooster out of, but that's Lilly taking a second look.

This is another look at the spot.



Entering the cut.



Covering some CRP.

One of the little draws we hunted early on.

No more time for scouting. Go where you have seen birds recently. That was my strategy. I headed back to Ladow Butte Rd. The last time I was there I had seen maybe 10 birds, and shot at one that was really out of range. The rest were all way out there.

It was blowing 5 to 10 mph out of the east, with the temperature in the low forties. Rather warm for this time of year. This year, so far, we have gotten about 1/5 the amount of snow we got last winter. This should mean a good survival rate for game birds.

For the first 30 minutes we covered three CRP draws that were surrounded by winter wheat. Right now the wheat is green, and about 2 inches tall. It is growing in nice rows about 12 inches apart. The soil is dark brown mud that sticks to everything like fine mortar. Not good walking.

Next we went through a 1/2 acre stand of locust and birch trees. When we came out of it, the dogs got excited for the first time today. The next 20 minutes were pretty exciting. The dogs went on point 5 times, but with nothing to show for it. Between the third and fourth stops, I saw two pheasants flush a couple hundred yards ahead of us. They flew across the county road and up a stretch of abandoned railroad grade. I had intended for this to be as far as we were going to go before we started back.

I had been by this spot several times, but never walked it. I could see it was good cover, but how far it went, and where, I didn't know.

Our last point before we crossed the road really got my heart going. I had seen the two birds fly earlier, but it seemed like something was still running ahead of us, because of the way the dogs were tracking. Finally, right at the edge of the cover, just before we were going to be crossing the road, both dogs crept along for ten yards, then froze on solid point. I said out loud," This is it. We've got him now!" I was wrong. Like the other four times, I moved in to find nothing. The dogs broke off their point, and started frantically charging around, trying to figure where the prey had gone. These few moments after a false point always frightens me a little. I try to slow them down, but they don't listen much in their confused state of mind. What makes it interesting is that occasionally they will run up on the bird without a hint of a point, and flush it. So I try to be ready. As it turned out today, once again there was nothing.

After crossing the road, and about 200 yards along the grade, we entered a cut. The right side was over a hundred feet high with good cover. The dogs started up along the crest of this cut. I had a bad feeling about this. If they found any birds up there, I was going to be way out of position, but up on top of the cut wouldn't be much better. I was too tired to make the climb anyway.

Standing 90 feet below them and 40 yards away, I sadly watched both dogs slow to a point. I started walking toward them, knowing I would never make it in time. Five seconds later a rooster exploded up. I shot just before it disappeared over the bank. When I shot, it shuddered, hung there for an instant, then flew on. Juneau's eyes followed the bird that I now couldn't see. The she dashed off in pursuit. For a moment I felt like there was a chance that it would suffer a belated death. Seconds later she reappeared at the top of the bank again. That bird was gone.

Then I realized that Lilly hadn't left, and was still nosing around near where that bird had been. Both dogs were back in view, but I was in no better position. Suddenly another rooster flushed up. I was blocked by a clump of brush and didn't bother to shoot. After two hours of hard hunting we had gotten our chance, though meager, and had come up empty handed.

We worked our way on through the cut, out onto the brink of a hill that looked down on a farmhouse with its usual barn and equipment shed. This was as far as we could go. It was going to be a long return trip with very little untried cover and going down wind. As we re-entered the cut, now going in the opposite direction, the dogs returned to the lower end of the high bank. I watched Juneau sniffing around on the uphill side of a clump of brush about 30 feet away from me. She took a few steps down hill toward me, hesitated, then stopped on a serious point. The bank was steep and slick. She was only about 20 feet up, so, hoping she would let me do the flushing, I headed up.If a rooster flew out and away from me it would be behind the brush. If it came out toward me, I would probably get a shot, but not much of one, teetering on the bank like I would be.

I carefully edged up 3 or 4 steps then stopped. I felt like my feet might go flying out from under me, and I would go sliding down the bank. I had stalled at an impasse. Juneau was still remaining solid. We were both immovable but for far different reasons. I remained in my quandary for a few seconds, then gave Juneau the release command. I had decided that she was going to have to put this bird to flight, if there was one. However, true to her instincts, she stayed as solid as a rock. A few more seconds passed as we both stared into the tangle of roots and limbs. Then out he came on his own. He flashed above and behind my right shoulder, I pirouetted and shot in one motion. He didn't fall but I was falling! With both of my feet still set and falling out away from the bank, I fired my second and final round. We fell at the same time, but I got my feet under me, he didn't. I saw him bounce, then I looked down to see if I had a good place to ski down the bank to level ground. When I stopped skidding, I looked up to see the rooster running back toward the cover of the cut, with both dogs just inches behind. It was just a matter of seconds and Lilly was on her way back to me with it in her mouth.

After pocketing the bird I started to notice my location. I was very near where the other two roosters had flushed just 10 minutes earlier. They had been lined up along the bank ten yards apart. The first one had been nearest the field at the highest part of the cut. The other two had been farther along, and farther down from the top. The last one had sat tight. We had gone right by him, but my little dog found him on the way back through. I had really stopped hunting, heading back for the pickup, a bit sad at our lack of success. Juneau had kept right on doing what she does best...hunt!

My legs were tired, and it was hard to get too excited about covering essentially the same area over again on the way back, but we did stay pretty focused. Juneau had taught me the value of not giving up too soon.

We didn't find anything. I did got excited on a couple of good points. This is getting to be like soccer. If you only get excited when a goal is scored, at most matches, you would fall asleep. You have to learn to appreciate the good tries.

Only an Hour of Daylight Left

Another ,"see if you can find the dog",picture. Hint:10:00 left

This photo was taken on December 25, but it will give you some idea of what happened. Today it was overcast. I parked right where the trees come up to the road. The ditch is out of the picture to the right. We eventually hunted clear to the trees that are just a thin dark line in the distance. We then walked down the county road back to the pickup. The picture makes it look like quite a walk, but the whole hunt was less than 2 miles.

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I spent most of the day hanging nets, but I felt like I had to get out at least an hour before dark. A five minute drive got me back to the same area where I had taken my son-in-law Tim on Christmas day.

Because of the wind direction, I approached it from west to east, which was the opposite of the last time I was there. We plunged into the patch of short, planted fir trees that you can see in the picture. Almost immediately the dogs were on good scent. Twenty seconds later I saw two birds flush out of the bottom of the planting of trees near the drain ditch 100 yards away. They flew downwind to our right. We hunted down through the trees to the ditch, rather than go with our game plan. We followed the birds.

The dogs were running in stubble next to the deep grass of the creek bottom, then jumped into good cover to hunt. Juneau would run out to the limit of her allowed range, then hunt back upwind. Lilly was doing the same thing but in smaller bites.

After a few minutes of this, Lilly snapped around on to a solid point. Juneau, who had run past the bird, spotted Lilly, then ran back to join her. It was a heart-warming sight. My two dogs locked up broadside to me, waiting. I thought about what a great picture this would make, when I realized that I had forgotten the camera.

I walked up, took one step into the tall grass, and out exploded a rooster. I calmly dropped him with one shot. Both dogs jumped the creek, then Lilly made the retrieve back across the water. When she gets to water she is very calculated and thoughtful. I've never seen her swim with a bird in her mouth. She always finds a place where she can wade, or cross on a bridge.

It's not often that everything comes together so nicely. For the three days before this, I had hunted hard and gotten no shots, but remained very philosophical about it. Now that I was carrying a rooster in my vest, I realize that for a hunter, there is nothing as fulfilling as a well executed point, shot, and retrieve. Walking around enjoying the exercise and view is fine, but is not quite enough.

A short time later we came to a fenceline. I then turned back into the wind finished the hunt as planned.

Good Old Spots, Few Birds

Here is a good look at the cover. This is like the book "Where's Waldo". The dogs are side by side on point at the right center edge of the picture. I took the picture, then went over to the dogs. I couldn't get anything to fly, so I released them. They immediately dived over the bank, then ran back and forth along the edge of the ice. Within 3 minutes they were back on point at the bend of the creek that you can see near the very center of the picture. It was a hen of course.

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I thought the forecast was for rain, so I went to work on nets, but the cold clear weather held on. By noon I had abandon the nets. I went to some excellent cover that is also very accessible. This was so that an older friend could go along. He had one dog, while I had two, so we split up to keep the activity less confusing.

The cover was a nice combination of creek and abandon railroad grade, running down through wheat fields. I saw 4 birds at a distance, and 3 hens which the dogs pointed. One of then exited without tail feathers. Juneau did a great job of holding point, then at the last instant, as I moved in for the flush, she dove into the clump of grass. Out the other side came the tailless hen.

We tried a couple other short 30 minute hunts on the way home to use up every moment of daylight. The nagging thought at the back of my mind, is that the end of the season is only days away, make the best of what is left of it.

Beautiful But Unproductive

Here are the dogs hunting along the edge of some CRP.

This is a nice view of the valley. It is a down and back trip, but there is so much cover that you really don't backtrack.

Back to "Fowlers' Canyon". This is where I took the two boys several posts ago. The weather was clear and cold. Just a few degrees below freezing, with a light breeze. I visited with Don for about an hour. He just lost his wife, Eva, this last month.

As soon as we stepped out of his yard into the stubble, three waves of pheasants flew off down the canyon. Perhaps a total of 10 to 12 birds. Some banked right up a side draw, while about an equal number flew on down the canyon.

All day long the dogs did great. As the day progressed we saw 8 or 10 pheasants, all flushing well out of range. We pushed one rooster to the top of a small hill of CRP. Juneau went on point, but there was one lone scrubby apple tree right in the way. As I started to adjust my position it flushed and was gone.

A couple of things that happened today, one was curious,and one was humorous. Early on Juneau slammed on point at the top of a 20 foot high bank. I was below her and 20 yards away. I took about 5 steps in her direction when she abruptly broke it off and scampered down the bank. I took the hint, turned ,and proceeded on my way. When she was clear out of the picture, and I had taken about 5 steps, out flushed a rooster. It flashed up over the bank , and was gone before I could react. How could she be on it so fast and solid, then miss it so badly?

Near the end of the day I could feel a blister developing on my right heel. I called the dogs to me, laid down my gun, and sat down on a dry bank to take my boot off for a closer inspection. I pulled my boot off then looked up to see Juneau on point 20 feet away. I grabbed my gun, and with one boot, on and one boot off, moved in her direction. Two quail flushed and vanished around a bush before I got a shot off. I then hobbled back to my boot.

We tromped through lots of beautiful cover in this remote valley. We got some great exercise. We came home with tired legs and a good appetite. Rain is predicted for tomorrow, plus I have some non-hunting chores to do. So I guess the dogs will get a break tomorrow.

Beautiful Day as Season Winds Down

Actually it is the garage, but this time of year it doubles as a net hanging loft. Sometimes it's the wood shop, or car repair shop.

During the cold rainy weather before today this is where the dogs spent much of their time. They are curled up by the wood st0ve in the "net loft".

The big miss happened not too far from that brush at the left center of the picture. The bird flew about where you're looking. The eyebrow is out of sight over the hill.

This is brush in the the long apex of "the triangle". That is Idaho hills in the distance.

A great day to get back in the field. I climbed out of the pickup about 11:00 AM, hunting into the wind at the most productive 70 acres of cover I've found yet. I call it "the triangle." I, and people I've been hunting with, have taken at least 15 birds out of here this season. In less than 5 minutes, the dogs' bells had both abruptly stopped. They were right under the edge of a 20 foot high clump of brush that was within a few feet of a partially frozen stream. The deep grass was mashed over with snow and ice. I headed toward them. I could see that Lilly's backend was sticking up just a few feet past the brush, her tail motionless. My approach from this direction would almost guarantee the bird would flush behind the brush away from me, leaving me no shot. I started firmly but softly repeating, "Whoa!, whoa!" while I dashed back around the brush so I could come in from the other direction. Fifteen seconds later I started moving in, still encouraging Lilly to hold firm. When I was 10 feet from her, I spotted Juneau, her back camouflaged in the dry grass 6 feet below me on the creek bank. The day before I had been thinking about how she was starting to break point and rush at birds instead of letting me do the flushing. She was as tense as a compressed mainspring. I read her intentions, and started being as firm as I could be with a voice command. I edged closer. She made a short quick jump at the point of focus. Only a stubborn hen would sit so tight. Out exploded a big rooster!

I was so tense by now that as I swung, looking down the barrel, my motion was ridged and jerky, over correcting each time I adjusted my aim. "Pull the trigger you fool. He's getting away!" Well, he did. The first shot produced some feathers and slight falter in wing beat. The second shot nothing. I watched, hoping beyond hope that it would still fall out in the field it was crossing.

I was amazed, stunned, dejected and so disappointed!

The rush of the dogs crashing along the creek bank toward where we had just come, crossing a bridge, then racing out in the field chasing the bird, snapped me out of my disbelief. Then I took it out on the dogs for not being more controlled. I yelled and shocked at the same time. They yelped and started back to me, surprised and scared by my reaction. To get straight back to me, Lilly plunged down the far bank of the half frozen creek and stepped out on the ice. I frantically yelled at her to go back, but of course, she thought I was ordering her to get to me fast. The ice broke. Into the muddy flooding creek she went. Five strokes she was on my side, but the frozen grass bank was too steep for her to climb out. She was half way out of the water trying to get some traction. I dropped my gun, cautiously eased over the edge, got a hold of her collar and dragged her up the bank. Next came Juneau. No soft-footing the thin ice for her. She leaped in and swam across. I was waiting for her when she got to my side of the creek. Not only was I a bad shot, I was a bad handler, and worse trainer. I had completely fallen apart, becoming a danger to my dogs.

Just because I would like to have dogs that are staunch on wing and shot, doesn't mean it's going to happen without some training. If I had hit the bird, their rush to it would have gone unnoticed.
I would have been telling you about a great retrieve. If I don't want them to release after I shoot, hit or miss, I better train for it.

The dogs settled down quickly and went back to hunting. I was exhausted and depressed. "Maybe I should just load up and go home," I thought to myself. Maybe if we come back later we could have a replay, and I would get it right this time.

Of course we kept going. The dogs had 3 good double points in the next half hour, but no birds. On the fourth point Juneau was solid, but Lilly was unconvinced. She nosed around but didn't stop till I commanded her to. It was in some short brush, and I couldn't see what Juneau was doing. I could just tell she was stopped. As I moved in, Lilly was just watching and then Juneau pounced. She didn't trust my shooting. She acted like she had something trapped, however, nothing moved but her. I dropped my gun and rushed in. The dog's nose was half covered in a clump of dry grass. I reached down to clear the grass for a better view, when out popped the black head of a rooster, very much alive. I grabbed it, rung its neck, and was thinking, "Juneau is better at this than I am."

A couple minutes later a rooster wild-flushed out in front of Juneau. I swung right to left and dropped it. Broadside shots, shoot for the eye.

We hunted on around the triangle. It took 45 minutes to an hour more before we were back at the pickup. I just couldn't forget that first big miss earlier in the day.

Judging by the direction it flew, there was a good chance that it made it to an eyebrow about a half mile up a muddy half-frozen field access road. Wouldn't it be a great story if after an hour and a half of hunting in the opposite direction, we went back, tracked down our bird and got it.

A 15 minute hike got us to the patch of uncultivated side-hill, shaped like a two hundred yard long eyebrow, hence the label. When we first got there, Juneau went on solid point, but it was in short stubble. They must have just left. Twenty minutes of hunting produced nothing. Downhill we went, back to the pickup and home. We did see a few other birds during the hunt, but they were well out of range.

All day it was below freezing, clear with a 10 to 12 mph wind out of the southwest. Tomorrow should be the same.