Open-Field Tackle

Bandit's and my first trip to South Dakota together was in 2006. We made the trip with my aunt and uncle and their lab/shorthair cross, Cedar.

We had several successful days of hunting with Cedar the wily 12-year-old veteran and Bandit the precocious newbie. At dinner every night, the talk always turned to, "what would happen if bandit encountered a live pheasant in an open field." We had lots of laughs playing out the scenarios, but I knew deep down that he'd have no trouble with it.

We soon found out.

We were pushing toward the end of a grassy draw that ran right up to a plowed field. Bandit flushed a rooster just at the edge of gun range, and my uncle dropped it with a 40-yard shot. The bird's legs were turning over before it even hit the ground!

The landed in the field and took off. Bandit was 50 yards behind, but gaining ground fast. When he finally caught up to the bird, it began to "duck and weave" and run in circles. Finally, Bandit lunged, grabbing the bird by the neck. It was still kicking and fighting, so Bandit couldn't get a good grip on the bird to bring it back to me.

The bird got loose for a moment and took off running again. This time, Bandit tackled the bird hard and rolled it. He then grabbed hold of the neck again, gave it a good shake, and came trotting back to me, his prize pheasant held high in the air.

Most people chuckle at the idea of a Jack Russell Terrier hunting pheasants. I have to admit, I even question my own sanity sometimes. But after hunting with him, one has to admit: he's legit.

Shoulda' Woulda' Coulda'

We were this close to having our limit. Not that I'm complaining! It was probably the best in-state hunting day I've had in a couple years. It's tough to beat a 9:1 rooster-to-hen ratio.

I met up with my new hunting buddy Wade, his girlfriend Brittany, and their Small Munsterlander, Deke.
Unfortunately, Bandit wasn't able to come due to some sort of injury. I don't know what happened, but he's been limping around for the last few days. I thought he was fully healed and I had him all loaded up and ready to go hunting when he started limping again. It drove him crazy to see me leaving without him, but I've got to protect him from himself.
We hit up one of my favorite WPAs west of St. Cloud. The first couple hours we walked through a lot of thick, swampy grass and only saw two birds flush, both well out of range. Maybe these early-season birds were smarter than we thought!

I read an article recently about how timing can greatly influence your success when pheasant hunting. With so much corn still out in the fields, this was particularly important now. The pheasants will always come back to the cover to roost for the evening, and this usually occurs just before dark.

About an hour before sunset we decided to push through my favorite spot on this particular land. About 50 yards in, a rooster flushed 5 feet in front of me. It startled me, and I must not have mounted my gun properly, because I missed with 4 consecutive shots. Wade also missed the bird twice as it sailed into the corn.

We continued on and Deke flushed another bird, which provided a long crossing shot that was subsequently missed. We were just getting ready to turn back when we saw a rooster land 150 yards ahead. We decided we should go after him. Good call.

When we got to the spot where we'd seen the bird land, Deke got very birdy. A rooster flushed about 50 yards ahead of us. Then another one flushed close. We shot simultaneously, there was puff of feathers, and we knew we had a dead bird.

Just seconds later, another rooster flushed, and we dropped it at about 30 yards. The way the bird went down, we were convinced it had been dead in the air. I went to look for the first bird, and Wade went after the second. I was able to find mine quickly, but Wade wasn't so lucky. We spend about 20 minutes searching for that bird with no luck. It must have hit the ground running. We and the dog scoured the area, but nothing materialized. This is where I missed having Bandit along. He's hell on running birds.

I hate the thought of leaving wounded game in the field. It makes me ill. But we gave it our absolute best shot, and a fox will likely get a good meal.

Deke did a great job. It was my first time hunting with a Small Musterlander, and I was impressed! He hunted exactly the way I like a dog to hunt. Relentless in his search for birds, yet never too far away and quite obedient with a calm disposition. You could tell he was actualling "thinking" while he was hunting.

Judging by the spurs, I'd say this is a 2-year-old bird. Most birds I bag are young, so it was a treat to outsmart an old veteran.

Theoretically, we could have had our limit. Which is saying a LOT for Central MN.

Success!

I ended up having a relatively successful pheasant opener, despite the fact that all my plans fell apart at the last minute. We were originally supposed to hunt some private land in the Marshall area, but there was apparently some miscommunication and we weren't able to go.

Instead, we hit up some public land west of town. We had 4 hunters and 2 dogs, Bandit the JRT and Porter the German Wirehair. We got there a little late due to the icy roads, but luckily there were no other hunters in "my spot". I soon found out why. Due to all the recent rain we've gotten, my spot was kind of a swamp.

Fortunately, we were able to find some higher ground, and we flushed 5 birds in just over an hour. Only one rooster got up in range, and I was able to bring it down. I guess my shooting practice over the summer must have paid off! Public land birds in the St. Cloud area are hard to come by, so every one is a trophy, especially considering how much corn was still out in the fields.

Upon exiting the field, we were checked by a DNR officer. He said that, of all the groups he'd checked, we had fared the best. He also told us that all the public land in the area had been hit hard. We then decided to avoid the crowds and head north to do some grouse hunting for the rest of the day. We had less success there, flushing only a pair of woodcock and one hen pheasant.

I generally prefer to hunt later in the season, after the crowds are gone and the fields have been harvested, but the opener is such an "event" for me that I can't resist getting out.

I couldn't keep him away from the pheasants!

Licking his chops. He knows he always gets a few scraps while I'm cleaning the birds.

Gettin' In Shape

Bandit and I are both coming into the Fall hunting season a little out of shape, with me having suffered a bad bicycle crash and bandit herniating a disc in his back when he fell out of a tree.

We were both laid up a lot of the summer, but we're trying to beat ourselves back into shape now. He seems to be doing better with it than I am! After about an hour of mountain biking, I'm huffing and puffing while he's looking at me wondering why I'm being such a wuss.

OK, back to Bandit's injury. How did he fall out of a tree, you ask? Why, he chased a squirrel up there, of course! He then lost his footing and fell about 10 feet down, landing with his back on a rock. He couldn't even go up and down the stairs in our house for almost a week. Scary stuff.

Pheasant opener is tomorrow. I hope we're ready!

How Cold Is It?

Time to break out the boots and jacket!

Actual air temperature is -26. Wind chill is -52. Some of the skin on Bandit's belly is looking kind of black, almost like some superficial frostbite on the outter layer. For the last 3 days he's only been able to tolerate being outside to go to the bathroom. We're both starting to get a bit antsy!

FAIL

I had a big ol' failure of a grouse hunting trip on Tuesday. My nephew has never shot a grouse, and I wanted to show him a good time. The plan was to head up to the Mille Lacs area, but once we got there I could tell we were in for a tough day. The 55-mile drive took over 2 hours due to snow, and we got my Exploder stuck when attempting to pull into the parking lot of the first WMA we were going to hunt.

After being pulled out by a guy in a monster truck we decided to stick to the main roads. I found some good-looking cover of conifers at the edge of a Poplar patch, but as soon as we got out of the car we found that the snow was over 3 feet deep. My nephew could barely walk through it and poor Bandit was practically swimming! Look at the picture above...you can barely see him! We hunted unsuccessfully for about 30 minutes before we had to call it a day.

The chili cheese fries at Hardee's did an adequate job of brightening my spirits. Sometimes we have to find joy in the little things.

This may be the end of my hunting season. Sunday is the last day I can legally hunt, and we've got yet another blizzard forecast for this weekend.

My hunting success, as well as my shooting, was remarkably sub-par this Fall. I'm hoping that additional training (for both Bandit and myself) will help to make next year more successful.

Vanishing Act

My sister's boyfriend Kyle made the trek to St. Cloud yesterday to go chase some roosters around. He brought his lab, which was relatively inexperienced and not highly trained, but did a nice job helping us beat down the cattails.

We went back to the same WMA that I kicked 10 hens out of last week, with quite different results. In contrast to last weekend's snowstorm, today was sunny and warm. The birds seemed to be making the most of these conditions and were on the run most of the day. We saw plenty of tracks and the dogs got on several scent trails of 100 yards or more, but nothing would fly.

Bandit had a tough time pushing through the 8+ inches of snow on the ground, but still had a good time regardless. While it would have been nice to see some birds, I'm still thankful that I was able to get out and enjoy what may be one of the last nice days we have this year.