THE 2012 CANADIAN HUNT

This fall was different.  I was prepared to upland hunt with two old time friends I had not traveled with for over 10 years.  The eldest was in his early 80's fit as they come being an Ph.D. former human physiology professor at a well known University.  He was an Idaho farm boy that went east to school and returned to the West to pursue his love of hunting dogs, finely made side by side shotguns and a sportsmanlike behavior.  His mom moved him away from the irrigated fields of Idaho as the young beautiful Mormon gals wanted  his companionship in high school.  His Mum had different plans and moved the family back east away fron his temptress.  Still today, Don missed the companionship of the farmers daughter.

 The younger hunter in his late 60's was a gentle giant who appeared as though he stepped off the boat from Sweden. He was farm boy from Iowa who loved the outdoors so much he traveled to Alaska to hunt and fish after finishing his civil engineering degree. He tells me stories of moose hunts, sheep climbs and many days on the river.  Above all his love fore Iowa pheasant hunting controls his love affair with dogs and an excellent collection of differently designed double smooth bores. In the end I enjoy them both because the are sportsman and love dogs, great wine scotch and fine weapons.

Twenty years ago I invited them to travel with me to Saskatchewan and experience the wonderful farming families, wide open spaces and great bird hunting. Each year they return to the same place while I moved around always looking for different spots and meeting the homespun kindness of Saskatchewan rural families.
This year in this particular area the numbers of spring clutches was down.  The Huns had not recovered from the devastating Prairie snows of 2010.  It will take several mild winters to bring the number back., but there was enough to keep the sprints high.

Our first bird drive was about 10 minutes from the motel and campground.  I timed our hunt to make sure most of the birds were in cover after their morning feed of wheat. I spotted a covey  racing through the wheat stubble to the Caragana. I was a perfect setup.  I let my companion out and instructed him to inform the others not to start the drive through the cover until I was in a flanking position.  The birds would be focusing on me as I drove across the stubble making all sort of comotion.  The drive had begun and several adult blew out of the cover both able to head over the nearest rise in the stubble. I knew there had to be more birds and when a great horned ow flew fro
 the bush. I knew there was prey to be had.   The wind was favorable but strong.  I figured the birds would lift into the wind have a tailwind. The hunter would have to be quick.

Then by design a horde of pheasants busted out.  Often female hen can be mistaken for Sharptail and surely these excitable men having the sun in their eyes might mistake one for as delicious grouse.  The pheasants keep flushing as I got closer.  I counted 15 birds when the covey of Hun with their red tail lifted caught the wind and after six shoots not a brace to be had.  They were marked about 400 yards to the west in the middle of stubble and the hunt was on again.

Don the magnificent was in automatic and he knew how they would lift to the wind.  Chuck the newbie took the flank and at once I show Don aim and two birds went down before I heard the crack. Chuck had his shot and one fell but was a runner.  After 15 minuted and giving the Brittany time to hunt the runner up, I turned loose the lab and the wirehair.  The puppy lab was all excited and hung close to the hunter. Over my shoulder from the spectators, yelled that Fe the wirehair was on point.  She had found the cripple.  Age is a wonderful thing and having a 12 year old wirehair outhutting a lab and Brittany was fondly remembered.