Stumbling over the top of the hill my
eyes found Sunnie standing on point 100 yards from where I crested.
After taking a couple more steps I could see she was actually backing
Tic who was 30 yards out in front her. I took three more steps and
the mountain exploded with chukars. As luck would have it I was just
out of range. I stood with my hands on my hips gasping for air, and
wondering how many times this has happened to me. It was the first
flush of the day and it looked like they didn’t go very far so I
came up with a strategy to get on top of them and released the dogs
from their stand. I put the dogs at heel so they wouldn’t continue
to push the birds up the mountain and we quickly made our way to the
other side of the ridge so as to sneak around on them. We worked
along the side hill to gain elevation on the north facing slope. It
was difficult with the slippery footing and uneven terrain, but on a
gorgeous, sunny, February day in western Utah I couldn’t imagine
doing anything else. The mid-morning sunlight was reflecting off of
the snowy north facing slopes. It really brought out the brilliance
of rock and grass of the bare south facing slopes. The beauty of the
world we live in that few seem to notice these days is just
breathtaking. The scenery wasn’t all that was making me short of
breath. The clime was exhausting, and my legs were starting to feel
as though they were made of jello. I was thinking to myself next year
I need to work harder at fitness. When we got to the highest point on
the hill we stepped over the top to start working back toward where
the big covey had landed. Just as I peaked over the hill I noticed
Sunnie had slipped off somewhere. I guess I was not paying attention
while as I was struggling and gasping for air. It wasn’t long
before I spotted her running at full gate toward the location that I
thought the birds had gone, and on the wrong side of the wind. Sure
enough she stopped to flush as the birds escaped across the canyon
and over the next ridge. Dang it Sunnie! I stood catching my breath.
The evil chant of the Chukars on the next ridge started to really
irritate me. I wanted to raise my fist and yell at them like a grumpy
old man telling those dang kids to stay of his lawn, but I didn't. I
had been climbing for three hours so I was not happy at the thought
of walking down into the canyon and back up to the top of the next
ridge to try once again to get in shooting range of those evil little
birds. Being as driven as I am to get birds isn't always easy so I tightened my boot laces, thought it's not going to kill me, and off I
went. When I got to the top of the next ridge I could hear and feel
my heart pounding in my chest, and then I felt it sink as I realized
that those dang birds had landed in the middle of big patch of pinion
junipers, and that I probably wouldn’t be able to see them to shoot
even if we did find them. “Boy, I cant catch a break”, I said to
myself. The dogs were already down in the trees so I followed, and
when I found Tic he was standing tall. Moments later I saw Sunnie
below him standing birds in another spot. Hustling down the hill I
slipped on some loose shale, and fell down smacking the middle of my
spine on a rock. My clumsiness had made a real racket, and I could
hear birds jumping. I couldn’t see them. I was flat on my back and
my legs tingled like your arm does when you hit your funny bone. For
a few minutes I thought I might be in real trouble. I noted as I was
laying there that I saw a glimpse of two birds that looked to have
landed down the ridge 200 yards or so. I looked my gun over to make
sure I hadn’t put any new scars on it. I love that 525 Browning,
and thank goodness I had managed to hold it out of harms way. It was
as clean and beautiful as ever. Several minutes went by before I was
feeling like I might be able to get to my feet. My legs were still
feeling sort of asleep as I struggled to get up, but get up I did. I
walked around for a minute or two trying to decide if I needed to
give up the hunt or go on, but the more I walked the better I was
feeling so I decided to continue. Remembering where I thought those
two birds had landed I worked my back up, again. Once at the top of
the ridge we once again worked down the ridge toward the place I
thought they would be. Wasting no time at all Sunnie made scent and
slammed into a
beautiful point. This was the best situation we had
all morning. I was quickly walking in almost forgetting the pain in
my back when I saw Tic quartering back to us right toward where the
birds were from the wrong side of the wind. He couldn’t
see Sunnie. I knew what was going to happen before I even got there.
I had no choice, so I whistled the whoa command with hopes I could
stop him from running through the birds. He stopped and the 10 or so
birds that were there jumped from the sound of the whistle. I was
still 60 yards out. “This just isn’t my day” I thought. I was
really frustrated now, and I could see the dogs were too. With a sigh
I made a plan to start my descent and we went on our way feeling a
little defeated. We worked down the ridge back in the direction from
which we came trying to get back to the place where we first found
birds. At one point we came to a skyline and another big covey of 75
birds got nervous and flushed from the other side of the canyon. I
just stood and laughed. I am nothing if not persistent so we hunted
on. I wondered if I would ever fire a shot on this day. We had seen
so many birds and nothing had went our way. The dogs kept working and
I tried to keep my chin up. Another hour had gone by before Sunnie
stopped and pointed again. I hustled in expecting the birds to jump
before I got there. I had no Idea where Tic was either so I half
expected him to mess things up, but not this time. It was a single
bird, and he made a mistake and held. I was so excited when it jumped
10 yards in front of me that I almost panicked. Calmness prevailed,
and all in one continuous motion my gun jumped to my shoulder, found
the bird, and the bottom barrel connected. “fetch Sunnie”, I
yelled as she was already in motion. Then my heart sunk again as I
saw the winged bird running away 100 yards down hill. I couldn’t
believe it. Was this little bugger going to get away too? Experience
has taught me that if I can stand and watch often a crippled chukar
will crawl under a sage brush or rock and hold at some point. This
bird did that and I was able to direct Tic to it. Finally
we had a
bird in hand. I had to walk back up to start hunting again but I had
new life in my legs, my back hurt, but it wasn’t as bad now. As we
worked the rest of the way down the ridge Tic, and Sunnie would take
turns pointing and backing until Tic found the final bird of my limit
down in the bottom. They really looked like a magnificent team even
in their fatigued state. I was grateful to be on the hill in the
company of the two dogs I had been cursing earlier. Its funny how we
sometimes judge our four legged friends by the circumstance more than
their actual abilities.
I finally took some pictures and started
the 90 minute walk back to the truck. Together the dogs and I had 10
sore feet, and one very sore back, but a definite feeling of
accomplishment. The harder you work the sweeter the prize. It's
true.
BTW. I'm fine its nothing more than a deep bruise.
