Tag Archives: HEVI Shot

The 225 Mile U Turn

I can recall almost every hunt that Echo and I have experienced over the last 5 years. There are some hunts however that stand out because something remarkable occurs. Most often it is Echo doing something so tremendous that the moment is emblazoned in my mind forever. 

On this cold December day, Echo and I took the long drive to our favorite farm in Wray, Colorado. The plan was to meet up with a good friend and his dog by mid-morning. I know the area well, and I wanted to hunt a piece of land that we had not hit too many times over the last few years. The cows had not been let into both the north and southwest corners, so the cover circling the corn field was dense enough to hold birds. The wind was blowing over 10 mph from the northeast, so we started our walk from the opposite corner. Echo and I took a circuitous route to the end of the southwest corner so we hopefully would catch a pheasant napping. Once we got 20 yards out from the combination of grass and tumbleweeds, Echo started to get birdy. While I knew that we were in business, I was feeling a bit groggy from the long drive. When the rooster busted 15 yards to my right, I struggled to square up to the speedy bird. Two shots later, Echo paused her run as she realized that I had missed. My apology was heard, and we continued our work along the edge of the corn field. Echo will point when a bird freezes, and just moments after my failure, she stopped in her tracks. When she suddenly popped up, it caused the rooster to take flight. One shot of HEVI-METAL #4 knocked the bird out of the air.

With a bird in the vest, we continued our walk north into the next corner. There is tumbleweed filled ditches that surround this part of the field. Many times, the birds will evade our pursuit by carefully navigating these channels. About halfway through the middle of the northwest corner, Echo started to move with a purpose. While no birds took flight, I believed that she was pursuing more than one of the targeted species. As we approached the four rung barbed wire fence that abutted a ditch, Echo elevated into beast mode. Fueled by the scent of our quarry, my dog exploded through the bottom rung, but she caught a buckle of her chest protector on a single barb. That contact caused the entire vest to tear off her body. Once I put the fragments of the material in my pack, we started to work both sides of the ditch heading east. Echo remained hot but were not able to get the runners to fly.

My friend Oneal finally arrived, and he and Marley took the north side of the tree line that paralleled the two ditches we had just been hunting. As we walked west, Echo became excited as the northeast wind told her that birds were still present. Once Echo stopped and turned to our right, a rooster got up from the ditch and flew across the road. My first shot was behind the bird, but my next round knocked the bird to the ground. Unfortunately, the long shot was not lethal, and the speedy cock ran through the ditch and under the first fence. Echo was in full stride as she circumvented the lowest wire. She tore across the northwest corner just a few yards behind the bird. As the pheasant cut left it went under a second and then a third barbed wire fence. Echo tackled the bird, and headed back to me with the rooster in her mouth. After grabbing the bird, I noticed that my hand was covered in blood. It only took a few seconds to realize that Echo’s ear was split in half, and blood was gushing everywhere. It took me 30 minutes to slow the bleeding, and make the decision to head home. Almost 4 hours later, we arrived at the veterinarian, and Echo was stitched up.

This was the first major injury Echo suffered in all of our days spent in the field. Unfortunately, it would not be the last. On our first hunting trip after her ear had healed, Echo tore her knee open at some point during the day. The wounds Echo suffered shook me up. I thought I was prepared for handling my dog’s in-field ordeals. I wasn’t, and I am not sure how I am going improve my veterinarian skills.

Wild Birds

Season four with Echo had many memorable highlights. While birds in Eastern Colorado were not as abundant as in past years, she and I managed to get it done more often than not. There was one specific day in December that proved to be the most incredible I have ever witnessed in my years in the field.

Greg and I rolled into Yuma just after 8 am. The night before I received permission to hunt a fantastic half section of native grass just south of town. I hunted this property throughout the early part of the season, and I had taken a few roosters while seeing many more. The dogs hit the field with excitement as we made our way to the initial edge of the thigh-high cover. Not dissimilar to previous walks, there were birds present, but they all flushed wild. Seventy-five minutes later, and with no shots taken, Greg and I regrouped at the truck to debate what we would do next.

I have additional private access just west of town, and there are some good WIAs within minutes of our location. Taking a calculated risk, we made the decision to travel an hour east in order to hunt an exquisite farm just north of Wray. As we entered town, we noticed a blanket of fresh snow covering the ground. The newly discovered conditions brought great anticipation for the day ahead. As we drove to my favorite spot in Colorado, we pulled over to evaluate a corner where we have access. I noticed a hen sitting on a plum thicket branch about two feet above the snowy ground. She got fidgety and took off. An unseen rooster followed her, and then forty birds exploded from their hidden positions. Greg and I looked at one another and smiled.

We quietly approached the half section of CRP with a realistic expectation to find a lot of birds. Two cornfields border the 320 acres of tall grass, making this property an ideal environment for housing wild pheasants. As we walked north towards a perfectly designed shelterbelt, birds suddenly started to appear in every direction. Echo and I were still seventy-five yards from the trees when the action began. Literally two hundred pheasants took flight in groups of twenty. Picking up the pace Echo and I finally made it to the east side of the pines. As birds continued to fly in waves from their hiding spots, they veered away from me once they noticed my conspicuous location. I took a futile shot at a rooster that briefly appeared before vanishing from my vantage point. Echo remained focused as her senses were sharp given the number of birds that had been present. She and I made our way around to the backside of the windbreak, and a hen busted followed by a rooster. I mounted my shotgun and followed the bird to my right. One shot crumpled him, and Echo made a quick retrieve.

Echo and I limited out in less than an hour. We saw more wild pheasants on this one day then during ten trips combined last season. It was good to see these magnificent animals flourishing in ideal habitat.

A Colorado Pheasant Hunt – December 15, 2019

Hunting Partner

It is not uncommon during Colorado’s upland bird season for me to drive over 450 miles and walk 13 in a single day.  I am usually up just before 4 am, and out the door no later than 4:45 am.  The trip to the eastern corridor of the state is long, but I am fueled by both adrenaline & caffeine.  Upon arrival in bird country, my heart starts to race as I anticipate the day’s adventure. Once I am out of the truck, I expect that every shelterbelt, plum thicket and CRP field that I walk is loaded with exquisite pheasants.  The reality is that I generally walk for many miles before raising my shotgun at a crafty rooster.  There are days that can be bleak, and exhausting when no birds reveal themselves for hours on end. Upland hunting can be even more exasperating when erratic shooting undermines limited opportunities.

It takes someone with comparable DNA to want to prowl the prairie with you. They possess the same commitment, passion and unadulterated love for the chase. Your hunting partner embraces the grind, and he does not need an explanation when you want to hit one more spot late in the day before the long journey home. They don’t have to be a colleague at work, a college roommate or even your best friend. They just need to bring the same level of intensity to the sometimes-complex, arduous process of hunting the uplands. I value those people that pursue birds with me. I enjoy talking strategy with them, and learning from their divergent experiences in the field. They know when they can chide me for missed shots, but they are also aware when silence is golden. It takes time to create the mutual trust to want to begin hunting together. Once the required commonalities are satisfied, a unique respect between people is born.

My hope is that both of my teenage sons evolve to become zealous wingshooters. I know that I cannot force them to love it, and that there is an opportunity cost associated with hunting with their dad. That said, my boys would be my ideal hunting partners.

A Colorado Pheasant Hunt – December 15, 2019 – The Video

Alone

I enjoy spending time by myself. Time alone allows me to focus on specific things that are happening in my life. I can be introspective, and evolve thoughts without distraction. I am able to laugh at my shortcomings, while appreciating the many blessings bestowed upon me. When I am alone, I am only accountable to myself, and the principles that guide me.

Despite the many virtues associated with solitude, when I hunt, I would rather it be with a good friend.

On opening day of Colorado’s pronghorn season, I hunted solo during the morning into the early afternoon. I was able to put the sneak on two good bucks, but passed on them as I was hopeful I could find a better animal. While I was not discouraged, I knew that I had to be cognizant of the time as Saturday would be my only full day in the field.

Soon after lunch, I asked Bob to join me in my quest for the right buck. I soon realized that my question was selfish as he had to assist other people who were less acquainted with the ranch. I made my way to another pasture with a new friend. Scott harvested a buck earlier in the day in the Two Section pasture, and he witnessed at least one more mature male during his pursuit. We walked for two hours, but only managed to locate two does. As we made our way back to my truck, I saw Bob’s truck heading down the county road in our direction. Scott had to head home, so I volunteered Bob to spend the rest of the day with me.

With just over two hours of hunting light left, we made our way to the Box Car pasture. It did not take long to glass a small group of pronghorn, including a giant buck. They were feeding, and just over 1,000 yards away from our position. We worked quickly, and closed the distance to 300 yards without spooking the 4 animals. After a 20 yard belly crawl, I set up my tripod and pointed the rifle through the tall grass at the unsuspecting buck. My first shot went high, and the two subsequent shots missed as well. Admittedly, I was perplexed with my poor shooting, as well as a bit angry and embarrassed. Instead of dwelling on my failure, Bob refocused me on getting after one more animal before the day ended. As the sun set behind us, we stumbled upon a large group of antelope facing away from our position. We got to 100 yards, and we were able to see the horns on the male. He was very average, but ostensibly in my range. Once he spotted us, he activated his 18 bedded down does, and they all started to trot west. Bob told me the male was at 200 yards, and awaited my decision. My first shot missed, but the next bullet dropped the pronghorn to the ground.

As I lay in bed that night, I reflected on the day’s events. I replayed the missed opportunity a few times, but soon recognized how gratifying the day had been despite my obvious failure. I was able to take a respectable animal, and more importantly, celebrate the success with a valued friend.

The Birds are Back in Town

I envy hunters that tell me that they shot their first bird with their dad’s supervision at 12 years old. By contrast, I shot my first wild rooster in my early 40s, and did it without any guidance.  I remember the overwhelming excitement when I stepped into my first walk-in-area (WIA) on opening day 2011.  This was followed by an intense adrenaline rush when my dog Pride stopped in the middle of a CRP field, and a pheasant flushed from the high grass.  When he eventually returned the downed bird, I was transformed into an upland addict.

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2016 represents my 6th season pursuing wild birds.  I now consider myself a quasi-veteran bird hunter.  Though the intense emotions associated with each hunt have not changed, my years of experience in the field keeps me focused on the task at hand.  While my shooting and gun dog skills need constant refinement, the odds for a successful hunt have improved.

Our annual bird hunt took place at the end of November.  Regular precipitation in our region over the last 2 years set the stage for a promising upland season.  Echo, my 11-month-old Labrador Retriever, has been through weeks of gun dog training.  While she is young, Echo demonstrates all of the signs of a canine ready to do what she was bred to do.20161118_061647

Greg and I drove out to eastern Colorado during the early afternoon on November 14th.  The plan was to hunt a few public fields late that afternoon, then slowly migrate to the Lenz Family Farms with the rest of the guys on Friday.  The weather in the area was predicted to get nasty.  Temperatures would drop from the 50s to the upper 20s, and blizzard-like conditions would provide the first snow of the fall.  Echo and her brother, Whitley hunted until dusk.  We uncovered more than a few birds, but the snow/wind combination made visibility problematic.  To that point, we ended the hunt, and carefully navigated our way to the hotel.

Temperatures Friday morning were in the teens, and the sun glistened off the freshly fallen snow.  Greg, Bob, Oneal and I knew that birds would congregate around cover, and should be averse to flying.  We made our way to a WIA that Greg identified as a honey-hole years before.  As we neared the field, both trucks became lodged in the deep snow drifts covering the two track.  We spent 30 minutes trying to dig ourselves out, but could not make any headway.  Realizing that it would be a while before Oneal’s buddy could rescue us, the 4 of us walked to the public field just a few hundred yards from our position. 20161118_0743490

It did not take long before we witnessed birds flushing from the tall plum thickets situated around a cut corn field.  In an attempt to flank the fleeing birds, I ran to the southeastern side of the cover.  Perhaps that was a tactical error as the birds already emptied into the corn by the time I reached the edge of the field.  Greg and Bob took Whitley to the southeast, while Oneal, Echo and I worked our way northwest.  Roosters continue to explode from the adjacent shelter-belt, and I continued to miss them.  I am certain Echo was not thrilled with my underwhelming performance, yet she continued to hunt with determination.  As I neared a fallen juniper, Echo went on point.  Excited by her posture, I moved towards her, and a covey of bobwhite quail exploded just 10 feet from me.  I selected one bird and fired, but again failed to connect. Dejected but not deterred by my repeated misses, we made our way to the edge of a long, tree-lined draw.  Echo was working the bottom when two roosters busted at about 25 yards.  Tree limbs obstructed my shooting angle, but I managed to get one clean round off.  It was the most difficult shot of the day, and I actually connected!  Echo moved with purpose towards the downed bird 30 yards from my position.  We made our recovery, and took a moment to reflect on what just occurred.  Bob and I continued to uncover birds during the rest of the walk.  Unfortunately, we failed to capitalize on the opportunities presented.

Oneal’s buddy, Mark, removed both trucks with his tractor, and we eventually made our way to the next field.  The rest of the guys arrived throughout the day.  We hunted a bunch of private land, and managed to locate birds in every field.  The weekend at the Lenz Family Farms proved to be epic.  Pheasants and quail were abundant, and we were able to harvest our share.

My friends and I have done this trip for 5 years.  This season marked the first time we were able to witness large numbers of birds thriving in an ideal environment.  Hopefully, the weather continues to cooperate, and wildlife habitat preservation remains a priority.
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Video Highlights from the 2016 Pradera
Upland Hunt

Product

Comment

Pheasants Forever Colorado I will continue to get more involved in our local chapter.
Echo We love our puppy. Great at home and in the field.
SportDOG Upland Hunter 1875 Used the collar for years.  Rugged, effective and dependable.
MobileStrong Has become a must have product for me.  Evaluate it.
SoundGear I can hear birds get up many yards away + the protection.  Great!
HEVI-SHOT Average shooting will get the bird on the ground.  Lethal ammo.
OnXmaps Public or private land hunt, this is a great tool for all outdoorsmen.
Orvis ToughShell Jacket/Pants Best upland clothing I have ever worn.
Irish Setter DSS King Toe Boots After 3 years, still my favorite pair.
Benelli Ethos Expensive, but dependable and accurate. Archer not the bow.
Pelican™ Weapons Case Rifle or shotgun, this case provides protection and security.  A must for the traveling hunter.