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3300 miles. The trip from west Michigan to North Dakota, back through the U.P. and home. What a time, good bird numbers, great dog work, and even some good shooting. Dave TerHaar and I left last Friday, the 12 of September at 2:30 in the morning and drove pretty much straight through until late Friday night, allowing us to hunt the sharptail/hun opener out west, my first time there hunting, and what a blast. Scott Berg was also out there training with one of his friends. Opening morning was great with just a little wind and some ice in the bowls. We hit some spots and also scouted for the rest of the week, while tallying a few birds along the way. The next morning we worked a shift, before eventually hitting about a 5 mile long two track while almost burying Dave's truck, eventually stumbling upon a nice looking pasture. This day belonged to Otty and Dave's 7 month old pup Sally, as we moved hundreds of birds, getting lots of good dog work and birds in the bag. The next day we were going to try for some huns, and what a blast they were. We found a nice cooley, surounded by wheat stuble on the sides, and we put Dave's Thunder dog down with my pup, Coco. Thunder broke away strong and we found him about 400 yards ahead standing out from a bush, which eventually exploded with huns. The only problem with this spot was some cows eventually tried to stampede us, and the pup. Otty and Sally also managed to have another good shift after this, landing three nice coveys of huns, where I learned the hard way, that these art tuff little damn birds. On the last covey when I shot one, and Otty retreived it, I rung its neck a few times, threw it in my pouch, and started heading towards the truck as we had our limit. About three hundred yards later my game pouch started flopping around, and a bird jumped out of the bag onto the ground. I just sort of stood there like wow, as I was heeling the dog and she tried to grab it, while it eventually stumbled to its feet and took off flying over about a 400 yard valley, while I stumbled to get my gun, and fire both triggers, hitting it once, I though darnit, now I have to walk about a quarter mile, as I marked it landing. I headed with the dog, she pointed, and the sucker was still running, so I moved her on and eventually recovered this little bugger, what a bird. Back to the house we went. The next days performance went to Ivy, as she is an 8 month old tricolor setter, and she was moving through the wayside on this 80+ degree day. She eventually swapped ends out in the open about three hundred yards in front of us and just hammered this covey of sharptails. Dave and I shot a couple of birds for her and she retreived as proud as a peacock. We fried some birds up for dinner tonight. The next morning we took Rocko out to some PLOTS land, which is walk in hunting land, and he dug up sharpies for the morning. Later that night we found a spot that looked fair, and we put Freddy down, where he pointed a couple of pheasants, which are not huntable until later in the fall. Eventully we got him into some sharptails. We also had about a three hundred acre pasture out behind the house we rented, which I took Coco, my 7 month old pup out to, and got her to point some sharptails, getting her first taste of wild bird, as Dave and I dumped a couple of birds for her. She was geeked. I also had some good hunts with Gus, my hunting dog, where he pointed many different birds. The days were all filled with a lot of dog talk and b.s. as we never ate dinner before it got dark, and saw tons of beautiful country. We also got to meet some all-age horseback trainers, which was great. It was very intriguing to hear their emphasis on handling and wild bird dogs. The week eventually drew to an end. as temps were getting up over 80 most afternoons, and the U.P. weather looked more promising. The dogs also needed a day off as well, as every dog was double shifted for 6-7 days in a row with warm temps, and long hunts. Therefore, we headed for Michigan's Upper Peninsula. We drove again pretty much straight through, and were able to get a good weekend of hunting in. The first day we went to our opening day spot, which was a week late for us this year, but still had to axe our way in as trees were blown over. Once there, we threw old-faithful down, Rocko. Last year at this spot he went on a bird finding tear, ripping off 10 grouse finds in an hour. This year was similar, with 4-5 grouse finds, and 4 woodcock finds in the first shift. What a fun dog to hunt over. It eventually warmed up to the mid 80's, so we took the afternoon off to check in, as we just sort of dumped our stuff out in the lawn at our cabin, and also made our way to town to get more groceries and eat. Later that night we went to another nice spot near the autumn olives, where Gus had 4 grouse finds, with some less than impressive shooting by yours truly; it must have been the sun that time. In the last shift before dark, I ran Freddy were he came up with a grouse, which didn't allow for a shot. The next day Thunder had numerous finds, which we were able to harvest a couple of. Scott Borgeson also had found his way up for todays hunt, with one of his friends and his friends' son. We all sort of hunted in nearby covers and had a good day, getting a nice bird harvest to accompany the dog work. The last shift of the night I took Scott's friend Damion, and his ten year old son out with Freddy, where he had 4 solid woodcock finds, with Damion's ten year old son Blake shooting one of them with his single shot .410. That night we fried up some more birds and sat around the dinner table. The next morning we hunted a little, and eventually headed home, as the dogs were pretty tired, some injured, some sore, and some relishing the beginning of a hopeful life as a bird dog.
