Fall Is Close - So Is Bird Hunting

It was the quintessential neighborhood icon, the Sunflower, which first made me contemplate Autumn and the upcoming hunting season. The cooler weather and heavy rain made their water-laden heads droop, almost as if they were bowing in reverence. Is it really only August 7^th? What a nice reprieve from the summer’s heat. No question – Autumn is in the air early this year and according to 2 News Weather this pattern will persist.

In the low, fast-moving clouds I earnestly track multiple squadrons of quaks speeding to and from destinations unknown to me and I wonder, do others notice these rather obscure clusters flying about or is it just us waterfowlers?

The land and crops are also showing signs of fall. They’re turning that wonderful shade of gold I so love. I doubt the uninitiated really care much but to us bird-hunters it’s a thing of beauty, a harbinger of good things to come.

A few of the wheat fields have already been cut and even plowed under. What a shame. With a nice goose-blind they could have been put to such good use this coming fall. Soon the tall corn will be also be nothing more than stubble and as I drive home I wonder if I can muster the chutzpa to ask some farmer to hold-off plowing his field under until I’ve sufficiently exhausted its hunting potential. Don’t they know, birds need habitat. I suppose they have their reasons.

Each day the season gets closer and as it approaches I find it more and more difficult to concentrate on work. Instead I find myself perusing the Cabelas Fall catalog and exploring the Fish and Game website for opening dates. Soon my doggies will be dropping quail, chukar, huns, pheasants, grouse and best of all ducks into my waiting hand.

The dove season is only three weeks away and I’ve already secured my hunting privileges with a local landowner. Doves provide such a nice early-season tune-up. Their tweety-bird flight patterns make for difficult targets and since they offer little scent, dog-handling is often an fun part of the aftermath.

Next down the pike come quail, blue grouse and by mid-September, the opening day for chukar arrives here in Idaho. September is a little early in my opinion - too hot for the dogs and the cheat grass still retains those unfriendly canine chards.

The Oregon opener on the other hand comes one month later and the hunting is far better. I and my buddies will have waited over eight long months for this masochistic leg-burn. In years past, a limit was commonplace but no so of late. No one ever really knows how well the hatch has fared until opening day when we either hear something akin to an all-out war or just heavy breathing as sweat pours from the brim of our hats. Regardless of odds, we continue to haul ourselves over the brutal Owyhee Mountains – last year over 200 miles.

Maybe I ’m imagining this but I think my dogs sense the upcoming season. They lift their heads curiously and track me whenever I move about. I think they’re checking to see if I’ve donned my camo garb. Soon I’ll be testing the new skills that I hopefully infused in them over the spring and summer. If it weren’t for training and AKC hunt tests what would there be except boredom between seasons.

My old big game friends ask me why I no longer hunt with them. It’s simply this. A day hunting big game is a day I could have been shooting birds under my labs – no contest; bird hunting wins every time.

Final preparations are underway as I check each day off the calendar. What’s left really except cleaning my shotgun, getting the decoys in order door knock to garner a few more hunting permissions. Soon that anticipated day will arrive and every year after I kill that first bird the same thought crosses my mind – Is this the best sport in the world or what!