Hunting

‘Twas a fitting farewell to the last hour of bird hunting in central Iowa.  Not a minute from the truck, we were into the thick of things. My little Brittany, Shorty, climbed a steep embankment on the edge of a gravel road and slammed on the brakes. He stood there for ten, fifteen seconds – […]

Four days of hunting. Four limits of wild rooster pheasants. It’s not an easy feat by any stretch of the imagination, but my pals and I from Michigan had a few things going for us when we made the big drive to North Dakota.  We weren’t on a game farm or a pheasant ranch. The

East Central, North Dakota. ‘Twas a sight seldom seen in Michigan. As we drifted over a small rise in the landscape, a pair of pheasants drifted out of the vast prairie and into a cattail slough the size of a soccer field. Our truck slammed on the brakes as we watched the spectacle unfold. The

GRAND MARAIS, MI- After a beautiful fall road trip up the middle of Michigan’s Lower Peninsula and crossing the Straights of Mackinac, I finally made the easy left turn onto highway M-123.  North by northwest I went, through the little hamlets of Trout Lake, Newberry and at last, Seney.  Squalls of needle fine rain painted

Seems like an odd time of year to be taking an oily rag to my old 12 gauge.  After all, the last time I picked it up was in December on a late-season pheasant hunt.  Autumn, for me, is the season of shot-gunning and chasing my Brittany round the grouse covers of Michigan or the

Kidder County, North Dakota.   We couldn’t have picked a worse day weather-wise for our first crack at North Dakota’s pheasants.  The temperature wasn’t that far north of freezing and the wind must have been blowing 25, with gusts to 40.  A needle fine rain had turned to sleet, and it banged off the lids of