Sometimes you get a gift
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The wind of this year's pheasant opener weekend was notable, but there were more than enough birds to make the two-day stretch memorable even with a good deal of standing corn on the landscape. On Saturday, from the south, the 30 mile per hour gusts pumped in heat which shortened our day in the field as temperatures soared to near 80 by noon. On Sunday, they switched behind a cold front and northwest gales buffeted the efforts of my buddy Adam and I as we explored some hillsides along a prairie lake west of our hometown. An occasional spit of rain made things challenging as the gusts ramped up in the morning while the dogs worked the scent in the knee-high grasses.
Atop the hill, with the wind at our back, the dogs got on the scent of something that had wound its way up the rise from the fenced edge of the parcel. As we worked our way downwind of the apex, a jackrabbit bounded away catching the attention of both our dogs -- my old lab, Ole, and his young lab, Kasi -- and they followed. Quickly another gray-and-white blur jumped up and sprinted for the fenceline, and then another, and the trio of leaping rabbits pulled their interest in all directions. The diversion was just enough to allow a wily rooster to flush on the far side of the hill a few moments later and leave us all flummoxed.
Winding down to the leeward side of the acreage, we turned back into the wind as the gusts escalated. Tiny cold drops of rain hit my cheeks and eyelids like icy daggers, and yet another rooster evaded our detection and our shots, as it sprinted behind us and took off as we turned to watch him sail on the rising winds. With the navy blue of my long-sleeved hunting shirt turning more of a midnight hue as it absorbed the precipitation, I welcomed the end of the walk about 200 yards up in a small point of grass pinned by the lake's shore and the fenced edge along the ditch of the adjacent gravel road.
Squinting against the rain I looked up to see two roosters take flight near the final area of the walk, but apparently challenged by the breeze as well, they didn't go far and set down in the final 10 yards of the path before us. It was about as an ideal of an opportunity as one could get for such a challenging morning.
Signaling to my buddy and quickly getting waved confirmation that he had seen them land, we snuck up on their spot, knowing a good shot likely lay ahead for bagging a bird in the increasingly difficult conditions, perhaps even two if we played it right. Closing in, we were surprised by a short-flushing hen and then just a few steps behind her the roosters lifted and held in the wind. While we emptied our over-unders at the pair, we were only able to catch the back bird as the first one powered over the blow and flew off to the far side of the lake. With the dogs on the downed rooster, we were happy to have connected with at least one of them and the long walk through the weather was not in vain.
With one in the bag, and the wind and rain now at our back on the return to the truck, the moment served as a reminder that hard work on any hunt is often worth it, and that for your efforts, sometimes you get a gift at just the right moment ... in our outdoors.