nearly the end of january and the roads cleared up enough for us to get out to our canyon
kaden backed the truck up and we loaded our gear
the sky was blue and cold and clear
the river white capped and wild
the red dog wanted to stand with his head pressed against the window until we got past where the round up is held in the fall
afraid hed miss something if he put his head down to rest for even a moment
at 16 years old
ginger slept on the piles of sleeping bags and blankets
conserving her strength
made it up and over the blue mtns and stopped at the river near to let the dogs stretch their legs and drink up
they sniffed at deer tracks and looked at the reflections in the icy water
we loaded up and made our way across the northern flanks of the mtns where chief joseph once lived
we drove past riffles and pools where i waded with my father
we flipped hoppers there in the late afternoons in the fall
toward dusk wed switch over to something grey.. a #16 adams usually worked
all the tall ridges where the hounds led me after grouse are still there
and my legs are still recovering
the little store where anya and i got supplies
is history now
we made our way to the place where the road turns to gravel
and the cattle run where they want
the cowboys whistle to their working dogs in a language i guess only cowboys and working dogs can really understand
people drive by and everybody waves
it is a nice notion
the recognition and a simple gesture
an acknowledgement of existence
i like that
we drove on til just about dark and found a side road to let the dogs get out again and blow out the carbon before the wolves came down after the deer on the hillsides
got to our spot and fired up the camp stove
made the hounds dinner and had some stew
we lucked out and found our favorite radio show on the shortwave sw1 and unrolled the sleeping bags
no snow up on the peaks and no coyote sign in the road like last year
maybe someone came out and got a bunch of them i wondered.
we drifted off to sleep me and the dogs
all snoring together
in the morning we realized that there had been a fire since last winter
all of the cover was gone (i couldnt see that driving in in the dark)
even the cacti were burned
no place for anything to hide
we made some grub on the camp stove because everything had frozen up solid
the only water that was not frozen was the gallon i had in the truck
the red dog seemed happy that id heat up their breakfast some
you didnt think i was going to make you start off your day with cold food did you? i asked asked red.
he and ginger waited patiently
besides, i said, if i dont do this right, you will never look like the dog on the dogfood can
we kept looking for someplace where there was cover and cheatgrass that was not all burned up and found a few spots
it is tough to hunt a spot like this
i decided to stop hunting spots where i needed more than 50 feet of rope to access when i turned 40
it was frustrating passing coves and swales that used to be prime bird spots
only to find them burned clean
the red dog asked what happened to our spots?
i said i am not sure boy, maybe a camp fire got loose or a car muffler sparked up some dry grass
ginger finally woke up for a moment and interjected, itll grow back boys, you better head south and hit the holy grounds she lowered her head and slept again almost instantly.
well boy, i said lets get out and take a walk and then well head on to the holy grounds
he nodded and we got out for a walk
this is big beautiful country
plenty of room for a guy and a couple dogs to take a walk
the red dog ripped and roared up and down the hillsides and looked like he somehow belonged there
his fiery color and attitude seemed to be a good match for a place like we were in
even old ginger got out and looked around some what you looking at ging? i said
she looked in a daze and sleepily said wow, this is just as i remember it
it has been a long time yeah i said
she nodded
soon we loaded up and headed about 3 hours south and decided to hole up in a motor inn
it was $54 and the dogs are allowed in the room
the dogs are not allowed on the bed at home
but this was not our home
i could tell it was considerably colder when i went out to let the dogs make water and by morning a hot cup of coffee was good
what wasnt covered in iced over crusted snow was covered in longspine cactus
a tough place for a dog to hunt
the red dog was all fired up so we got out and gave it a go
if you have ever hunted snow that has melted and refrozen each day and night for over a week, you know that it crusts over and becomes about like sandpaper for a dog to walk on
makes for a beautiful scene though
the red dog and i covered some good looking spots in the lee of the wind and with bare ground and soon he was in gear
we had birds up and over
birds on rt to left crosses
birds riding the wind and arcing low and fast down gullies
birds hit and falling
feathers and gunsmoke
aching legs and screaming lungs
sweat stinging my eyes
i fumbled for more shells with my mittens on
the red dog working on autopilot
ears ringing
we had more coveys up higher on the edges and they were educated
the bird season is over 3 months long out here
and any birds that survive to the last days have earned their place on the edges
birds flushed wild over a hundred yards out
they had been shot at before
they new it was bad news to see a man with a gun
and a red dog on fire at their front door
so they split
the sun was working on the ravine and the creek started to flow some
the red dog drank until i thought hed bust
i ate snow and that kept me hydrated
the red dog preferred to roll and slide in it
he tried to burrow into it with his nose
we walked close to the edge high up on the rim of it all
i looked down at the red dog and laughed and tried to catch my breath
kaden sit i said
he sat
i continued
you know, a dozen years back, i hiked all the way from the river and up over the hill youre sitting on
he wagged
i hunted up over the draw and down the back and killed my 8 birds with my old hound dogs , ginger was there, you can ask her.
then we hiked all the way back down to the river and camped out in the back of the truck when it was 7* outside.
he sat there and looked at me with a big dog smile
well, wed better get going then, because we have a lot of ground still to cover and i know that there are some birds out there for us he said
ok boy, follow your nose and ill do my best to keep up and shoot them down. i nodded.
he was working all of the spots that good dogs do
the soft golden grass thick where the ground stays wet in the late spring
the rocks and coves
the seams between hills that nobody but a dog and a bird hunter ever notice
he managed a half pack of mice in the mean time
this one was just stuffed and overflowing with new grass shoots
the red dog stopped and pawed at the ground and looked up with a funny look
what is it boy? i asked
i think it is a part of a deer he said
well it is kaden, it is a 4 point antler from a mule deer i laughed
can we get one of them? he asked
soon we were kicking up more birds
lots of them were so far away that i wondered if they even saw us, or if they were just moving on their own
the red dog lit up and quartered back into the wind and was nose down and trotting
his tail wagged so that i wondered if hed split right out of his own skin
the birds erupted from the hillside in nearly every direction
there must have been nearly 50 of them in a gigantic covey
i shot and managed to part a few feathers
the red dog ran to get them
hey these arent chukar said the red dog
nope, they are hungarian partridge i said
you sure fetched them up kaden, good boy i said
well, you knocked them down just like you promised he answered
we were exhausted after hunting and happy to get a few birds and a few days of adventure
On the way back I asked the hounds if they wanted to come back next year and all I got in response was snoring
kaden backed the truck up and we loaded our gear
the sky was blue and cold and clear
the river white capped and wild
the red dog wanted to stand with his head pressed against the window until we got past where the round up is held in the fall
afraid hed miss something if he put his head down to rest for even a moment
at 16 years old
ginger slept on the piles of sleeping bags and blankets
conserving her strength
made it up and over the blue mtns and stopped at the river near to let the dogs stretch their legs and drink up
they sniffed at deer tracks and looked at the reflections in the icy water
we loaded up and made our way across the northern flanks of the mtns where chief joseph once lived
we drove past riffles and pools where i waded with my father
we flipped hoppers there in the late afternoons in the fall
toward dusk wed switch over to something grey.. a #16 adams usually worked
all the tall ridges where the hounds led me after grouse are still there
and my legs are still recovering
the little store where anya and i got supplies
is history now
we made our way to the place where the road turns to gravel
and the cattle run where they want
the cowboys whistle to their working dogs in a language i guess only cowboys and working dogs can really understand
people drive by and everybody waves
it is a nice notion
the recognition and a simple gesture
an acknowledgement of existence
i like that
we drove on til just about dark and found a side road to let the dogs get out again and blow out the carbon before the wolves came down after the deer on the hillsides
got to our spot and fired up the camp stove
made the hounds dinner and had some stew
we lucked out and found our favorite radio show on the shortwave sw1 and unrolled the sleeping bags
no snow up on the peaks and no coyote sign in the road like last year
maybe someone came out and got a bunch of them i wondered.
we drifted off to sleep me and the dogs
all snoring together
in the morning we realized that there had been a fire since last winter
all of the cover was gone (i couldnt see that driving in in the dark)
even the cacti were burned
no place for anything to hide
we made some grub on the camp stove because everything had frozen up solid
the only water that was not frozen was the gallon i had in the truck
the red dog seemed happy that id heat up their breakfast some
you didnt think i was going to make you start off your day with cold food did you? i asked asked red.
he and ginger waited patiently
besides, i said, if i dont do this right, you will never look like the dog on the dogfood can
we kept looking for someplace where there was cover and cheatgrass that was not all burned up and found a few spots
it is tough to hunt a spot like this
i decided to stop hunting spots where i needed more than 50 feet of rope to access when i turned 40
it was frustrating passing coves and swales that used to be prime bird spots
only to find them burned clean
the red dog asked what happened to our spots?
i said i am not sure boy, maybe a camp fire got loose or a car muffler sparked up some dry grass
ginger finally woke up for a moment and interjected, itll grow back boys, you better head south and hit the holy grounds she lowered her head and slept again almost instantly.
well boy, i said lets get out and take a walk and then well head on to the holy grounds
he nodded and we got out for a walk
this is big beautiful country
plenty of room for a guy and a couple dogs to take a walk
the red dog ripped and roared up and down the hillsides and looked like he somehow belonged there
his fiery color and attitude seemed to be a good match for a place like we were in
even old ginger got out and looked around some what you looking at ging? i said
she looked in a daze and sleepily said wow, this is just as i remember it
it has been a long time yeah i said
she nodded
soon we loaded up and headed about 3 hours south and decided to hole up in a motor inn
it was $54 and the dogs are allowed in the room
the dogs are not allowed on the bed at home
but this was not our home
i could tell it was considerably colder when i went out to let the dogs make water and by morning a hot cup of coffee was good
what wasnt covered in iced over crusted snow was covered in longspine cactus
a tough place for a dog to hunt
the red dog was all fired up so we got out and gave it a go
if you have ever hunted snow that has melted and refrozen each day and night for over a week, you know that it crusts over and becomes about like sandpaper for a dog to walk on
makes for a beautiful scene though
the red dog and i covered some good looking spots in the lee of the wind and with bare ground and soon he was in gear
we had birds up and over
birds on rt to left crosses
birds riding the wind and arcing low and fast down gullies
birds hit and falling
feathers and gunsmoke
aching legs and screaming lungs
sweat stinging my eyes
i fumbled for more shells with my mittens on
the red dog working on autopilot
ears ringing
we had more coveys up higher on the edges and they were educated
the bird season is over 3 months long out here
and any birds that survive to the last days have earned their place on the edges
birds flushed wild over a hundred yards out
they had been shot at before
they new it was bad news to see a man with a gun
and a red dog on fire at their front door
so they split
the sun was working on the ravine and the creek started to flow some
the red dog drank until i thought hed bust
i ate snow and that kept me hydrated
the red dog preferred to roll and slide in it
he tried to burrow into it with his nose
we walked close to the edge high up on the rim of it all
i looked down at the red dog and laughed and tried to catch my breath
kaden sit i said
he sat
i continued
you know, a dozen years back, i hiked all the way from the river and up over the hill youre sitting on
he wagged
i hunted up over the draw and down the back and killed my 8 birds with my old hound dogs , ginger was there, you can ask her.
then we hiked all the way back down to the river and camped out in the back of the truck when it was 7* outside.
he sat there and looked at me with a big dog smile
well, wed better get going then, because we have a lot of ground still to cover and i know that there are some birds out there for us he said
ok boy, follow your nose and ill do my best to keep up and shoot them down. i nodded.
he was working all of the spots that good dogs do
the soft golden grass thick where the ground stays wet in the late spring
the rocks and coves
the seams between hills that nobody but a dog and a bird hunter ever notice
he managed a half pack of mice in the mean time
this one was just stuffed and overflowing with new grass shoots
the red dog stopped and pawed at the ground and looked up with a funny look
what is it boy? i asked
i think it is a part of a deer he said
well it is kaden, it is a 4 point antler from a mule deer i laughed
can we get one of them? he asked
soon we were kicking up more birds
lots of them were so far away that i wondered if they even saw us, or if they were just moving on their own
the red dog lit up and quartered back into the wind and was nose down and trotting
his tail wagged so that i wondered if hed split right out of his own skin
the birds erupted from the hillside in nearly every direction
there must have been nearly 50 of them in a gigantic covey
i shot and managed to part a few feathers
the red dog ran to get them
hey these arent chukar said the red dog
nope, they are hungarian partridge i said
you sure fetched them up kaden, good boy i said
well, you knocked them down just like you promised he answered
we were exhausted after hunting and happy to get a few birds and a few days of adventure
On the way back I asked the hounds if they wanted to come back next year and all I got in response was snoring
