Well, we're home . . . back much earlier than expected.
"Deacon", my friend's dog, cut up his mouth/tongue about 5 minutes into the first field. We had to kennel him as he bled like a stuck pig when running. This picture doesn't capture how bloody he actually was.
So, nearly 2 hours from home, with plans to hunt big block blue stem, we've only two guys and one dog. Conditions, as a few of you mentioned above, were very dry. The wind was much stronger than down here too. I'd guess gusts to 20 mph.
First field, we walk edges only and see zero birds. Gunner did get birdy a few times but we didn't get anything to flush.
Second field -- a small one -- we walk edges in about 10 minutes and see zero birds.
Third (and last) field, we spend about 45 minutes walking. Gunner points a group of hens on the north edge (they were hiding from the wind) about 15 minutes in. Three get up. Then three more. Then one more. Seven together right there. No roosters.
We push back south and another hen gets up. Then Gunner goes on point, I step in, up goes another hen . . . or was it a young rooster? I couldn't tell, and therefore didn't pull the trigger.
Another point, another hen. Sitting tight in really, really thick grass. D-i-f-f-i-c-u-l-t walking, and I'm used to running 50+ miles a week.
Another hen off point on the south edge.
We decide to walk at a NW angle back towards the truck, through some foxtail. Nice looking grass. Gunner gets birdy, I follow him in, and a rooster flushes on the other side of me. He must have run behind me and flushed once he saw my buddy. Both of us elected not to pull the trigger as it would have been a longer shot, with high probability of only wounding the bird.
We push on, and another old rooster, flushes wild to the right of my buddy. He said he thought he heard it running through the grass, followed, and up he went. No trigger pull.
Nearly back to the truck now and Gunner locks up on the north edge. I step in, stomp, stomp, spin around, and the last hen flushes.
12 hens, 3 roosters, 0 shots, 0 bagged. The first time I can ever recall the two of us coming home with 0 birds. This said, I was pleased with the numbers of birds seen in the last field.
Decided we better head home, take care of Deacon, and get a bit of rest before the kids get out of school. The couch feels good, really good, right now.
Deer hunting this weekend . . .