First Time Kansas Trip Report

[ctfisher]

Post 1 of 2

Some of you may have seen the thread I started "Pressure?" a few months back asking about week 1 of KS season versus week 2. Well, my father and I ended up going week 2 with my 1.75yr old Vizsla. Pardon the delay in getting this out, as I usually hop on here during slow times at the office... haven't had many of those times since I returned with the vacation and holiday catch up work. Pardon the length!

Here's how it went:

Day 1: Beginner's Luck

We arrived to our temporary home (a somewhat neglected looking Days Inn) about noon on Nov 17. Checked in the room, changed into our hunting clothes, ate a sandwich and hit the road. Arrived at a WA and hunted one of the spots I e-scouted, which turned out to be a winter wheat field with good grass around the perimeter of it. Was just a starting point as it was the closest pin to the hotel. The grass looked like it would hold birds to me (an ignorant Southerner), at least. We made it about 3/4 of the way around the perimeter of this field when Fred (my dog) stopped right on the edge of the tall stuff and some shorter thinner grass. The short stuff looked like it was possibly a dove field a couple months ago - had what appeared to be oats all over the ground and the grass was shin high +/-. There was a short scrubby tree right on this edge of the short/tall grass, and about one full second after he came to a stop near that tree (not sure if he pointed, or if it was just coincidence that he stopped right there - my eyes were elsewhere), about 12 bobwhites erupted from the base of that tree. I quickly yelled "quail" to draw my dad's attention, shouldered my gun, and folded two on two shots. They fell in the tall stuff and Fred was on top of one of them immediately. We never found #2, thought we had a good mark but evidently didn’t. We uneventfully finished the walk around the perimeter of that field, with a couple detours into the creek bottom alongside it. Got back to the truck and we headed deeper into the WA, where we discovered a corn field along a creek with several rows on the edge left standing. We figured we had enough time to walk it before sunset. Glad we did, as again about 3/4 of the way around the perimeter of the field a rooster got up and presented a crossing shot. I hit him, but didn't fold him, and my old man sent one after him as well. The bird went down with locked wings in the standing corn and didn't move an inch. Fred was again right behind him and made a great retrieve. I was stoked to say the least, and said out loud that the whole trip up there was worth it just for that moment. The bird got up from behind some big bluestem that was taller than my head, which Fred was behind, so I again can’t be sure if he scented him or the bird just happened to get up wild. As we enjoyed taking a couple pictures at the truck after finishing out the walk, I knew deep down that this afternoon hunt was way too easy...

Day 2: The Rain

It rained all day with a lull around 1PM, and then again about 4. We walked a river slough along a alfalfa field clear on the other side of the WA which produced a big doe bedded in the cattails, and that was it.

Day 3: Reality Check

We parked at the same corn field where we killed the rooster on day 1. To my surprise, as we geared up outside the truck, I just happened to look up and see the silhouettes of 4 pheasants (2 roosters it looked like) landing on the top of the ridge across the road from us, maybe 200 yards away. It was a beautiful scene. I heard more cackling off in a different direction. We quickly headed that way and started walking up the ridge trying to stay quiet and low, but the birds got up when we were still about 70 yards out. We didn’t pull the trigger. It ended up being 8 or 9 of them, with what looked like 4 roosters. All but one flew further up the hill and crossed the road back to the side we parked on, headed into a drainage. A single rooster flushed a few seconds later than the rest and went straight away from us. I drew down on him but second guessed the distance and didn’t shoot. I later wished I had. We chased him briefly, but to no avail. Circled back to go after the ones in the ravine. Being that my dad is 69, he can’t move as swiftly as me in my 27 y.o. prime, so I dove down into the thick stuff with Fred and let my dad walk the spine of the ridge so he would have a shot as the birds came out. As I was bushwhacking my way thru some God awful stuff I don’t know the name of, short scrubby tree/bushes with no leaves on them, a single shot rang out up the hill. I stopped and listened – though to myself ‘well, one shot…that’s usually good… usually means he didn’t need a followup. He must’ve gotten one!’. I scurried back up the hill and located my dad, not holding a pheasant. Said a rooster jumped up out of a bush about 10 yards from him and it flew straight down into the draw… he shot, knocked feathers off of it, and…click. Jammed on the followup as the bird flew away. We finished pushing that draw downhill to the cornfield where we were parked with no more action. Stopped at the truck for a quick snack and drink. I pulled out some binoculars and looked across this big flat bottom where the corn field and several other ag fields were. As I scanned a grown up ditch between two green fields, I just happened to spot a rooster landing on the far side of it. This is probably easily 400 yards away and was pure luck that I caught him flying. So off we went to walk that ditch down, hang a right and walk the edge of the field back to the truck. We get to the point of the ditch near where the birds would be, and right on time, a rooster comes up on my side. He kind of surprised me, and at about 40 yards I whiffed on the first shot, and then missed the straight away followup shots too…. As soon as my action stuck open, the second rooster flushed from the same spot and flew away, unscathed, as I fumbled to get another shell in the gun… I was dejected. We finished that drive around the field edge flushing a hen, and a covey of quail, of which I dropped a single. The rest of the day we walked, and we walked, and we walked some more. The final nail in our coffin was about 150 yards from the truck, walking a stand of bluestem along the edge of the cornfield where we got the rooster day 1. My dear old man assumed that since we were close to the truck, and hadnt had any action, that this walk was probably over. He slung his gun on his shoulder…. just before a rooster flushed behind me (didn’t even know he got up) and 20 yards from pops. He got the gun off his shoulder for two hail mary shots that never had a chance. I was again, dejected.

 

[ctfisher]

Part 2 of 2

Day 4: The Wind

Hence the title, it was whipping that morning, 20-25mph. We had hunted hard from 645AM – 245PM the day prior. We were tired, the dog was tired and rubbed raw from the grass, we were discouraged about our shooting skills. As I was getting suited up outside the truck, I heard a rooster cackling not all that far off. There was a sunflower field across a creek that ended up being where he was hanging, and he flushed while out of range for my dad, and crossed to the other side of a big creek. Made a mental note as he went down right by a small tree in a mass of bluestem. As we were headed in his direction, we did find a covey of quail along the side of the sunflowers. A single flushed, again right as my pup had turned and come to a stop – not sure if he even smelled it to be honest – and I missed him twice. 4 more flushed as he charged off in the direction of my gunshots looking for a downed bird. I couldn’t get on one for a shot. We kept moving and about a minute later Fred nicely pointed another single quail, which I again missed, 2x… here we go again, I thought. Those things were missiles in the wind. That ended up being all the action we had that morning after trying to relocate the rooster that evaded us for another hour or so. We moved to another region of the WA and encountered a truck at the parking spot, guy said he had a deer hunter out in the area. We kindly turned around and went on our way wondering if he was being honest with us, or just wanted to have the area to himself. He was in full camo which wouldn’t make sense for a bird hunter. There were two pieces of WIHA in the same area that bordered the WA along a river bottom. We decided to walk one that had a nice windrow along the property line. Thankful we did, as we got another covey of quail up out of that windrow. I got one and so did pops. The dog did a great job finding both of them once we downed them. It was almost lunchtime by then, and we resolved to head back to our hotel for lunch and a little rest. That night before sunset, we headed to another piece of WIHA off the main paved road that we had passed several times – a cut sorghum field with two draws – one on each side of the property and the field on high ground in between them. Had some knee high grass in the back corner as well. The walk of both draws only yielded a nice shed antler, and a couple rabbits the size of housecats. That was all she wrote for the day.

Day 5: One Last Chance

We were slated to head home (at least part of the way – 6h45m back to Alma AR), but given the trouble putting birds in the bag, we hunted a couple hours before checking out and hitting the road. I desperately needed redemption for the misses from Tuesday’s hunt. We had to head home with more than one ringneck in the bag. We parked at the same spot as we did the day before, and I again heard a rooster off in the same sunflower field at daylight. I heard some others a ways off in a area we hadn’t touched yet, and filed that away. Didn’t have a great bead on them due to the distance. My dad and I had decided that Fred (who was acting puiny, tired, and was rubbed raw all over) may need to sit this last one out. We were afraid we had overdone it on the poor dog. Well that didn’t happen – he nearly had a coronary when we exited the truck. He was just as enthusiastic and excited as the first day and hunted hard for us, which made me feel good about his condition. We figured he would sleep all the way home (he did). We chased that closest bird in the sunflower field and never got him up. Circled back by the truck, and headed down the road on foot to the edge of the reservoir and a corn field on its edge. There was a wide strip by a boat ramp that was where we started. It was probably 80 yards wide and I tried to weave back and forth and get Fred to cover as much ground as possible to avoid any birds getting past us. My spidey senses were tingling; I had the safety off, expecting a bird to come up at any moment. And one did. A gorgeous rooster came out of the grass almost directly to my left, in between me and the water. Even though I was ‘ready’ he still startled me with his cackle when he rose out of the grass. I threw the gun up to get a shot off as fast as possible. I rushed it… didn’t get down on the gun… panicked… something went wrong again. I whiffed the first shot at 25 yards, and by the time I got on him for shots 2 and 3, he was headed away across the river. Neither shot landed. I was furious with myself. As soon as I missed the third shot, I let the gun down to my waist and dropped it gently into the grass at my feet, threw my gloves off like a hockey player preparing for a brawl, and just watched him glide away in disgust. Naturally, Fred went busting through the grass in the direction of the shots, looking for a downed bird that wasn’t there. Mere seconds after my gun hit the ground, I stood there slack jawed with my meat in my hand, another rooster rose and flew across the lake, no shot from my dad as I was between him and the bird. No shot from me because my flippin’ gun was on the ground, empty. I snatched it up angrily and reloaded as Fred tore thru the grass here and there, flushing 4 hens in the same little area between me and the water. My dad and I had a short debrief. We finished the walk around the field edge (moved one more hen) and then looped back up the same ditch where I missed a double on Tuesday which put us at the truck. I replayed the misses in my head the whole way. We packed the truck up and headed out, thankful for the opportunities we had and the time together. But it only left me wanting more. I’ll be back. If even just for a day or two on my way to South Dakota. Somewhere with more birds than Kansas. I need more shot opportunities, so the misses don’t count so much!


All in all, I was impressed with the number of birds in Kansas. It was hard hunting but that's the kind I like. It reminded me of turkey hunting on public, in that you have to put in a lot of work for the opportunities you get. There were definitely more quail than I anticipated, which was cool to me and my dad, we know all too well how far gone they are here at home in GA. I wished we had more time to head further west and hunt some better pheasant ground, but we weren't leaving birds to find birds. I got bit by the bug and I cannot wait to go back again using what I learned to put more birds in the bag. I think I’ll shoot some clays before leaving home, too….

 

[M. R. Byrd]

Thanks for the story. Glad you came to Kansas and enjoyed the hunt. Fred is a good looking dog and sounds to be just as good in the field. Come back again.

 

[matto]

I'd say that's a pretty good result for your first trip. Congratulations.

Stay ready until you're standing on the road by the truck. That's a lesson pheasants will teach you every year until you learn it for good. Also, walk all the way to the corner.

I've had the same experiences with empty guns. Just last saturday one got up that I killed. I opened the gun (sxs), took about three steps towards the downed bird while fumbling in my pocket for a new shell, and then another rooster flushes to offer an even easier shot than the one I had just made. Can't just snap the gun closed and shoot, because the trigger resets to the right barrel, which is still empty. The barrel selector is at the top of the trigger blade. I've never practiced switching barrels manually under time pressure, and I'm wearing gloves. Nothing to do but watch. But I can always take a little pleasure from being "classier" than all those guys with pumps and semi-autos (KIDDING!)

 

[Kansan]

Great write up! Thanks for coming and enjoying our state. Don’t beat yourself up too much about the shooting. It sounds like y’all had a fun time afield!

 

[Carguy2Banker]

I'd say that's a pretty good result for your first trip. Congratulations.

Stay ready until you're standing on the road by the truck. That's a lesson pheasants will teach you every year until you learn it for good. Also, walk all the way to the corner.

I've had the same experiences with empty guns. Just last saturday one got up that I killed. I opened the gun (sxs), took about three steps towards the downed bird while fumbling in my pocket for a new shell, and then another rooster flushes to offer an even easier shot than the one I had just made. Can't just snap the gun closed and shoot, because the trigger resets to the right barrel, which is still empty. The barrel selector is at the top of the trigger blade. I've never practiced switching barrels manually under time pressure, and I'm wearing gloves. Nothing to do but watch. But I can always take a little pleasure from being "classier" than all those guys with pumps and semi-autos (KIDDING!)

Five of us were finishing up a spot a couple of weeks ago when my dog got really "birdy". When she gets this way it's not if, it's when the bird will flush. We were in very thin grass and I thought there was no way there was a bird in front of us. She zigged and zagged across three of us on the south end of our line and then started working behind us. Sure enough, a rooster had double backed us and flushed 30 yd behind us. No shots fired.
Standing there in disbelief as she returned to me and immediately got "birdy" again, this time moving to my left. I am assuming that it is probably the same bird that she was working that got away. At this point, we are only 15 yd from a fence along a ditch next to the county road. In the northwest corner of this grass where an old gate is there was a small 15-ft diameter patch of heavier weeds, but still not dense. She locked up on point in the middle of this patch of weeds. Three of us closed in on her and were standing there wandering what on earth she was pointing. We knew there was no way it was a pheasant. The three of us were less than 20 ft from her and the seriously talking amongst ourselves about who was going to go in there and joked it was probably a skunk. At least 30 seconds ago by, the other two hunters had already crossed the fence and we're walking down the county road towards us, when a sneaky rooster flushes. All five of us had guns in our hands. The two on the road dropped to the ground out of reflex upon the flush and the other three of us each fired two shots.... The only thing I saw come off of that bird was his poop upon his flush. My poor dog hit the fence ready to retrieve and scraped herself up pretty good. I had to spend the next week doctoring her wounds thinking about that missed opportunity because we did not trust that there was a bird in that little spot. The lesson here, always finish walking to the end, and stop and have your gun ready at all times!

 

[M. R. Byrd]

We stop about 30 yards from the end of the field and wait for a minute or so. This has resulted in many flushes of nervous pheasants. Before we started doing that many times the birds would sit tight near the end of the field only to flush behind us as we exited.

 

[ctfisher]

Appreciate the responses, folks. Thanks for reading, I know it was lengthy.

 

[KSBrittman]

Always trust the dog !!!