My two sons and I took our first trip to South Dakota over the past 4 days. We had the time of our lives, and also learned a lot.
We pulled into a WPA ,in the southeast portion of the state, with about 3 hours before sunset. The 3 of us had a plan to hunt in a V formation and push toward a cut corn field. The dogs (we had 2 of our 4 brits on the ground) had other ideas though and soon got birdy and we zig zagged after them. That strategy ended up better anyway. Soon after we got our first point. A hen got up, so no shot, but I asked my 14 year old, what he thought. Exhilatng he said.
That day would be only hens. When we got back to the hotel in Mitchell, we talked to some other hunters. They said they they just got back from hunting west of Mitchell and didn't have any luck. With that in mind, we went back east. Again we decided to try a WPA. We had just turned off the paved road when a rooster flew in front of us and landed about 30 feet away in cut corn. It was 9:00 am so no dice, but it was a harbinger of things to come.
Once 10 o'clock hit, we headed into the field. It wouldn't take long. The first rooster got up after my son walked past him. He stuck tight in the ditch and let my boy walk 5 feet from him. Then flew out the other direction. I shot twice and nothing. I'm blaming it on steel shot. We walked another 50 yards, turned a corner, edged a cut corn field and the same thing (minus the ditch) happened again, including the miss. I'm blaming it on steel. While our backs are turned, 2 other roosters flew away. Now I think we've hit the mother load.
The next 3 hours, proved me wrong. We walked, kicked cover and cussed cut cornfields, but nothing. Then we stood above a cattailled dried up pond. Too thick I said, but the dogs didn't listen. 3 hens later we were suddenly motived to bust cattails. Out comes 2 roosters, but they were spooky and got out way ahead of us. We pounded those cattails in a grid like fashion until we'd combed every inch. About 20 feet from our last strech I hear my son shoot. I turnned and a rooster drops. We trudge our way toward where it went down, yelling "dead in here". We searched with the dogs for an hour, but didn't even find a feather. We've got to switch to Bismuth.
Exhausted and dissapointed on not finding the bird, we started dragging ourselves back to the truck. That's when Tanner, my star male, veers off the road, into more cattails and locks up on point. Exhausted and hen weary, I half heartedly walk in, flush a rooster and bang. Dropped him clean. My first wild rooster. I love steel shot.
With renewed energy, we hunted another couple hours, and flushed about another 5 birds with 2 being roosters, but it just didn't break right.
The next day we stubbornly headed south west of Mtchell. I had a place I circled on the map and I was headed for it, bad reports or not. After 4 hours with only one hen flushed, we started driving back east. We were rewarded. As soon we stepped out of the truck a hen flew off. After gearing up and taking another 3 steps, another hen flys up. Now we are on high alert again. We make a plan to ring our new favorite type of cover, a dried up pond. Dexter, a young up and comer goes on point. We flush a rooster and miss on 6 shots. I'm back to hating steel. 150 yards later, and another point. My youngest drops his first ever rooster. Hi fives, smiles and pictures, then on we go. We got a few more birds up, but it was getting late and tomorrow was our last day. Back to Mitchell.
Our last day and we are up and off early, home to Missouri. But not without stopping in the southeast corner of the state. It was windy and everything is a struggle in the wind. When the dog went on point, I got the boys attention, but barely. The cover he was on point in made me think of quail hunting in Missouri. I told the boys, it's legal to take quail in South Dakota, but they are very rare. I walk in and flush an 8 bird covey. We were so surprised no one shot. My youngest thought he saw where they landed and we headed that way. On our way the dogs got birdy and jumped into the cattails. Out came 2 roosters and 3 hens. With 6 shots we got nothing.
After pounding the area for another couple hours, we drove on to our last stop. We walked it for an hour. With the wind and cover busting, forcing exhaustion, we headed for the truck. About 50 yards out, a rooster flew up right by the truck. It's flairing tail made it look like a phoenix. That was our last bird encountered, and we drove home with that in picture in our memories.
The lessons?
I love South Dakota
I like WPAs
I have a complicated relationship with steel shot.
We pulled into a WPA ,in the southeast portion of the state, with about 3 hours before sunset. The 3 of us had a plan to hunt in a V formation and push toward a cut corn field. The dogs (we had 2 of our 4 brits on the ground) had other ideas though and soon got birdy and we zig zagged after them. That strategy ended up better anyway. Soon after we got our first point. A hen got up, so no shot, but I asked my 14 year old, what he thought. Exhilatng he said.
That day would be only hens. When we got back to the hotel in Mitchell, we talked to some other hunters. They said they they just got back from hunting west of Mitchell and didn't have any luck. With that in mind, we went back east. Again we decided to try a WPA. We had just turned off the paved road when a rooster flew in front of us and landed about 30 feet away in cut corn. It was 9:00 am so no dice, but it was a harbinger of things to come.
Once 10 o'clock hit, we headed into the field. It wouldn't take long. The first rooster got up after my son walked past him. He stuck tight in the ditch and let my boy walk 5 feet from him. Then flew out the other direction. I shot twice and nothing. I'm blaming it on steel shot. We walked another 50 yards, turned a corner, edged a cut corn field and the same thing (minus the ditch) happened again, including the miss. I'm blaming it on steel. While our backs are turned, 2 other roosters flew away. Now I think we've hit the mother load.
The next 3 hours, proved me wrong. We walked, kicked cover and cussed cut cornfields, but nothing. Then we stood above a cattailled dried up pond. Too thick I said, but the dogs didn't listen. 3 hens later we were suddenly motived to bust cattails. Out comes 2 roosters, but they were spooky and got out way ahead of us. We pounded those cattails in a grid like fashion until we'd combed every inch. About 20 feet from our last strech I hear my son shoot. I turnned and a rooster drops. We trudge our way toward where it went down, yelling "dead in here". We searched with the dogs for an hour, but didn't even find a feather. We've got to switch to Bismuth.
Exhausted and dissapointed on not finding the bird, we started dragging ourselves back to the truck. That's when Tanner, my star male, veers off the road, into more cattails and locks up on point. Exhausted and hen weary, I half heartedly walk in, flush a rooster and bang. Dropped him clean. My first wild rooster. I love steel shot.
With renewed energy, we hunted another couple hours, and flushed about another 5 birds with 2 being roosters, but it just didn't break right.
The next day we stubbornly headed south west of Mtchell. I had a place I circled on the map and I was headed for it, bad reports or not. After 4 hours with only one hen flushed, we started driving back east. We were rewarded. As soon we stepped out of the truck a hen flew off. After gearing up and taking another 3 steps, another hen flys up. Now we are on high alert again. We make a plan to ring our new favorite type of cover, a dried up pond. Dexter, a young up and comer goes on point. We flush a rooster and miss on 6 shots. I'm back to hating steel. 150 yards later, and another point. My youngest drops his first ever rooster. Hi fives, smiles and pictures, then on we go. We got a few more birds up, but it was getting late and tomorrow was our last day. Back to Mitchell.
Our last day and we are up and off early, home to Missouri. But not without stopping in the southeast corner of the state. It was windy and everything is a struggle in the wind. When the dog went on point, I got the boys attention, but barely. The cover he was on point in made me think of quail hunting in Missouri. I told the boys, it's legal to take quail in South Dakota, but they are very rare. I walk in and flush an 8 bird covey. We were so surprised no one shot. My youngest thought he saw where they landed and we headed that way. On our way the dogs got birdy and jumped into the cattails. Out came 2 roosters and 3 hens. With 6 shots we got nothing.
After pounding the area for another couple hours, we drove on to our last stop. We walked it for an hour. With the wind and cover busting, forcing exhaustion, we headed for the truck. About 50 yards out, a rooster flew up right by the truck. It's flairing tail made it look like a phoenix. That was our last bird encountered, and we drove home with that in picture in our memories.
The lessons?
I love South Dakota
I like WPAs
I have a complicated relationship with steel shot.
