The Pack of 2013

We are excited that this year we have 4 adult, experienced bird dogs plus 2 pups heading into the bird hunting season. That may seem like a lot but given that we usually run 3 at a time and we will likely hunt 100+ days this year we think it sounds about right. We will rotate 'teams' according to cover as well as how each dog has been hunting.

Jack is 4 now, making his 5th trip to MT. While we are up there he is also going to run in a wild bird EB trial for the fun of it.


Dee is 2-1/2 and glad to be back on the full time roster. He continues to have occasional issues with the regrown foot pad from his HBC accident last year so we have dog boots on hand if needed to keep the boy running. He is embarrassed by the bling (they don't really have lights, that's a reflection from the camera flash).



Tweed was spayed this summer so she will be able to have an uninterrupted season this year. Last year she figured out the moves that old, sneaky roosters pull and promises revenge this year.



Storm is 3 now, given how well she did last year as a novice to the prairie we are really looking forward to see what she does this year.


Seth and Sally are the 2 pups we kept from Tweeds 2/13 litter. They are almost 7 months old and we can't wait to get them into birds. We plan to hunt them all season and then will be keeping one of these 2.
Sally


Seth



And we can't forget the Back Seat Drivers, Patch and Worf, both 14.


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The lost post: SOB Gobbler

I owe Mike an apology. I had not written a blog post in quite awhile and the other day when I opened the BlogPress app I discovered that I had left the following post that Mike had written sitting there as a draft, somehow I had messed up and had not published it. So the following is out of order, it obviously should have been published some time ago but I know you will enjoy it regardless.



The SOB Gobbler

One evening as Lynn Dee and I were sitting out on the patio relaxing we could see a gobbler all fanned out just down the draw from the house. He and a couple of hens were about 200 yards off. It was mid May and spring turkey season ended in 2 weeks. I had already shot one Tom and had been hunting frequently trying for number two. It had been a grand season, waking with the wild life in the country. So, I decided to try for this Tom the next morning.

Like usual, the turkeys were already gobbling by the time I was walking down the road from the house to get set up. I was all set up with a couple “working girl" decoys out front. There were gobbles all around including one from where we saw the gobbler the evening before. That Tom was answering me when from across the corn field I heard another bird get off the roost. The Tom down the hill kept answering, as has happened all season, but would not come over. Then I saw a bird sneaking through the corn field and peeking at me about 100 yards out. He vanished behind a terrace, only to reappear at the end of the field out of range. He looked my “girls” over but walked off to not be seen or heard again until the next morning. The next morning about 5:30, I was awakened by a gobbler gobbling just down the hill from the house. That SOB, I said out loud. I came home from work that day and once again he was gobbling his butt off just up the draw. That SOB. It may come down to me actually getting up early for that SOB. We will see.

Second try for the SOB gobbler. I had a perfect setup; Hen and Jake decoy set just inside a planted corn field. I am hiding under a mulberry tree in the fence line. I thought that Tom would be roosted about 100 yards away at the end of the corn field. But, no..... that SOB is roosted in a dead cottonwood behind me in a pasture. He gobbles on the roost a couple times answering my call and I hear him gobble on the ground coming my way. I look over my right shoulder and see him at about 75 yards away. He is fanning and gobbling softly every time I call. He moves my way, directly to me. But about 50 yards out he sees the decoys and veers away behind me just like he did before. The SOB is decoy shy. I call a few more times and nothing. There is an early morning thunderstorm moving in so I am ready to call it a morning but when I get up I can see that about 300 yards away over a terrace in the corn field the SOB is all fanned out with two other lesser Toms and a bunch of Jakes. I call a few times and they continue to strut around, but moving away across the corn field. I have to wait for them to get far enough away before I can move. It just starts sprinkling when I walk into the garage. And I turn around and I can see the dead cottonwood from the drive way. You SOB.


Third try. So far, this bird has kicked my butt. I even thought about giving up and throwing the towel in on the SOB. But, the evening after my second encounter, Lynn Dee and I are relaxing on the patio again and there he comes out about 300 yards away all fanned out courting a hen. He follows the hen off up the draw, gobbling the whole time. That SOB. So it is mano-a-mano tomorrow morning, no decoys. My tactic that I employ on the third encounter is to go around where he usually roosts with his entourage and try to cut him off as he and his buddies wander away.

There is a bright full moon as I leave for the hunt, giving me a moon shadow. This concerns me as I need to cross an open field to where I want to set up and I am afraid that the roosted birds might see me walking in, but I stay on course and get set up around 5:15 am. It starts to get light, but no gobbling. Did the turkeys see me walking in? No… I hear a gobble just down the field and into the timber. I call a couple times, and nothing. I call a couple more times with my slate call and nothing. Then I hear the SOB gobble and it sounds like he is on the ground and walking away. Shit, he must have seen me walking in, in the moon light. As I wait patiently, I see a couple jakes coming out of the timber across the field about 200 yards away. Then a few more jakes, I think 5 altogether. I give up on the slate call and go back to the mouth call that I have used on the previous two encounters. And lo and behold, I get a gobble across the field where the jakes come out.

Out of the shadows come the three kings. Well, one SOB and a couple lesser SOBs. The SOB is all fanned out strutting around like he is king. I call with the mouth call again and he does his quiet gobble and struts around, not coming my way. I am trying to be really patient and not over call, but I want that SOB. Slowly, the jakes leading the way start moving toward me. In the middle of the field, about half way between the birds and me is a grass water way that the birds will need to cross to get close enough for a shot. I call a few more times and he fans and struts, the other two mature birds and jakes are just watching the king put on a show. It was a good show, but I need him to continue to come another 50 yards and cross the water way, and then some. I call again and I notice that the jakes have started to cross the water way and the mature birds are starting to follow. I continue to call and he continues to move closer, looking for me. He crosses and is straight out into field from me and it appears that he may just keep on going by me like he had the previous two encounters. I take the shot.








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It's almost time!

The blog has been very quiet, I apologize for that. And things are about to change a lot!

We have been nice and busy this summer. Mike took a summer position with Kansas Wildlife and Parks doing habitat management at a 10,000 acre wildlife management area here in our end of the state. It has been hard work but he says, " how many jobs would allow you to hear quail calling all day?! ". His rich knowledge of Kansas flora and fauna has been enhanced by working closely with several biologists and lots of wildlife encounters. Including crossing paths a couple of times with a rattlesnake species that had not previously been seen in the area. The biologists were much more excited about that sighting than I was.


I have been getting settled into our home and the area, discovering how simple it is where people give directions such as 'go north 3 miles, then west 2" instead of Vermont's "turn left where the old red barn used to be then right after the big hill." I bought a bike to explore the endless miles of quiet dirt roads around us and have watched as the corn has grown taller than me. We have had a nice amount of rain this summer, ending the drought of last year and filling up our pond which was at a record low level. The temperatures have been much more pleasant than I had feared. I love the beautiful sunrises and sunsets and how they cast amazing colors onto the pond and the many flowers in the gardens left by the previous owner.






But we are feeling energized because in only 13 days we will be loading up dogs and guns, hooking up the Open Range and pulling out. Although we had considered hunting Idaho this year, conditions in Montana are reported to be too good to pass up. The scheduling of a French Brittany breed club event in central MT at the beginning of Sept decided it for us. Our plans are to stop in both South and North Dakota on the way to MT to renew friendships and let the dogs stretch their legs as we all get used to living on the road again. We are thinking that we will spend September and October in Montana and return home in time for the Kansas season opener on November 9. Let the season begin!




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Traditions Cross the Miles

One of the many things that I loved about my old farm in Vermont was the hillside of lilacs that every spring filled the air with their heavenly fragrance. I would cut armfuls of them to bring into the house to enjoy the scent and I thought I would miss that once I moved. Turns out though that woman from whom we bought this house here in Kansas was an avid gardener and to my delight there are several lilacs scattered around the yard. In addition to traditional lavender there are also white and dark purple. So my tradition continues.


There are numerous flowering trees, shrubs, roses and flowers here at the house. Some, like the many Redbuds, are familiar to others but new to this New Englander. There are Rose of Sharon, crab apples, cherry trees and some that I do not know what they are. We plan to build a new deck or patio but want to wait and learn more about the many flowers and plants around the small brick patio that is there now. Neither of us has done much flower gardening so for now its a guessing game as we sit and enjoy the peaceful view.















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Burn, baby, burn

Conditions were right yesterday so Mike finally got to burn the field grasses like he has been wanting ever since we bought this place. Burning fields is a common habitat management practice that keeps woody vegetation (trees, brush) from taking over grasslands. Burning will also inhibit the growth of brome grass and stimulate native grasses. The grasses around our house are a mix of brome and native prairie grasses. Brome is a non-native grass that is grown for cattle but is detrimental to game birds because it is too thick, the baby chicks cannot run through it to escape from predators. Native grasses grow in bunches, or clumps, which leaves soil exposed for the birds.

These are native prairie grasses.



In the 3 weeks since moving here we have had rain several times and even some snow so the drought conditions are over, things are not tinderbox dry. The wind was light and in a direction that would push the fire toward the natural firebreak of the driveway, the road and the adjacent corn field. Mike mowed some firebreak paths around the dog fencing (he worked too hard building that fence to let it burn!). With a bic lighter he lit fires in the downwind areas, knowing that the fire would spread in a controlled manner against the wind.



It worked beautifully. The fire spread slowly and thoroughly across the whole target area. The couple of times that it started the wrong direction it was easily snuffed with a shovel. Smoke billowed and blew down the road. The Kickapoo reservation police saw the smoke and paid a visit just to make sure it was an intentional burn and complimented Mike for his good timing, saying that they were late getting their own burning done. By dark the fire had burned out. It will be interesting to watch the regrowth with the improved habitat for the birds.


















It was interesting to watch as several birds of prey began to swoop over the field in search of rodents that may have been pushed out of the grass by the fire.





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Lovin' it

It has been a wicked busy week since arriving at the new house here in Kansas but I thought I would share an update. Unpacking countless boxes, setting up kennels, dealing with Storm in heat driving the boys crazy, and having our first houseguest already, all made the time fly by. A new friend from Montana came down to pick up his puppy and he and Mike had a great weekend of turkey hunting, getting 3 gobblers despite the fact that they had never even scouted the area. Mike simply looked at satellite views of the walk-in areas near us and they went to the one that looked best. I would post a pic of them but my memory card went berserk and lost those pics. :-(

This morning we took 4 dogs for a walk and I took a few pics of the area to share.

This is our road, about a mile long. The light portion in the distance is near the house but the rest of it is a mud (unmaintained) road so there is no traffic and we can just walk down it and let the dogs run the edges of the fields.



Across the road from our drive is this pond. Lots of geese pass through here.




On our walk Jack pointed a covey of quail and Storm and Dee backed. It has been a cold spring here and the birds have not yet paired up to breed so we let the dogs run.




In this pic it was a pheasant. Storm and Dee pointed it and Tweed and Jack backed.




A running pheasant this time.





Good cover is all around us.









We are loving it!






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And we're off!

We're headed west! We watched the weather forecast and as soon as freezing temps were predicted we set our moving date for packing yesterday and pulling out early this morning before the thaw softened the driveway down to the cabin back to mud. We were very appreciative that Andrea's whole family came yesterday and helped to load the truck. By the time the tailgate was finally pulled down (yes, just barely able to close), we were all exhausted and said sad goodbyes.

So this morning our little caravan pulled out. Mike is driving the F250 with 7 dogs and pulling the Open Range. I follow, driving the 26' Penske truck pulling the Miata on a carrier. In a crate on the seat next to me are 5 of the 8 week old Tweed babies. We will drop to 4 pups when we connect with one puppy owner in the Mass. Berkshires today and then down to 3 tomorrow as we exit New York and hand off the stud dog owners' puppy to him. Once we arrive at the house in Kansas we drop to just our 2 pups as the last owner drives down from Montana.

We are planning to split the 25 hour drive into 3 days, arriving at the house on Friday evening. So if you happen to be at a highway travel plaza between Maine and Kansas this week and see someone walking a whole mess of bird dogs, stop by and say hello!











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