Chukars have a mind of their own.

I finally took that hunting trip with my bride that I’ve been wanting to do for years. We took off towards Brownlee reservoir where we planned on hunting for two days and then travel to a new spot. We had planned on being gone for two weeks with no planned destinations, except for somewhere that looked like chukar habitat and hopefully not so steep habitat. I already knew there was no such place, but this trip reaffirmed my thoughts.

I usually don’t mention areas but without being specific everyone knows these areas and they are vast.

We started at the Cecil Andrus wildlife area and got a key to one of the gated roads. Barb got up early and drove the dogs and me to the top. As you can tell by my clothes it was very brisk and windy and the cover was very heavy.

It didn’t take long to realize that we were in the wrong location. Half the time I couldn’t even see the dogs through the thick grass and no self respecting chukar would reside in that stuff. This area had burned two years ago and wow did it come back strong. My two hour rule once again came through for me. It was 2 hours and 13 minutes before we found our first covey. As has been pretty normal for the year the twenty or so birds were on a steep slope with cover only about ankle deep. The dogs and I perked up and soon were on the second covey. I didn’t realize it but this covey defined how the rest of my trip was going to be. Both good and bad.

It started out with a point and honor on a steep and rocky slope. I was already committed to come in below the dogs and to the left. I usually like to come in on the right. As I moved out front of the dogs a bird flushed behind me. As I spun to try a shot a rock slipped out from under me sending me to the ground. Like I said it was a steep slope and I started cart wheeling down the hill. I let go of the gun hoping to get my self stopped before I gained any more momentum. About thirty yards down the hill I finally got stopped. My ankle hurt but somehow I had missed all the rocks with my head and if my gun was okay I was good to go. Shockingly, the dogs were still locked tight. I had to go back up the hill and retrieve my shotgun. Outside of a few new dings and mud filled barrels everything seemed just fine. That was the bad but the good was the dogs. I returned to the point and shot one bird from the covey. I didn’t dare fire a second shot. After the retrieve I realized the pain in my ankle was actually my achilles tendon. I hadn’t torn it but it sure was tight and sore.

At this point it didn’t make any difference. I had to get down the mountain no matter what and there was lots of country to hunt back to camp. It was steep and rocky but it was what the chukars liked and although I looked like a wounded warrior, thanks to some good dog work, we did pretty darn good.

Day one ended up being my best day as far as bird count for the trip. Day two was my only bust day. I got a key to a different gate and went to the top of the hill. With a sore leg and back I decided to hunt a more rolling area that I had found chukars and huns over the past. The only covey we found drew a big goose egg with both barrels. Strange thing is that this area wasn’t affected by the burn two years ago. Also, I left Jake at camp on this hunt. The ten year old had gone 17 miles on our first hunt and he was tired.

Day three had me sore, as well as Grady, so we traveled to the other side of the pond to hunt Oregon. It doesn’t make sense, but the cover didn’t seem as heavy. The good news was there was plenty of cover to conceal chukars but not their scent. Multiple points produced some fun shooting and we were having fun again on day four.

Day five had us on the steep stuff once again. My achilles tendon was not loosening up any and coupled with my back it was slow going for me, but the boys seemed to adjust and once again we had a very productive day and I was glad to get my butt situated in the truck.

I have to be the luckiest chukar hunter in the world. I get back to camp and Barb has dinner ready and a bed for the boys. I get to my lounge chair and tell her how hard my day has been.

Day six is traveling day and we head for Malheur county in Oregon. I haven’t hunted that area for at least five years and was hoping it was as good as it had been in the past. A good day of rest and stretching was on the agenda and I’d be ready for day seven.

Once again, like on day one, the boys and I were disappointed over the first two hours. One covey had got up wild. The cover was a little heavier than I had remembered so we moved to the steep southern slopes and sure enough it wasn’t long before we were once again in the birds. Jake surprised me on the first covey. I dropped a bird on my first shot and thought I had missed with the second barrel. Grady retrieved the downed bird and Jake had dropped out of sight but shortly came back with a bird in his mouth. By the time we got to the truck we had our birds and once again the truck seat fit me just right.

On day eight I decided to hunt a more northerly slope. We found a fair number of birds but not like the day before. The plus was that even though the covey’s were smaller, they held like they were stuck to the ground. One time, I walked up on Jake’s point and could see the chukar sitting a yard in front of him. I could tell he couldn’t see him and when the bird flushed there were actually three birds. I had two other points similar to that. It makes shooting a little easier when you can get that prepared.

Our next stop was going to be in the Owyhee’s down towards Jordan Valley, but the weather was moving in and calling for snow. The place I normally camp is over 5000 feet and usually gets down to the teens this time of the year so we nixed that idea and decided to hunt an area I hadn’t hunted for many years. I didn’t realize how long it had been, but there was a new geothermal power plant in the area and when I stopped and asked how long it had been there they said they broke ground in 2008.

Once again, we found birds. The weather was snowy and windy and made hunting tough. Low clouds made conditions even worse. Visibility made shooting tough and often had to not take unsafe shots. The one thing I did hear on my last day in this area was another hunter shooting. The day was clear but very windy and I never saw the other hunter. In eight days on the mountains that was the only other bird hunter I heard or saw. I did see another chukar hunter, Geoff, while driving back to camp on the Oregon side of Brownlee but didn’t realize it was him until he text me that I drove past him earlier.

My findings. There are lot’s of chukar mountains out there. They seem to be unoccupied by chukar hunters. There are some really good steep mountains with good numbers of chukars on them. For the most part weather is perfect for chasing birds. The need for water for the dogs has been cut in half. The birds in Oregon are just as tough to get as in Idaho. Chukar hunting is a lot more fun when you don’t hurt. There’s nothing better than following good dogs unless it’s coming back to camp to the woman you love. This chukar hunter is a lucky man.

Happy hunting. They are out there.