THE BLAZING SADDLE

THE BLAZING SADDLE Final Days on the Prairies with Gundogs

THE BLAZING SADDLE

Do you have any coverts that you dream about during the off-season when it’s freezing cold outside? I have many, but lately, I’ve been thinking about a special place in some mountains in Southern Idaho that I named “The Blazing Saddle.”

The mountains around Grouse Rock and the Blazing Saddle are beautiful.

I first began grouse hunting in the general area in 2001 when some family members and I miraculously discovered a covert we now call, “Grouse Rock.” I wrote an article about this very experience entitled, “Roadside Revelations,” which appeared in the Autumn 2011 issue of The Upland Almanac. Incidentally, this story is now the title chapter to my forthcoming book on bird hunting. Grouse Rock was so good for the first few years that we had no need to search elsewhere for birds.

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However, in 2004, we found very few birds when we hunted the wooded draws and fingers of Grouse Rock. So the dogs and I started to explore the steep hills and draws across the narrow valley. One day in November, after hiking up an extremely steep grade, the dogs and I fortuitously stumbled upon a shallow saddle packed tightly with quakies and a few interspersed Douglas fir trees. Once you scratch your way up to the saddle, the slope lessens dramatically and the walking becomes much easier. The moment I saw the place I knew we would find some grouse. It just had that look.

In the chapter, “Dusty Boy: Perfect Memories and an Imperfect Bird Dog” in Roadside Revelations, I wrote the following about our first experience in this covert:

In November of that same year, we returned to Grouse Rock and again hunted the opposite side. We came into this birdy-looking saddle and Dusty struck a nice point in a berry bush, but this time his tail was not flagging. Remembering my lesson from earlier, I honored the point and a ruffed grouse got up in front of me. I whiffed my first chance, not once but twice, but marked the bird down. On the second flush, I missed again, swung hard, and caught the bird just before it tried to duck behind a huge pine tree. Despite my poor shooting, I count this as a bird taken from one of Dusty’s points. I named this covert, “Blazing Saddle,” because of all the powder I burned trying to harvest a bird over Dusty.

A red phased ruff is rare in Idaho.

Ever since this time, this covert has held a special place in my heart, but I have only been able to hunt it a few times during the last decade.

Dusty Boy is now flushing birds into the endless horizon of that great covert n the sky. Rest in piece, buddy.

Most recently, I hunted the Blazing Saddle last October during my week-long hunting excursion with my brother, Shawn. That week, the hunting was the toughest we had experienced since 2008, not to mention that I was suffering from a shooting slump. On the last day, I took the opportunity to roam this covert once again. Here’s my journal entry from this hunt:

Tom Davis, John Loomis, and Shawn Wayment hunt ruffed grouse behind Ellie.

For our last hunt, we went to Grouse Rock, but I wanted to hunt the Blazing Saddle for old time’s sake. Tom Davis and Shawn hunted up a draw running parallel to Grouse Rock. I offered to have Tom or John (the New York photographer) come with me, but when they saw the steep stuff, they wanted none of it, which honestly, was fine with me. Admittedly, it was a bugger to get up there, but it was so darn beautiful. Misty and I worked our way over to the saddle and it was in its full glory and looked as birdy as ever. As we worked through the saddle downhill, I remembered my first time there and actually pointed out where I finally overtook that bird with Dusty and Sunny all those years ago. . . good memories! When we stepped out of the saddle and into the service berries bushes on the bench, Misty swung around the edge of the big wooded draw and kicked up a thunderous grouse that flew right in front of me, which I missed twice. I’m starting to think that lately Misty is pushing these birds to me on purpose. However, those shots where the bird flies right at me or crosses directly in front of me are tough. The unruffled grouse dropped back into the saddle and we pursued in hopes of another opportunity. Once inside the saddle, we worked up to the top of the covert and Misty swung to my right and then pointed briefly and the nervous ruff blasted out of the cover quartering right to left. With my confidence really lacking, I tried to get on the bird, but ended up shooting behind it. . . .

This was my last chance at a bird for the week. In my younger years, misses like these used to really eat at me, but not anymore. I guess that comes with time. This is actually a great memory for me. In my journal, I summed up my sentiments on this week of hunting:

It was good to be with my brother and Sterling in beautiful country with our dogs. That alone, is worth the price of admission.

The hunt helped me to appreciate just how good we had it in 2010, 2011, and 2012. We have been blessed!

We ate delicious food every day. Any week you eat tacos/Mexican food 4 times is awesome.

I loved being in the outdoors during the best time of the year. The colors, the lighting, the temperature, the taste of frost ripened apples, are all good for the soul.

I got to remember hunts from years past and to tread the same paths my dogs and I walked in our younger days.

I was humbled by my shooting and realized that shooting slumps are part of the game and I learned to say: “This too shall pass.”

I realized that, even without birds, a hunt can still be a good experience. As Sterling so aptly put it: “It’s just another birdless day in paradise.”