Editor's note: I wrote this piece shortly after the opening day of the pheasant season, 2003. It was published by Dakota Country magazine.
A Few of My Favorite Things By Tony Dean
I can only imagine how difficult it is to paint an autumn Dakota sunset, but it’s even more difficult to find the words to describe one. How, for example, do you explain the brilliance, the blending of colors, the changing of hues each second? I thought about that as I drove west, approaching Presho, a small, south central South Dakota community on I-90 that announces its location with a tall globe-shaped water tower. We were on our way home from Kimball, SD where my wife, Dar, Curt Johnson and myself joined Curt’s nephew, Chad Johnson, his brother Darren, and a host of others for the South Dakota pheasant opener. I looked at that incredible Dakota sunset and thought it was the perfect end to a wonderful day.
The hunt was marvelous, one that could only have lasted longer than an hour or so, had every member of the party passed up most of the shots that were presented. There were just too many birds for that. Everything the Game, Fish & Parks Department had been saying about the 2003 pheasant crop was true. It was the best in 40 years.
The first flush was explosive as about 25 birds erupted from the waist-high cover. I swear 75 percent of them were cocks. It is an unnerving experience to zero in on one bird and another crosses the flight path even closer. I can only imagine what it must be like to be a black lab charged with finding the cripples that have been downed in what must be a veritable maze of scent. Somehow, they sort things out.
Just as that feat amazes me, I wonder what it must be like to be a dog with a good nose as you approach so many pheasants. Lord, that scent must be everywhere. Is it any wonder that some dogs just lose it and you don’t see them again for an hour. But you know where they’re at by the rising numbers of birds. Every dog I’ve ever seen that has pulled that stunt, finally returns. I swear that though they know a chew-out is coming, they can’t erase the grin.
I’m proud to say that none of our dogs did that though most went just a little bit whacky, and who can blame them? So did we. I think there were fifteen, maybe twenty shots fired within a 5-second span, but I saw only five birds fall. And after shaking off those opening flush jitters, humans and dogs did better.
On that same day, more than 25,000 hunters passed through the Cabela’s store in Mitchell, SD alone, a scene that was repeated, though on a smaller scale, at any outlet that sold shells, licenses, sunglasses and cold drinks and gasoline. After all, the temperature pushed 90 degrees that day and more than 100 dogs perished in the heat. Yet, more than 150,000 hunters were in South Dakota’s uplands that day, over twice as many as would watch the World Series that night in Yankee Stadium.
A few days later, I drove to Steve Halvorson’s farm, near Kennebec, SD. There, as we walked up to a kochia-laden, dry stock pond, a bird flushed and Steve downed it. About 50 other birds flushed, then another 40 or 50, then about 75…and they kept on flushing for a full six minutes. I figure there were around 1,500 pheasants that flew out of that tiny patch.
“Yeah, it’s a lot like the soil bank days,” said Steve’s Dad, Harlan, “except that they were probably more scattered out back then.”
All in all, on my first two hunts, the bird count would have been in the thousands, and easily the most birds I’ve ever seen on a single day.
Opening days and early season hunts are fun, but I still prefer the late season, when you see as many birds but they are wilder than hell. These are the wise old roosters who have run the gauntlet, some more than a few times.
Some say the whitetail deer is more attuned to its environment than any critter found in the Dakotas. That’s true if we limit the discussion to an older doe. More than 30 years of sitting in a tree stand have me convinced that she’s the one who pays attention to every sound, every smell, any movement. But she’s not far ahead of the late season ringneck. Ahhh yes, admit it, old timer. These are two of the biggest passions in your life, deer and pheasant hunting, and you rarely write about either.
Patience, my son, cautions the old outdoor writer. Some things we keep to ourselves. Among them, a few secret fishing holes, a special wetland or two and some sports we can partake in without the intrusion of a television camera. We’ve succeeded completely when it comes to deer hunting and we only occasionally fall from the wagon on pheasants.
Watch an old doe come through cover. She takes a step or two, cocks an ear this way, then that, sniffs the air and…stands there…as if her entire body is taking count of those things that should…or shouldn’t…be there. Contrast that with a buck, the kind with a rack that will make most hunters proud. It is November and it’s either pre-rut, post-rut or in-rut, and these periods all have the same result. The buck loses his hearing, sense of smell, vision and common sense and does all of its thinking with one organ. That might explain why you see so many buck heads mounted over fireplaces…and never see a mounted doe head. Why is it, I wonder, we measure an animal in only one way?
In the pheasant world, things are just the opposite. Just as the buck wears the majestic rack, the cock pheasant is adorned in more colors than the sunsets we admire so much while the hen is, at best, rather drab. But unlike the whitetail doe, even on the final day of the pheasant season, hens get up at your feet while the roosters are flushing from the field across the highway from where you’re hunting.
I think I also know why so many deer hunters say they don’t care for venison. The only venison they ever taste comes from the body of a buck. Think about what that buck’s been doing for the month or so before you hunt him. He’s run himself ragged. He doesn’t eat and seems to go round the clock. When he stops, it’s to urinate…on himself. So the innocent hunter whacks one of these sex-starved creatures, plugs his nose and field dresses him. He cuts the animal up in meal-size portions and freezes them. Then, he waits until they’ve freezer burned…and throws them out.
And tells everyone he doesn’t like venison.
Some year, go shoot a doe. Big game managers and farmers are begging you to do this. Carefully field dress her, strip all the fat and wrap and freeze it. Friends, inside each carefully wrapped package is Nirvana. The flesh on a typical doe is so succulent it’s a shame any of it goes on a sausage pile. There is little that tastes quite as good as the loin of a mature doe, seasoned only with salt and pepper, coated with olive oil and cooked quickly to medium rare over hot coals. There has never been a whitetail buck that tasted like this and Mule deer bucks rank even lower.
Of course, when it comes to the ringneck, we only eat cocks because unless you are hunting on a preserve, they are the only legal game. But even here, I’d be willing to bet a hen tastes better. And as much as I hold properly cared for and prepared venison in high esteem, with pheasants, the flavor is somewhat bland and you need to do something with it to make it memorable. But please…please…hold the cream of mushroom soup. The Campbell’s folks have been thanking you for a long time and I sense that their Cream of Mushroom soup sales zoom after the pheasant opener. And I wonder if it isn’t related to the belief of many wives that all game is gamy and as long as you have to cook it, you try to disguise the flavor with…soup…uh, how about Cream of Mushroom?
My favorite way to hunt whitetails is to still hunt; nothing more than pussyfooting through the woods and spending more time looking than actually walking. Before you take a step, you look to see where to plant your feet to avoid making a sound. And you look and look and look but you do not look for a deer. Instead look for horizontal lines in the mostly vertical timber, in other words, things that do not belong. And as much as I enjoy hunting this way, I know I tip the odds in my favor if I sit in a stand.
Fortunately, the way I prefer to hunt whitetails is the same method I choose for late season pheasants. Walk slowly, stop often and look a lot, and you’ll flush birds you’d otherwise walk past. And if you’re lucky, your dog likes hunting as slowly as you do. Smart dogs do because they figure things out better than dumb ones. And the more birds your dog hunts, the smarter your dog will get.
I have my favorite firearms for both types of hunting.
For deer in heavy cover, I always grab my Marlin lever action 30-30, a caliber that’s arguably killed more whitetails than any other. No, it’s not the fastest of cartridges and it’s certainly not a flat shooter. You don’t even consider taking a shot out past 100 yards but for the kind of hunting I am doing, a 20-yard shot is a long one. And in that arena, the 30-30 with a 150 grain soft point bullet does the job more than adequately. If I am hunting open country, I choose between an ancient 270 Remington pump-action that could be used to drill tacks, even with the equally ancient Weaver scope it wears, or a much newer Remington 722 bolt action 25-06.. I haven’t had to sight the 270 in for years. I take it out to the range, shoot a few shots, and if I’ve shot well, it’ll consistently put its slender 130 grain pills about 2 to 3 inches high at a hundred yards. Ironically, the much newer 25-06 doesn’t give me that kind of accuracy.
My choice for pheasants is also a Remington, a 12 gauge autoloader. I believe the 11-87 is a superb shotgun. Other than the time I broke a striker plate, it has never failed me, even when half the dirt in Sully County occupied its insides or in sub-zero temperatures. It came with a set of Rem-chokes and I did what every shotgunner should do. I patterned the gun with each and quickly concluded that the Improved Cylinder choke consistently delivered the best patterns at the ranges I shoot pheasants. So, I threw the others away. That’s because the maximum distance for clean kills is nearly always less than 35-yards. I’ve been hunting pheasants long enough to know that when I take shots at distances farther than that, one of two things happens: (1) My success rate drops like an errant high schooler’s air ball, and (2) my crippling rate sky rockets.
And that happens regardless of whether I am shooting lead, steel or any of the newer non-toxic shot shells. These days, I don’t shoot much lead, nor have I succumbed to the newer non-toxics that carry a poisonous price tag. I stick with steel almost exclusively and nearly always choose 3 shot. Tests conducted by the North Dakota Game and Fish Department in cooperation with Tom Roster confirm what I’ve come to believe. It’s the best shot choice if you’re using steel.
In spite of my love for that gun, I usually open the season with one of two others, both of them, 20 gauges. One is a gun I bought years ago, a Ruger Red Label 20 gauge over/under. I don’t get to use it that often these days since Dar has pretty much claimed ownership. To tell the truth, I prefer single barrels and I often tote my Remington 1100 LT 20 gauge. It’s light, points quickly and I really enjoy it for early season ringnecks. It too is bored Improved Cylinder and chambered for 2 ¾ inch shells. I can’t usually find 3 shot for this gun so I settle for 2’s. But after the opening week, the roosters savvy up and generally flush out in 12-gauge country so I switch back to the old boomer.
Deer and pheasants often share a love for particular cover types. Early on, before the corn is picked, you can find both in cornfields much of the time. There’s shade, cover and food. Hunting the corn for pheasants is self-explanatory but few deer hunters have mastered the technique for hunting whitetails there.
Work upwind, beginning at a corner. Walk a few feet, then slowly, cross a row at a time, always working upwind. You will be amazed at how often you’ll spot whitetails bedded down in corn and a goodly number of archers in corn and deer states such as Iowa and Illinois rely on this technique. It works just as well here.
Deer and pheasants love cattail marshes, and especially during late season, it is a wonderful place to find either. Hunting tactics are similar. Move slowly and do at least as much looking as walking. Simple short drives work well for either species. But I can’t overestimate the importance of hunting slowly. Whitetails and ringnecks are masters at sitting tight and allowing you to walk on by.
Let’s also dispense with much of the nonsense on deer hunting tactics that you read in the outdoor magazines. If you are hunting public land, deer abandon their usual movements soon after the opening half-hour. It’s only on private land that is lightly hunted that you can depend on them to do the same things at about the same time each day. If you’re hunting public land, seek out the heaviest cover. That’s where you’ll find the deer after the crowds arrive (and they always do when you hunt public land) and it’s hard to beat slow, quiet drives, usually short ones, as a prime way to tag your venison.
Let’s talk a bit about field care and preparation.
Though few hunters field dress pheasants, they’ll be amazed at the difference it will make if they do. It takes seconds to open the body cavity and remove the innards. Stuff each bird with some dry grass that allows air to circulate. The quicker you cool the bird, the better the flavor on the table.
The same is true of venison. Get that body cavity opened, the lungs, intestines, etc. removed and prop it open with a stick. If there’s snow on the ground, try to use it to wash the cavity as much as possible. Otherwise, use paper towels or cheesecloth. Hang it as soon as possible.
Philosophies on aging vary. I believe venison tastes better if you can age it at a constant temperature (and that’s usually the problem) below 40 degrees for a week or so. Dan Nelson suggests doing it in a second refrigerator, keeping the temperature below 40 degrees. Oh, you don’t have a second refrigerator out in the garage? Tell you how to get one. Next summer, start putting your leeches in the refrigerator, explaining to your wife their high cost and the need to keep them cool. You’ll have a rummage sale refrig in no time. I think pheasants taste better if they’re aged too. If you can’t maintain those temperatures, you’re probably better off wrapping and freezing it.
I’ve talked about preparing a choice cut such as the venison loin, but what about the lesser cuts? I’m a steak lover and I prefer to cut as much of the round into steaks of at least 1 ½ inches thick. From here, I take the advice of Chef Mark Mancuso of La Minestra in Pierre, SD. Salt the steaks and roll them in cracked black pepper, then heat a saute’ pan until it is very hot. Add a tablespoon or so of olive oil and place the steaks in the pan. About a minute or two on each side will be about right for medium rare. Remove the steaks from the pan and then reduce the heat slightly. Here’s the creative part. Venison goes well with berries of any kind. Cherries, plums or lingonberries are perfect. Add your choice of a half-cup of cabernet sauvignon, marsala, merlot or port wine, a tablespoon of cold butter and a half-cup of the berries. Stir, making sure you scrape every bit of crusty venison off the pan surface (that’s where the great flavor is) reduce the liquid by half and pour the delectable sauce over the venison. Taste this and you’ll be making a lot less sausage from your next deer.
I did what I call Pheasant Marsala a few nights ago. I cut the pheasant breasts into 2-inch chunks, then dusted them in seasoned (salt & pepper) flour, heated my saute pan until it was smoking hot, added a tablespoon of olive oil and quickly stir-fried the pheasant. All told, it takes less than a couple minutes to saute’ the chunks from four breasts. Above all, don’t overcook them. Remove the pheasant from the pan and set it aside. Add a couple tablespoons of cold butter to the pan, a half-cup of marsala wine to deglaze the pan, then two tablespoons of the seasoned flour. Stir constantly over medium heat until you reduce it by half. Pour this delectable sauce over the pheasants, then serve with a good, crispy green vegetable, squash and a glass of good red wine.
And whether you hunt pheasants or deer, the Dakota sunset will reward you at the end of the day.
