(Editor's Note: I wrote this for Minnesota Outdoor News, a publication that unloaded me because I had the audacity to criticize some national Republican officeholders for their sorry conservation voting records. I'm a Republican myself, though one sick of what the radical right has done to my political party.)
Hunting the Upland Birds By Tony Dean
Some consider the opening day of any upland game bird season equivalent to a national holiday. Who am I to argue? Consider the explosive flush of a ringneck, the startling chuckle of a sharptail or the whirring wings of a woodcock, and you are forced to admit there is something here that beckons us each autumn.
Rating upland birds is a risky business. If your criteria is the difficulty of intercepting it with a charge of shot, certainly the bobwhite quail would be near the top, but then what of the cock pheasant riding a tail wind? Or the ruffed grouse that leaves you with perforated leaves, a mangled tree branch and a pair of empties? If the country you find it in becomes a yardstick, then the ruffed grouse in a mixed stand of aspen, pine and assorted hardwoods is certainly deserving of a top ranking. But how about the prairie grouse and its rolling prairie home or the pheasant in a mix of corn, creek bottom and cattails adorned in their fall colors? Certainly, dogs are a part of upland gunning and the perfect dog for all game birds is as rare as a royal flush. Yet dogs and upland game birds are such a magical mix that many would rather forgoe the experience than hunt without a bird dog. That’s why Dee, a brash 5 ½ month old pointing lab sits at my feet as I type. I know she’ll retrieve, there’s a good chance she’ll point and once I coax her into water deeper than her belly, might even do a good job on ducks. Finally, since dining on game birds is at least part of the pleasure associated with upland bird gunning, the table quality of the bird should be taken into consideration.
My only complaint with ruffed grouse is that I do not get the opportunity to hunt them as often as I would like. The best ruffed grouse country in the world is in the Great Lake states, especially Minnesota and Wisconsin, though decent populations exist above the prairies in the Canadian provinces. Sadly, the bird isn’t doing nearly as well in many other areas, particularly in the heavily populated eastern states, where it has all but disappeared.
If ham and eggs are natural partners, then setters and brittanies certainly must have been invented for hunting ruffed grouse. No other breeds seem more adept at sniffing out ol’ ruff and the reasonably close range at which they work seem ideally adapted for dense woodlands. With the possible exception of woodcock and quail, ruffed grouse seem to hold tighter than most birds.
Yet, at least one of the reasons I so look forward to the rare opportunities I get to hunt them, is the exquisite flavor of these marvelous, white-meated birds. No upland game bird tastes quite as good and to describe it as “a lot like chicken” is an insult. No mere chicken ever tasted that good. The fact is, you should discard any recipe that calls for lots of seasoning and ingredients. Take my word for it; there is nothing finer than dusting grouse pieces in seasoned flour, then a quick saute. Add salt and pepper to taste, serve with wild rice or oven-browned potatos, and if you have a bottle of an expensive white wine stashed somewhere, uncork it.
The outlook for grouse isn’t as good as it could be. I’m no expert but the range of this wonderful bird seems to be shrinking. That is truly a shame. Then there is the matter few want to talk about. Gordon Gullion, who prior to his death, probably knew more about these wonderful birds than any living being, told me he came to believe overshooting had much to do with population dips. Naturally, many grouse hunters (and not a few biologists) disagree.
At the other end of the spectrum is the prairie grouse. Sharptails and prairie chickens live on the prairie and the best sharptail country lies in the western Dakotas, Montana, Saskatchewan and Alberta. Prairie chickens are found from south central South Dakota down into the hills of Oklahoma. Kansas is widely regarded as having the best prairie chicken hunting in America but those who have hunted the Fort Pierre National Grasslands in central South Dakota would argue. Sharptails are birds of the short and mixed grass prairies while prairie chickens prefer tall grass prairies. Unfortunately, the prairie is the most altered landscape on Earth, something that does not speak well for the future of prairie grouse. Look for suitable prairie grouse habitat to continue to diminish until we can develop farm bill provisions that make it more attractive to leave the prairie unbroken than it is to plow and plant. In fact, the fate of prairie grouse will rest on the success of Archer Daniels Midland. I make reference to their television commercial in which they talk about how their products are so superior that they can make former grazing land 30 times more productive by growing soybeans. Perhaps they’re right…unless you consider prairie grouse and a whole host of other wild critters that depend on prairie as equal evidence of “productivity.”.
Unlike ruffed grouse, the prairie birds feature dark red meat. Some say it’s gamy; others complain of toughness. The truth is the same as it is with ducks, venison or most red meats. Cook it well done and you can guarantee gamy flavor and tough meat. Cook it quickly to medium rare and you’ll be amazed at how delicious prairie grouse can be. Two years ago, John Cooper, Bruce “Wickerbill” Crist, Dr. Bob Nelson and myself, shared an exquisite meal at Pierre’s La Minestra restaurant. Chef Mark Mancuso marinated the birds in a soy-based sauce that also may have included balsamic vinegar and olive oil, and then he sauteed them to medium rare. He made a rich butter and brandy sauce and served the birds with grilled aspargus and squash accompanied by a bottle of fine Merlot. Twas a meal to remember.
Prairie grouse hold well for a good pointing dog. However, because the birds are often scattered across vast tracts of unbroken prairie, a good dog needs good wheels.
“I like a big running pointer or setter,” says prairie grouse and dog expert, Bruce “Wickerbill” Crist. “A dog that can really cover ground can shrink big cover.”
Prairie grouse are not difficult targets. Their flight is marked by a few rapid wing beats are followed by long glides. Perhaps the most unnerving thing about sharptails is the loud, stutter chuckle as they flush. Prairie chickens make no such noise.
The Bobwhite quail will also hold for a pointing dog. Unfortunately, Bobwhites aren’t doing well in most areas and most of the southern hunts seen on television take place on plantations over stocked birds. However, you’ll roam far and wide across what was once America’s best quail range to find wild quail. Wild populations exist in southeastern South Dakota, Nebraska, Missouri and Kansas. Iowa was once a good quail state but intensive farming has dealt these wonderful little game birds a near mortal blow in the Hawkeye state.
I bagged them regularly back in the 1960s outside of Cedar Rapids. IA but quail hunters there tell me they are a thing of the past. I’ve hunted them along the Missouri River on the South Dakota and Nebraska border where a small population seems to hold on following a succession of mild winters, and a few years ago, I saw a small covey near Tuthill Park in the southeastern portion of Sioux Falls. But unfortunately, it seems that with each passing year, finding wild quail anywhere is like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.
Aldo Leopold wrote eloquently about the sky dance of the woodcock. These little birds have a small but fanatical following generally comprised of ruffed grouse hunters who usually see them as bonus birds. I’ve hunted woodcock just twice; both times in northern Minnesota and remember bringing birds back to South Dakota, freezing them and trying them within a week. I’ll admit I knew nothing about woodcock and managed to find a recipe in an old game cookbook. Upon completion, I sat down and discovered what a nightcrawler must taste like. Friends have told me since you have to acquire a taste for them. I’ll second that. What I do know is that they hold beautifully for a pointing dog. And though they are often hunted in the same timber where ruffed grouse are found, I honestly didn’t find them hard to hit.
Not nearly as hard as one of my favorite game birds, the Hungarian Partridge, or “grey partridge” as many upland game biologists call them these days. When a covey of Huns flushes in front of you, even though you are expecting it, they take you by surprise, rising in a blur with the sound of a raspy whistle punctuating the prairie air. Even though I keep telling myself to pick a single bird, I still find the temptation to flock shoot almost overwhelming. Occasionally, I follow my own advice and bag a bird or two. That’s rewarding by itself but the bird is even better when quickly sauteed in a white wine sauce spiced with a dash of pepper and served over a bed of wild rice. Like the ruffed grouse, the worst thing you can do to a hun is to overpower its delicate flavor with too many spices. Huns show some signs of a comeback in North Dakota and I occasionally see the odd bird or two while traveling eastern South Dakota. A half dozen years ago, I’d often see 15 to 20 coveys along the roads while scouting waterfowl on October afternoons. Even biologists admit they know little about the Hun, and you’re just as apt to find them in a plowed field as around a deserted farmstead.
Though wild pheasant range seems to be shrinking as rapidly as that of other major upland birds, there is no denying the fact the ringneck is America’s most popular upland game bird. To understand how popular, you need to spend an opening weekend in South Dakota. Start at the Sioux Falls airport where the lobby takes on a festive holiday atmosphere. There are exhibitors, well-wishers and glad-handers present to welcome hunters to South Dakota. Every state and many countries are represented as more than 130,000 hunters converge on South Dakota. They rent cars or are met by outfitters or guides. Many bring dogs in kennel crates, and even more drive, most in expensive, 4wd sport utility vehicles.
Then you need to spend opening night in one of the pheasant meccas; Chamberlain, Gregory, Winner, Huron or Redfield among the most familiar. If you’re among them and you drink, don’t drive. Each year, local jails are jammed with hunters who will miss their opening weekend. There’ll be church dinners, Chamber of Commerce-catered affairs and fund raisers going on simultaneously. Opening weekend was once a gathering of landowners and local hunters, largely from South Dakota cities. Some would also host non-resident hunters who became part of the group that would assemble each opening weekend. Sadly, those days seem lost in the past. Fewer South Dakotans participate each year and many feel crowded out by well-heeled visitors willing to pay for their hunting.
Certainly, it’s hard to blame a landowner who can clear as much as $10,000 on an opening weekend. But local hunters understandably feel overwhelmed. While it’s not out of line to spend $1,500 for five days of pheasant hunting when compared with the cost of a typical fishing trip to any good lodge, for the local hunter who once looked forward to 10 or 15 days afield each fall, it’s cost-prohibitive.
Can you still travel to South Dakota and freelance your way into free hunting? The answer is both yes and no. No, if you go to the main pheasant belt. Yes, if you’re willing to travel to off-the-beaten-path areas outside that area. Even there, you’ll encounter many landowners who are now asking and getting daily fees. But, knock on enough doors and you’ll find some quality free hunting. There are more than 400,000 “walk-in” acres where the state has leased public hunting rights from willing landowners. These are usually CRP fields and the hunting can be excellent…on opening weekend. After that, most public areas are pretty burned out.
The lure, of course, is the colorful male pheasant. You hold one and watch as the sun reflects off the colors, which seem to change as the angles to light change. It is as though you are looking at a bird through a kaleidoscope. The rooster has a dark head separated from its multi-colored body by a glistening white ring. The tail can measure up to 3-feet in length and the bird seems easy enough to hit…on opening weekend. After that, it’s a whole ‘nother ball game.
Those that remain are survivors. Most will run far ahead, a habit some try to counter by placing blockers at the end of the field. Somehow, if 75 yards separates blockers, the flying birds will bisect the distance, or they’ll flush far ahead of those walking the field and never come close to the blockers.
This wariness seems to increase as each day of the season passes. By late December, all you need do is open the truck door and watch as hundreds of birds erupt from nearby cover. From then on, efforts conducted by pheasant hunters resemble complicated military assaults.
It is amusing to watch those who have spent hundreds of dollars with a professional dog trainer, enter a state of bewilderment as their dog moves into a field that may be holding several hundred (or more) birds. The dogs experience has probably been limited to shooting preserves with game farm birds. Suddenly the dog encounters a veritable maze of fresh scent. There are birds everywhere and the dog suddenly loses its hearing and follows instinct. Though the cover might be very thick, you can always tell exactly where the dog is; immediately behind those large flocks of flying pheasants flushing well out of gun range. After a couple such efforts, the dog owner realizes that all good flushing dogs have hunting instincts, but in South Dakota, obedience is the most important trait. Pointer and setter owners can chuckle but their breeds rarely fare any better in fields full of birds. They learn also that their dogs work best when flock sizes are smaller, much smaller and the cover is heavier, much heavier. Otherwise it’s one false point followed by another.
There are so many pheasants in South Dakota that in spite of unruly dogs, hefty daily fees and a circus atmosphere early in the season, you’ll return home with a few birds in your cooler. Take my word for this. Pheasants are delicious. They do not need two cans of cream of mushroom soup to turn them into good table fare. In fact, discard any recipe calling for cream of mushroom soup.
If it’s a young bird, merely dust the pieces in seasoned flour, brown quickly and make a delectable sauce from the pan scrapings and drippings by adding a bit of butter and white or red wine. Or use a dollop or two of good brandy in lieu of the wine. Serve the pheasants over wild rice and drizzle the sauce over the top.
I also like to dust them in seasoned flour, brown them very quickly, then drape strips of bacon across the pheasant pieces and finish in the oven for 30-minutes at 300 degrees. Again, prepare a sauce as above.
As I get older, I find myself thinking more about bird hunting, though I’ll never understand why it’s called wingshooting. I look at the figures and realize there are fewer bird hunters each year. Certainly much of that has to do with reduced habitat, which is the ultimate control on wild game bird populations. I’m not sure I’d ever be able to satisfy myself with a trip to a preserve where the cover is poor, unrealistically small and the birds unmistakably tame. Yet, that is surely where we’re headed unless someone can figure a solution to access. That word looms along with disappearing habitat as the major obstacle in the way of bird hunting in the future.
