Gnarly Rooster Hunts I’ve (Barely) Survived
Rain clouds and wind move in on this hunt. Photo by Mark Herwig / Pheasants Forever
I like the nice, sunny, 50-degree pheasant hunt as much as the next guy. But, hey, they all don’t come that way now, do they!
Take the time some 10 years ago when I (foolishly) ventured forth in central Minnesota for a January (was I crazy?) pheasant hunt. I’m a good sized guy that generates a lot of heat and holds it in well when moving about. I use good gear, but in that subzero wind, if I hadn’t kept moving, the cold, white hand of death was ready to grab me quick. It was a “snot froze instantly” on the hankie day. The dogs could barely gnaw the ice balls off their feet. My cheeks were wind-burnt for a week after.
Did we get any birds? Naw…had we, it would have taken at least 10-degrees off the big chill.
Wha dat’s you say? Go hunting? Now?
Once in South Dakota and, well, again in Ohio, I was talked into hunting in a literal downpour in 30-degree weather. On the Dakota ordeal, we should have called the local fire department to come out for a hypothermia check with us. It was that bad, the kind of driving rain where you had to turn your face to keep the sleet from stinging your skin, which was already raw from the wet and cold. The reason I tried to get out of this hunt was I didn’t have along my usual waterproof pants, so I quickly got soaked. One good thing: As the pants froze and stiffened, they kept me from tipping over when I felt faint. Did we get any birds? Yes, thank goodness. We didn’t have to shoot them, though; they just dropped from the sky when they flew.
In the Ohio downpour, the degree of rain was much, much worse. I kept expecting that Weather Channel guy to pop up in his blue coat and microphone. It was what we call in the damp Midwest a “cloud burst,” that is, the cloud explodes and all the rain comes dumping down in buckets. One of my compadres, who I had warned not to come since he lacked proper gear, did in fact get hypothermic and sick. This time, however, I was ready for old Mother Nature with gonzo gear and then some…I didn’t get the slightest bit wet or cold. For me, another narrow escape…Man, I love hunting.
Have you been on a harrowing pheasant hunt?
The Nomad is written by Mark Herwig, Editor of the Pheasants Forever Journal and Quail Forever Journal. Email Mark at mherwig@pheasantsforever.org.
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South Dakota 2 or 3 years ago for a end of December/early January hunt, it was well below zero and blowing a good 20 MPH. It was so cold that you didn’t want to get into a warm truck because you knew that meant you would thaw out and have to go through the pain to freeze your face, toes and hands again…but we still got all our birds! One of the most memorable hunts I’ve been on.
December 2011. We got 23 inches of snow in NW Wisconsin day before we were to leave. My 1/4 mile long driveway completely drifted in. Had to take all my stuff to the end of drive by sled and get picked up. Left wife to wait for the township end loader as that was the only equipment that could plow it out. Went to North Dakota. Lots of snow on the ground. Most roads closed. Below zero temps with 20 mph winds and horizontal snow. My GSH pointer got cooled off. At times I wondered if I really wanted a Pheasant that bad. We did kill 26 birds for 3 hunters so it turned out pretty well. When we get together we always talk about that ordeal. I would say thats what pheasant hunting is all about.
I was hunting along a creek, without my dog, when the rooster flushed. Unfortunately, it came down on the wrong side of the stream. I waded across the cold water, but as you know, walking back to the car with wet, and nearly frozen boots and pants, is no fun. I wear the wrap-around, neopreme gators that the fly fishermen use, which helped keep the water out of my boots.
My most “gnarly” experience, however, was when we overturned our double kayak (a Otter Stealth). As we rounded a corner in swift stream, we were pulled against a culvert/bridge and I hung on, but my wife and dog were sucked under with the kayak and pulled through before popping up downstream. I climbed up and jumped in on the other side to pull my wife out and the dog made his way to shore by himself. Both were cold and upset, but eventually fine. It was a crazy idea to even take my gun, but occasionally, roosters flush along the shoreline, so I did. I didn’t secure it, however, so it went to the bottom, of course. And we couldn’t find it until the high water went down, a month later. With the help of a gunsmith, my o/u, 20 ga. is back in service, but we lost 2 cell phones, my eyeglasses, and I don’t think our marriage will ever be the same.
I have many stories of bitterly cold winds and heavy snow but the one really unique hunting weekend was a number of years ago in NW Iowa: Freezing rain storm. Ice on everything, hunters, dogs, guns, etc. The ice on the roads was so bad that I literally helped push my friend’s Suburban up a hill on a paved county road.
The birds were holding really tight, we didn’t get much up but when one did flush it was really close! Glad I had an O/U along so I didn’t have to worry about the action freezing up.
Ten below, strong wind in the great plains. Snow was drifting the county roads on the way in. On the way out we had to grind our way through drifts higher then the truck headlights to get back out to the county highway. But, man, did we slay them that day
Kansas 4 years ago. 2 1/2 feet of snow with 30 mph winds blowing sleet right in our faces. Most horriable situation to hunt in, but also one of the most memorable. Birds were sticking so tight they were busting up at our toes. Got 3 total birds in 3 hours. Took us many many more shots than that cause we were so cold we couldn’t squeeze the triggers off.