Round 1:
We returned to the familiar stomping grounds in the Desert Wildlife Area feeling like we had the ducks scouted and patterned, no way they would surprise me again. And they didn't because a thin coating of ice kept them out of all the puddles they had been lounging in the week before... Oak was unfazed and went to work putting up pheasants.
Hen pheasants are off limits but this was the first time I had seen some anywhere in Washington. Up to this point I was sure we were chasing survivors of a rooster planting program so it was nice to see that there is a healthy population living in the swamps. Oak put up a total of eight birds in the first four hours but the game bag was conspicuously empty and he was giving me the stink eye. In my defense I only got off one shot due to tough angles or errant flushes but the one Oak kept pointing out was the rooster that got away while I was falling backwards into the cattails. When a full grown rooster rockets out of underneath your foot its an awesome feeling but this guy caught me already off balance and I tumbled onto my butt. Still got the gun up in plenty of time but the muscle memory was a little confused about the proximity of the ground and I didn't get the safety off. After doing my penance push-ups we got back to work.
But after the excitement of the morning I hiked a total of 13 miles with nothing to show for it besides some sore feet, a smirking dog, and a photo of whatever that rodent is.
The next morning we opted for a fresh start and picked an area closer to Potholes reservoir. This turned out to be an inspired choice for a couple reasons. The first and most important is the land is a mix of sand dunes and lakes where the water table has seeped up through the sand. I could barely swing my legs at this point and the easy walking was the only thing keeping me from turning into a weeping puddle of self pity.
There were also more birds and Oak had eight pheasants up in the first three hours. The roosters were wise and taking off outside of my range but Oak's tail was swinging horizontal and fast so there was always hope just beyond the next hill. I also got to practice having hens come out underneath my boots without falling or wetting myself so... progress.
We faced the same struggle as the previous week with no way to close in on the super alert waterfowl and the first duck of the day went to Mr Hawk who we rudely interrupted in the middle of his breakfast.
Our luck changed when we started working along a high banked canal and were able to surprise a few birds. The first was a hen mallard and the second was a green winged teal, both of which let Oak put those webbed toes to work.
I ended up with 21 miles for the weekend and I would guess the hound outworked me by at least a factor of three. It was worth it just to have one day of rest where Oak didn't feel the need to chase a ball.
Round 2:
After the new year, things really froze solid and that tossed out another set of carefully crafted plans for redemption. The ducks were searching for softer water and the pheasants were getting really sneaky after another month of Survivor.
Round 2:
But we put our water walking superpowers to good use and pushed deeper into the marshes. I finally pulled my game together and put down the only rooster and drake mallard that were in range. Oak was so proud of his first ice retrieves.
If you squint you might see the high tech retriever stick that I used to get him headed in the right direction. I took the lazy route and didn't put in the hours to train directional commands, still happy with that choice but my over eager hound really wanted to get back out there to collect the stick.
The canal I had such high hopes for was looking super sketchy for safe retrieves so it was back to busting brush. The most interesting wildlife of the day was this very cold monkey or maybe its a porcupine but I'm sure its one of those two.
It was a great day but I had learned my lesson that 13 miles of brush beating is best followed by a day of moaning from the couch.
Round 3:
My theory for the closing days of the pheasant season was that our efforts the week before had pushed the birds over the canal so we should restore the balance and chase them back across. The stars aligned and we saw over 40 birds! Those are South Dakota numbers and it happens to be the reason I got secretive and vetoed the braggart half of the brain which wanted to post the long hikes.
Round 3:
My theory for the closing days of the pheasant season was that our efforts the week before had pushed the birds over the canal so we should restore the balance and chase them back across. The stars aligned and we saw over 40 birds! Those are South Dakota numbers and it happens to be the reason I got secretive and vetoed the braggart half of the brain which wanted to post the long hikes.
There were so many birds that we both kinda lost our minds in the first couple hours. I wasn't helping the cause with my attempts to capture the sounds of the hound crashing through the brush. In particular there was this awesome tinkling sound of glass shattering as the thin upper layer of ice would break. I had no luck on that audio but I did get caught with my pants down (figuratively):
After our collective heart rates came down and I stored the phone we managed to put a couple pheasants and one Lesser Scaup duck in the bag. As a bonus I found some deer antlers/sheds which would retail for about $40 as chew toys so Oak is stocked for the year!
And finally to reward those completionists out there who really should have stopped at Round 2, here is a public service announcement - Somewhere in the wilds of Eastern Washington the beaver are hiding a genetic modification program and they are getting big, you have been warned:
