Best laid plans

At least the dogs didn’t get thirsty.

I had big plans for the opening of pheasant season. The creekbottom where I’d been hunting sharptail grouse since the first of September was thick with roosters. Some friends were coming up for the weekend and that’s where I was planning to take them for the opener. On the second day of the season we had permission to hunt a piece of prime block management land.

But you know what they say about the best laid plans.

It started raining Monday and didn’t quit until Thursday when it turned to snow. By then much of the country was under water including every creekbottom in the county.

All the secondary roads were impassable if they weren’t washed out, and water was running over the highway south of town.

But Friday dawned warm and sunny and I had hope that things would quickly dry.

We opened the season on the wildlife refuge east of town where the all-weather gravel roads remained intact. The country didn’t look wet, but that was only because the grass is so tall and lush this year. Every step came with a splash and I literally followed in the wake of the dogs.

The birds were scattered in the thin cover on the higher ground and flushed wildly at our approach. However, by the time we returned to the house, tired, wet and muddy, we had managed to bag a few roosters anyway.

Although there hadn’t been as many hunters on the refuge as usual for the opener, we were looking forward to hunting the block management where it would be just us for the day.

It sounded almost too good. I guess I should have known.

The gravel road we took the next morning had dried out a bit and we had high hopes until the road disappeared into a broad expanse of muddy water.

We turned around and tried another route to the north, even crossing a stretch of flooded road on the way, but it was to no avail. Rising water again blocked our path, a green sign marking the block management parking area visible on a nearly submerged fence post, less than a hundred yards from where the road turned to lake.

Close, but no cigar.

We returned to the refuge the next day and picked up a few more roosters, the majority of them requiring water retrieves.

I’m going to give it a few days before go out again. The creek’s still rising and it’s supposed get cold. I think I’ll wait until it all turns to ice.

Parker Heinlein is at

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