The middle Tennessee hills are a hidden treasure of superb quail hunting habitat.

It’s late October and the hills west of Nashville are starting to color up in a hundred shades of red and yellow. A bluebird sky is revealing itself overhead as the sun peaks over the horizon, painting the lightly frosted fields of broomstraw and briars a golden hue. There’s a slight sting to the chilly air, a pleasant reminder that the southern summer is at last losing its grasp. The serenity of this bucolic scene is broken only by the excited yapping, barking, whimpering and howling of dogs in the box. As we fiddle with guns and shells and orange vests, the racket is joyful noise to our ears. It’s a fine morning to be quail hunting.

Tyler Wilson is the manager of Tumbling Creek Lodge, post office: Bucksnort, Tennessee. The town is just as bustling and metropolitan as the name suggests, with a little diner and a truckstop off I-40 the closest signs of civilization. This particular weekend Tyler is taking two gentlemen from North Carolina on a full-day quail hunt. He has supplied both guns and dogs. After a couple minutes of safety talk and a sincere assurance that he hates it when people pepper his dogs, he releases Amy and Buddy. Buddy, an English Setter, is madly running in circles, peeing, pooping and in total bliss. Amy the pointer is more reserved, prancing, sniffing and taking care of her bodily functions in relative seclusion. After a minute or so, Tyler blows his whistle and shouts “hunt ‘em up.”

We begin to follow as the dogs dash away, noses to the ground, tails wagging frantically. It’s always amazing to watch tightly wound setters and pointers explode through the fields, never bumping a single bird. Moving into the wind, their noses see farther and sharper then their eyes in the dense undergrowth, giving them fair warning when birds are ahead.

Suddenly, Amy jerks to a stop, creeps a few steps then locks up in classic pointer fashion. “There’s a point,” Tyler says over his shoulder. “Wo now,” he calmly tells her. Buddy, fifty yards past Amy, has gone into backup point, honoring his partner.

Tyler waves his hands, placing the hunters to either side. He knows they’re not very experienced and he reminds them of low birds and which direction to swing and not swing the shotguns. They nod, and move slowly into the brush on his flanks. Tyler steps past Amy and slaps the grass with a short leather whip. That’s all the birds need to inspire them to flight, and a half dozen burst in every direction. Over-and-unders boom and four shot strings disappear harmlessly into the atmosphere. A couple of the escapees settle in the field a few hundred yards away, while others glide into the thick tangle that lines Tumbling Creek.

Tyler offers words of encouragement and the hunters share a frustrated laugh. Meantime, both dogs have taken up separate points on new birds. “We’ll follow up those two later,” he says, pointing toward the closest point. Amy is starting to sneak and is ‘Wo’d’ back by Tyler. He gestures to the hunters and they once again flank him and approach the pointer. As soon as Tyler’s boots crunch the dry brush in front of the dog, the birds flush. Three launch away in a spread formation, offering each hunter a clear crossing shot. A puff of feathers indicates that Pat has placed a good shot. Buddy rushes toward the crash site as Brad’s second shot rocks the bird but fails to bring it down.

Tyler’s in a tizzy, ordering Amy to ‘hunt dead!’ while telling Pat to mark his bird. Meanwhile Buddy has vanished in the tall stuff sniffing the trail of another covey. Tyler congratulates both hunters on their improved shooting hoping to further raise their level of confidence. Amy proudly emerges from the brush and passes a cock quail to Tyler’s waiting hand. After a few “atta girls” and a rub on the head, and Amy’s off again.

By late morning, the shooting is hotter, the temperature warmer, and the bottled water tasting better. Tyler has put Amy and Buddy back in the box and collared up a German shorthair and pointer named Gert and Champ respectively. Champ is a pup and bumps a bird or two, but otherwise shows off the good training he’s received from Tyler.

Lunch means a ride back to the Tumbling Creek Lodge for a home-cooked meal. A staff member cleans the birds, while Tyler goes to the kennel to swap out for the afternoon. From the dining room a quarter mile away, the dogs can be heard shouting in their canine language, ‘Take me! Pick me! It’s my turn!’

The afternoon consists of hunting a completely different terrain of rolling hills and interspersed copses of thorn and honeysuckle. By end of day, the North Carolinians have taken 27 birds and are ready for dinner and an adult beverage or two.

Tumbling Creek Lodge is an Orvis-endorsed wing shooting destination that offers trout fishing, turkey hunting as well as quail hunting. The accommodations are first-rate and the food is ‘slap-yo-mama’ good. The quail, though pen-raised, are smart, fast flyers, and despite the ever-watchful eyes of redtail hawks, they have a good survival rate and quickly acclimate to the conditions. Thus a hunter may come across newly pen-raised birds, pen-gone-wild birds, and occasionally, a covey of truly wild native bobwhites.

To find out more about Tumbling Creek Lodge, “Tennessee’s finest wing shooting and fly fishing experience,” visit www.thetumblingcreeklodge.com or call Tyler Wilson at 866-908-4868.

Larry Chesney is a freelance writer, contributing to such magazines as Sporting Classics, North American Hunter, and South Carolina Sportsman. He resides in Taylors, South Carolina.

Please send your comments to letters@shotgunlife.com.

"We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto!" I said to Steve Lamboy as we left the small home that serves as the clubhouse for the Arzaga Drugulo hunting club. Steve and I were guests of Paolo Zoli and his father, Giuseppe Zoli, owners of the preeminent gunmaker Antonio Zoli located in the center of Italy's historic arms producing region, Gardone Val Trompia.

Arzaga Drugulo is owned by Roberto Ferrata, a charming, elegant man who inherited the property from his father several decades ago. The hunting club was named after the twelfth- century estate that included the Drugulo Castle and is presently owned by Baron Della Quara.

To the northwest, behind the clubhouse, was the soul-stirring panorama view of Lake Garda, the largest lake in Europe. Ahead of me, to the east, half a mile up the road on the path we would soon travel to hunt, were vineyards of syrah, merlot and cabernet franc grapes and scattered small groves of olive trees.

Lake Garda is in northern Italy between Venice and Milan and is part of the Lombardy region on the west and the Veneto region on the east. The northern tip is in the Trentino-Alto Adige region. The Dolomite Mountains can be seen towering above the lake. Many years ago and many pounds lighter, I participated in two cross-country ski marathons in the Dolomites.

The lake region offers an array of summer and winter sports activities and boasts a diverse landscape with beaches along the southern shores and rocky cliffs above the northern shoreline. One of the more elegant destinations is the Palazzo Arzaga Hotel Spa & Golf Resort, a beautiful 15th-century palazzo that offers luxury lodging and dining, spas and one of the finest golf resorts in Northern Italy.

The Palazzo and similarly elegant accommodations in the area are priced at a level not for those with high blood pressure, as they toddle around in the range of $2,000 per night.

Forests and Fields

Typical for November, rain had drenched the valley much of the evening and mist still hung in the air like a shroud. We put on our hunting boots and oiled jackets and then Paolo, as a gesture of generosity, gave me his personal Super Luxus 20 bore over/under for my hunting. Steve carried a new Columbus 12-bore field configured model.

Unarguably, the crown jewel of the Zoli guns was Giuseppe’s handcrafted Holland-style 20-bore sidelock. The engraving motif was a Zoli family portrait in a hunting scene brilliantly executed by Angelo Galeazzi, by all measures ensconced in the Pantheon of Italy’s finest artists. Angelo and Giuseppe’s friendship dates back to their childhood.

Long-time Zoli family friend Angelo Gustonelli joined us. An industrialist and wine collector, Angelo possesses a sharp wit and an exuberance for the outdoors. We walked three quarters of a mile or so up the path to the section of forest where our hunting would begin.

The vineyards were now shorn of leaves and fruit, the olive grove stark and gray and a cornfield, smaller than a football field, sprouted husks and dried stalks. Nope, this wasn’t Kansas or Nebraska or Colorado or Montana or any other place I’d been fortunate enough to hunt pheasant.

Although we would hunt pheasant and partridge in a few small cornfields, those topographies were mere grace notes to the thick wooded forest in which most of our hunting would take place.

The dark forests and glens had an enchanted quality. A pungent musk smell of earth and damp wood and grass filled the nostrils. Sunlight entered in slices through the tree limbs and leaves. We traversed leaf-strewn narrow paths up and down gently rolling terrain. Under the command of Vero de Micheli, the dog handler and guide, the pair of labradors worked the brush and grass with the precision of an Olympic skating pair.

A pheasant exploded from a tree. Giuseppe pivoted with a grace that belied his 80 years and brought the bird down with one well-placed shot. Tails wagging like an old-style musician’s metronome, the dogs promptly retrieved the bird and placed it at Vero’s feet. Very few shots are had on this type of hunt. Each is precious. Each has meaning.

We hunted leisurely in the forest for perhaps an hour and a half. Paolo pointed out many tiny bird houses attached to trees. Small birds of a certain species are raised as a food delicacy, and are eaten whole, bones and all.

We exited the forest and approached a cornfield. The dogs ran through the tall, wet corn stalks, causing water to spray in their wake as if from a slalom skier. A bird shot up and Steve fired. Moments later it was retrieved and presented to Vero. The dogs now energized and active, I walked cautiously and prepared for a shot, flipping my gun’s safety on and off like a Cuisinart switch when making brioche dough.

I stopped a moment to absorb the beauty of the area. The elevation of the field offered an unimpeded view of the southeast end of Lake Garda. Its elegance was exquisite and soothing, the air still and fragrant. Pleasure boats, hydrofoils and catamarans dotted the water. Car ferries traveled between small towns on opposing coasts, such as between Toscolano Maderno and Torri del Banaco.

Memories were rekindled. I hadn’t visited Lake Garda in several years. My first visit was in March, 1997 when, with the assistance of engraver Mauro Dassa of Incisioni Dassa, I toured the factories of several elite gunmakers. My most recent visit was in 2005, while I was working on an article for Beretta.

During that trip I and Mauro and his family had dined at a lakeside pizzeria, enjoying a sumptuous dinner of delicately fried calamari and pizzas with the thinnest crust covered with basil, fresh mozzarella cheese and smoked salmon, accompanied by several bottles of delicious local sparkling and still wines.

Colorado and Italy have, I think, the most gorgeous skies, and now shards of sunlight were hacking through gray slabs of clouds like hatchets. Light glinted off the perfectly blued barrels of the Luxus and the exhibition grade wood seemed possessed of an inner glow. The observations about the gun had greater significance because the day before I had been in the factory and seen them produced.

I watched the steel milled to one-ten thousandths of an inch tolerance and I drooled at the magnificent stock blanks stored in humidity-controlled vaults as if they were the finest Bordeaux bottles.

Steven, Paolo and I walked on a dirt path, cornfield to our left, deep growth forest to our right. Angelo yelled. We pivoted to our right. I saw a flash of color disappear into the trees. It was a woodcock, the queen of the wood and a rare sighting.

Paolo and I were talking when Vero yelled again. A magnificent pheasant had flushed and flew directly at us, an easy shot, but we were unprepared. We shrugged simultaneously and continued our discussion on the merits of using olive oil when cooking sea bass.

We continued hunting at the forest’s edge. The dogs began yelping furiously. Paolo and Steve were a few yards behind me; Giuseppe further back and in the woods with Angelo a step behind him. A pheasant flushed from brush within the woods and took off like a missile toward the top of the trees at the edge of the woods. The window of visibility was minimal. I twisted to my left while simultaneously shouldering the wand-like 20 bore and fired.

Paolo cheered, “Elegante, Michael!” A perfect shot! I was pleased. My colleague, Steve Comus, editor of Safari Magazine, once told me, “When you make a perfect shot with a beautiful gun, all is right with the world.” Even if all is right for just a moment, I’ll take it.

Time for Lunch

We returned from the hunt to the clubhouse in soaring spirits. Each of us had been successful with at least one challenging shot; the weather had warmed the earth and burned off the moisture and Garda glistened in the distance like a patch of diamond dust.

History drenched the clubhouse. It was old; it smelled old and it had that exquisite quality indicating that uncountable marvelous hours had been enjoyed within its confines. Photographs of club dignitaries covered the walls, including several of the Beretta and Zoli families dating back two-thirds of a century. A well-used wooden gun rack, scarred from butts and barrels, was attached to a wall near the window, the temporary residence for our cleaned and oiled guns.

Teresa, our chef, introduced herself as she presented the first course of our lunch. Teresa is a beautiful woman with an alluring smile that made me feel as if I’d been part of her family for decades. We were directed to dip her fresh-baked warm bread into dishes of olive oil, a first pressed creation named mosto, made with olives from her own groves in nearby Garda.

The oil was green and fresh with a fragrance more seductive than the finest Parisian perfumeries. To tell you the truth, it was the most delicious olive oil I’d ever tasted. I was inclined to drink it directly from the bottle.

I was instructed not to shake the bottle of the creamy unfiltered oil. I figured having the sediment that lay at the bottom of the bottle mixed with the oil would enhance its flavor, but those who purported to know better dissuaded me.

The lunch was in the style tipica Bresciana, that is, typical of the Brescian region. We began with an antipasto selection of sausage, salami, loaves of bread, marinated onions with finely grated parmesan cheese and fresh aromatic unpasteurized gorgonzola cheese that oozed honey-like with ripeness and tangy flavor.

The next course included meat-stuffed ravioli with truffles soaked in truffle oil that were absolutely ethereal, accompanied by warm polenta with mushrooms. Usually made from corn, as was ours, polenta is also made from buckwheat or chestnut flour and is a traditional accompaniment with meat dishes.

The main dish was a traditional beef presentation, prepared by gently poaching the beef in water for three hours or so, then pouring on it a sauce made with olive oil, capers, garlic, anchovies and parmesan cheese. The word “fabulous” fails to do justice to the preparation.

Wine graced the table, including a Marsadri Gropello Garda Classico, a red wine made from the same kinds of grapes grown in the vineyards I saw on the property – primarily cabernet franc and syrah.

All the wines were made locally in the Franciacorta region in Lombardy, producer of its finest wines. It is a small geographic area to the southwest and is favored by a unique micro climate influenced by the cool consistent temperatures due to the two large lakes, Garda and Iseo.

Terre di Franciacorta DOC applies to a sturdy red from Cabernet, Barbera and Nebbiolo grapes, as well as to white wines from Pinot Bianco and Chardonnay grapes. Only wines from select vineyards in the zone qualify as Franciacorta DOCG, the highest rated appellation. According to Italian wine law, Franciacorta wine must be aged for at least 18 months and vintage Franciacorta wine for 30 months. Although not of the Piedmont and Tuscan level of elegance, Franciacorta produces quite respectable still wines at fair prices.

Franciacorta's reputation has been built on the outstanding bottle-fermented sparkling wines fashioned by select estates. They are constructed by the same method utilized in France’s Champagne region. The wine is fermented in the bottles, rather than in a vat. This leads to smaller, more plentiful bubbles and a more subtle taste. Lo Sparviere, Beretta’s vineyard, for example, produces a sparkling rosè that I rate as outstanding. Nearly one-third of Italy's bottle-fermented sparkling wine is produced in Franciacorta.

As our luncheon drew to a close, and as if we had not already red-lined our gustatory capacities, the meal ended with a selection of grappas, made as a byproduct of wine where the alcohol content is substantially elevated. Grappa is not to my liking, in that I find its fragrance similar to that of gasoline and tastes about the same, based on an accidental ingestion of the latter when filling my lawnmower. Prudently I devoted my last caloric ingestion to the wonderful wines and to the memorable gorgonzola.

History of Arzaga Drugulo

My education on the history of Arzaga Drugulo had begun the prior evening. Me and Paolo attended a jewelry exhibition presented by Roberto Ferrata and his beautiful and effervescent wife, Nicoletta, at a gallery in Bresica.

The exhibit featured the stunning work of internationally acclaimed artist David Webb. Many of the displayed pieces, I was told, were from Elizabeth Taylor’s expansive collection of Mr. Webb’s works. Gold and silver necklaces and bracelets encrusted with diamonds and rare gemstones abounded.

The modern Arzaga Drugulo hunting club was founded in 1926 from land belonging to the Della Quara family. Presently there are about forty members. In the 1950’s, Carlo Beretta was an owner with Roberto’s father and hunted there often with his father and with Giuseppe Zoli.

The hunting preserve is located in the village Soiano del Lago in the province of Brescia. The territory extends to the edge of Lake Garda. The terrain is predominantly hilly and the vegetation is comprised primarily of natural woods and some agriculture acreage used mostly for corn and wheat production. Vineyards and groves of olive trees constitute part of the property.

The first concession released for the Reserve of Hunting Arzaga Drugolo is dated 1786, assigned by the Venetian Republic to the Count Averoldi, then owner of the estate. The concession was valid for only a few years and was revoked with the arrival of Napoleon at the beginning of the 1800’s.

In 1926 the Count Averoldi (a descendant of the earlier count) received from the King of Italy again the hunting concession on this estate. The concession was held for ten years when in 1936 he passed it to Mario Ferrata, Roberto’s father.

The Ferrata family had been owners of one of Italy’s three most prestigious arms factories, Domenico Sabatti, from 1850 to the early 1900’s, when they sold the firm to Beretta. Hunting has always been a passion for the Ferrata family and, it was thus logical that Mario enlarged the estate and improved the terrain to make it more hospitable for game birds.

After Mario’s death in 1987, Roberto took over the company and the property and is the current manager. The estate extends for around 800 hectares (about 2,000 acres) and is divided in three zones of hunting of around 250 hectares each. It is possible to hunt hare, pheasant and red legged partridge. Hunting groups using rifles are generally limited to four people in each hunting zone.

The preserve offers driven shooting on special occasions, where groups are limited to six to eight hunters. Typically the drive will extend two to three days with three to six hundred pheasant and partridge available.

During its 80 years Italy’s most prestigious names in the gun trade such as Beretta, Bosis, Zoli and Pedersoli as well as nobility and diplomats have hunted as Arzaga Drugolo. Today the firm is international and entertains people from all the parts of the world.

In his parting words to me at the art gallery the night before, as we sipped a Franciacorta sparkling wine and enjoyed a slice of one of Lombardy’s marvelous cheeses, Roberto shared snippets of his philosophy about his club.

“It’s like my personal hunting club. That is, it’s like a hunting home. I can share it with friends and with people that respect hunting and its traditions.”

I asked what drives him to invest so much time and money in the club. “We are stewards for future generations. If we do not preserve what is beautiful, then who will?”

Arzaga Drugulo and Italy’s hunting tradition are in good hands.

Additional information:

Zoli

http://www.zoli.it/index_usa.php

Arzaga Drugulo: www.arzagadrugolo.it

Where to stay:

Albergo Trattoria Marcheno

http://www.hotelmarcheno.it/uk/hotel.htm

info@hotelmarcheno.it

It was one of Montana’s best-kept secrets nestled away in the hill country along the Madison River. The ranch opened to the public back in 2007, but it didn’t hold its grand opening until early 2008 when all the finishing touches were completed. The ranch is a 5000 acre deeded property with about an additional 2000 acres in leased land. Some of the land, only about 1,500 acres, is farmed but the majority of it is in a natural state for wildlife.

There is catch-and-release fishing on the ranch but you also have the Madison River only a few minutes away. There is upland bird hunting with pheasant, chucker and all the native huns and sharp-tail grouse available. They also have deer and elk hunting available on a limited basis. There are many others things to do including hiking, horseback riding, wildlife watching and wildlife photography. It’s not unusual to see herds of several hundred deer or elk on the ranch. In winter you can snowshoe or cross country ski. When you get into the high country you can see the four mountain ranges that surround the ranch area. It’s a beautiful area where you can truly relax and unwind.

The majority of the people that come here are the residents of Bozeman, Montana area who want to get away from it all and relax in an Idyllic atmosphere. I always thought if you lived in Bozeman you already got away from it all. But you could also find a couple from Atlanta or Zurich, Switzerland enjoying the outstanding atmosphere of the ranch and the lodge. This is a really unique ranch with a totally different outlook about it being a place to stay. It can be a bed and breakfast, or it can be a hunting lodge, or a fishing lodge or a dude ranch. It can be anything you want it to be. And it can be all yours. They aren’t trying to keep all the rooms full all the time, just the opposite. It’s what they call low impact lodging. They want you to have a really unique experience while you are there for whatever reason. You can be by yourself or just a couple. The lodge will hold about eight to twelve people depending on the mix. And it can be all yours for a day, a week or a month, it’s up to you.

The lodge is really a work of art, from the timber and glass exterior to the hard wood floors, marble counters, luxurious furniture and game heads from around the world adorning the walls. It reflects the personality of its owners and is one of the finer places I’ve ever had the pleasure to stay at.

You can pick one of their guest packages or design your own. Instead of the typical B&B package which includes your breakfast, you could do your owning cooking of dinner in their state-of-the-art kitchen or have their gourmet chef come in and cook your dinner right before you every evening. I don’t think you’ll ever find another place like this where they consider your experience as a greater value than having all the rooms full.

My first experience there after it just opened in 2007 was a real surprise. I came up from Idaho to do some bird hunting and met several hunters from Bozeman who I hunted with and had a great time. They were there for the day just to bird hunt while I was going to be spending several days there doing different things in addition to bird hunting.

 

We had a fun-filled day with some great bird hunting. We also had some good laughs about the birds we missed. We had a pheasant that was hit hard, but not dead and all four of us were looking for it very intensely as were the two dogs. Something caught my attention and I looked up at what I thought was a large flock of song birds, they didn’t look that large. Someone else also saw them and didn’t think anything about them as well. When the birds were right in front and above us, we realized it was a huge covey of huns. All the guns started to move and there was a lot of gunfire at the going-away birds, but not a bird dropped from the sky. We all looked at each other somewhat dumbfounded and burst out laughing. It took awhile to get over what had just happened. We did finally find the one we were looking for. We all ended up with a good mix of birds. Each one of us had either three or four birds.

The next time I was at the ranch was early in January of 2010. We just had over a foot of snow in Idaho Falls and a few days of single digit temperatures and when I got up to around Ennis, Montana, the temperature was 34 degrees, the skies were clear and the roads were clear and dry. I was expecting a foot of snow or more at the ranch and the ground was basically clear and dry. After a quick, small lunch, Chris, the ranch manager, and I headed out to one of the hunting areas with his dog, Katie. In the time since I was here last, Katie had matured into a first-class hunting dog.

We headed out to one of the areas that had very deep cover for the birds. After some walking, Katie went on point as Chris and I walked a little closer. The cock finally couldn’t take it any longer and tried to make his escape while Chris and I started to mount our guns. Chris got the first shot off and hit the bird but it didn’t go down and when the bird got clear of Chris I took my shot and hit the bird as well but it still kept going. We saw where it landed and backtracked to where the bird was and Katie quickly got the birds scent and went on point.

When the bird took off it looked like it was just hanging there and when I shot the bird it took a couple of somersaults in the air before it hit the ground for the last time.

During the rest of the afternoon hunt I got three more birds, but one got away. It was hit hard but managed to maintain some gliding flight for awhile. We went to look for it and could not find it after seeing where it landed and searching for some fifteen minutes. After we started back to the truck Katie picked up a scent and took off on a diagonal run while Chris and I stayed on track to the truck. When Katie got to the base of the hill we saw her pick something up and then drop it and then came running back to us. Chris and I both thought the same thing. The bird we were just looking for didn’t go into the heavy cover where it landed; it doubled back to the hill close to where I shot it and died there. Thanks to Katie, I ended up with the four birds I shot.

 

Being that I was the only guest at the ranch, I decided to soak up some of the ambience of the lodge and get some writing done. The chef was coming in that evening to cook dinner for Chris and I and I knew it was going to be a grand and memorable dinner. Chris himself is an excellent chef, so when “the chef” comes in you know it’s going to be even more impressive.

I was not disappointed. Tiffany started us off with a delicious squash, carrot and potato soup that was out of this world. Our salad was light and very tasty with some citrus that was a delight. The entrée was pheasant with a red wine and fig reduction glaze and polenta, and was without a doubt the very best pheasant I ever had; Chris agreed. And I have a few good recipes for pheasant myself. The dessert was as exceptional. It was a roasted pear sorbet which I have never had before and will never forget it was so delicious.

The following day Chris and I went out to shoot some clays.  They have five automatic Promatic traps set up in some interesting terrain.  They have a formal shooting station for each trap, but Chris and I tried to make it more interesting and fun. We also shot between two stations so we could shoot report and true pairs off of two stations. On stations four and five we had the most fun. Standing 10 yards above station four, which was a fast left-to right quartering bird that you couldn’t dally on. Station five was a high incomer arching right to left that was always in transition. Four was the harder bird to hit so we tried report pairs to start and we both accomplished getting the pair. Then we went for true pairs and we both accomplished that after a few misses.  Then we got ridiculous. We shot them in reverse. There were a lot of misses but we were able to get a pair and Chris’s second bird, the one quartering away looked like it was in China, and he still got it. We sure hooted and hollered and high fived on that one.

Grey Cliffs Ranch is a great experience in itself, but when you add the outstanding food served there by either Chris or Tiffany it really becomes a truly grand and memorable event. To book your fun experience or adventure call 406-285-6512 or go to: www.greycliffsranch.com

A year ago I finally returned to some of my old haunts for hunting grouse in Minnesota and Wisconsin. It was a trip long delayed because of the loss of a good friend some years ago, Ed Schierer. Ed and I met in Colorado Springs at the Broadmore Hotel in April of 1995. I was there doing a story on the resort and shooting facility and he and Michael Murphy were conducting a shooting school on the very nice shooting grounds of the Broadmore at that time. We decided to all get together for dinner the next day at a cabin they owned up in the mountains. We grilled some great steaks, drank some good beer and talked about the great bird hunting in different parts of the states.

I mentioned to Ed that what I missed the most in living in New Mexico at the time, was the great grouse hunting in Minnesota and Wisconsin. It turned out that it was Ed’s passion as well. Later that evening he told me that I’ll be his guest for two weeks come that fall for grouse hunting. He mentioned the grouse count has been going up and it should be a peak year for grouse hunting. He said that I should call him in late September or early October to find out how the trees were doing.

When I did call Ed, he mentioned it hadn’t been cold enough to have the trees drop all their leaves as yet, so he was going to Canada to hunt grouse up there. He said I should call back the last week of October or the first week of November when he’ll be back.

Summer never seemed to end, as I was so looking forward to the hunt with Ed. When the time came, I gave Ed a call and Virginia answered. She said, “haven’t you heard, Ed disappeared up in Canada.” “They have been looking for him for over a week and they haven’t found him, even the Royal Air Force was looking for him with Infra-red.” To this day they haven’t found Ed. Needless to say, I didn’t go grouse hunting back in the Midwest that year.

As the years slipped by, I kept telling myself I’ve got to go back and do some grouse hunting as it’s been a dream of mine for some years. A couple of years ago I finally got myself a dog that was a good companion and a bird dog. A Viszla named Jack, who was mister personality plus. Wherever I went with Jack, we made friends, or I should say Jack made friends.

Jack really only had two modes, play with me or pet me. He should have been a bald headed dog he was always petted so much. With Jack at my side, I felt the time was right to head back to the Midwest and do some grouse hunting in remembrance of Ed. I decided to do a trip and hunt both Minnesota and Wisconsin.

In the past, I had hunted northern Minnesota, but I wanted to try something new and contacted the Rochester, MN Convention and Visitors Bureau in the southern part of the state. They sent me a wealth of information on grouse hunting in the southern part of the state along with a listing of places to stay in Rochester, restaurants, points of interest and plenty of maps to find my way along with some Department of Natural Resources information. They were very thorough.  They even got me a very good rate at the Kahler Hotel that allowed dogs and hooked me up with an excellent guide by the name of Dan Butterfass

I contacted Dan and arraigned to meet him in the hotel lobby at 8:00 AM the day after I arrived. As I waited for Dan to show up, Jack was busy making friends.  When Dan arrived, he advised me we’ll start with the most distant place to hunt for grouse so that he can show me some of the other places where we’ll hunt during the week.  Many of the places he pointed out were some of the high bluff areas along the Zumbro River where the state was protecting the native prairie grasses. It was beautiful country and it was a pleasant drive of under an hour.

The first place we went out was just off the highway and up a gentle dirt road that meandered back into some heavy cover. Jack and the other dog got along well and were out looking for grouse that Dan and I could shoot. The first shot taken by Dan was a Woodcock that he got. The dogs flushed a couple of grouse from the sound of it, but I never got a good look at them because of the heavy cover, and Dan didn’t see them either. A little later, a grouse flushed close to me and I had a good view and dropped it on the first shot.  Dan also got a grouse a few minutes after mine. About that time it was almost noon and we decided to have a snack and feed the dogs as we relaxed and enjoyed the river scenery.

Dan explained how we would make a loop through the timber and end up down by the car. It wasn’t too long before Dan had another woodcock and I ended up getting another grouse on the way back. By the time we got back to the car we each had another grouse. It was pretty good for the first day out in some grand country to explore. The dogs did their job and had a good time as well.

That evening I was pretty tired being the first day out and I decided to stay close to the hotel and have dinner. Right around the corner from the hotel was Victoria’s Ristorante and Wine Bar. As soon as I opened the door and walked in I knew I picked the right place because of the fantastic aromas floating throughout the restaurant. Whenever I go to a good Italian or German restaurant, and they have veal on the menu that’s what I order. I had veal Piccata and was not disappointed. It was a grand meal served in a grand style with large portions and flavors that make you ask for more. Their wine selection was excellent as was the ambience of the restaurant and great staff. (Victoria’s is at 7 First Ave. SW and they can be reached at 507-280-6232.) The other place you have to eat at in Rochester is Jasper’s Alsatian Bistro and Wine Bar at 14 Historic Third Street, Rochester, MN, (507-280-6446). It’s like stepping back in time and having a unique dinner with flavors from the old world that are outstanding.

The next four days with Dan picking the spots for hunting grouse were fantastic. I don’t know who had more fun the dogs or us. We had good hunting and got plenty of birds every day except for one where the state DNR tore up the ground for a fire break to protect the prairie grass. It had to have been within the last week and we didn’t understand why they did it during grouse season. We were both very upset about that. And it didn’t surprise us when we didn’t flush any birds there. The grouse hunting in the southern part of the state was great and I’d recommend it to anyone. Dan really knew a lot of good spots and we had a great time together and the weather was perfect every day. Dan is not only an excellent hunting guide, but as you roll down the highway he’ll fill you in on all the important history and information on the areas you’re passing through. Rochester is a good place to headquarter and was a good jumping off place for hunting or sightseeing as well.

First, I feed the dogs – then I get a chance to eat.

After Rochester, I headed up to the northwestern corner of Wisconsin around Yellow Lake and the town of Webster where my dad had a place. I had hunted there for many years before and after I got out of the service. There were always plenty of grouse in the woods there.

The next morning I headed out to one of my favorite spots for Grouse with Jack. The weather looked threatening, but I decided to go anyhow. We were in the woods for just about a half an hour when Jack flushed the first grouse. It took two shots because of the heavy cover, but I got it. About twenty minutes later Jack got another two birds up but I was only able to get one. The hunting was as I remembered it years ago and Jack was doing a great job. It was getting close to lunch time when the first drops of rain started to fall. We headed back to the SUV and got there before the heavens split open and it really started to pour. It was only about a twenty minute drive back to the Heartwood Conference Center where I was staying.

It may not sound like I was on a hunting trip when you’re staying at a conference center, but this place had the best location and a variety of lodging, from motel-like rooms, to lodge rooms and cabins like the oneI was staying in. It was also great because they allowed dogs and there was plenty of room for Jack to run around. It also had a complete kitchen so you could stay in and cook or go out to one of the many good restaurants in the area.

It continued to rain and drizzle for the next four days and I had run out of time. It was a shame I couldn’t get any more hunting in because of the bad weather, but that’s the way it is at times. My dream still isn’t complete so I made myself a promise I’ll go back for another week or two within the next two or three years.

For more information you can contact the following:

Kahler Grand Hotel
20 SW Second Avenue
Rochester, MN 55902
800-533-1655

 

Heartwood Conference Center & Resort
N10884 Hoinville Rd.
Trego, WI
715-466-6300

 

Rochester CVB
800-634-8277
www.rochestercvb.org

 

The Rochester Tour Co.
Attn: Dan Butterfass
503 14th Ave. SW
Rochester, MN 55902
507-421-0573
dbutterfass@charter.net
www.rochestermntours.com

Jerry Sinkovec is a freelance outdoor and travel photojournalist who writes for over 45 different publications nationally and internationally. Jerry is also designing shooting clothing and accessories for Wild Hare Intl.  He is the shooting and travel editor for Outdoors Now. He is also the director of the Instinctive Target Interception Shotgun Shooting School headquartered in Idaho Falls, Idaho. He has been teaching for the last 20 years, and has been endorsed by Browning in Utah. He conducts classes in all the western states. His address is: I. T. I. Shotgun Shooting School, 5045 Brennan Bend, Idaho Falls, ID 83401. He can be reached at: 208-523-1545, or online at itishooting@msn.com or http://www.itishooting.com.