Wingshooting

Selecting and enjoying a great dog that also happens to be a Great Gun Dog is made simpler and a lot more fun if you follow one golden rule: Be honest and realistic about managing your expectations.

Morning dawned bright, clear, and crisp in western North Dakota as I fumbled through a storage box in the bed of my beaten, old two-wheel-drive Ford Ranger pick-up. It’s not much to look at, but it carries a lot for little gas money, getting me to places I love to visit. Out amongst frosted sunflowers a rooster crowed, not the barnyard variety. My pulse quickened. Somewhere further, another chimed in as if to remind the first he was still there too. Their banter reminded me of why I love this place so much. Yep, I was home, even if I don’t actually reside here.

Shooting doves is an economy of scale.
A mourning dove weighs about 4 ounces. A Eurasian collared dove weighs about 5.3 ounces, and a white-winged dove weighs about 5.4 ounces. Hurling 1½ ounce of lead out one end, coupled with the recoil of a 12-gauge shotgun on the other end, is way out of scale for the task.

Nebraska seems to garner less attention than its neighbors to the north and south. But that’s part of the charm. South Dakota has more pheasants, but Kansas holds more quail and the Dakotas have plenty of prairie grouse. The annual waterfowl migration passes through all four. However, Nebraska often produces good hunting for both upland birds and waterfowl simultaneously, and that’s the cherry on the sundae.

I’m not sure who first called it a Grouse Safari. It might have been Ed. But I do think it’s fitting. Just like hunters travel greater distances to pursue big game in Africa, a group of Southern Appalachian grouse hunters travelling several thousand miles to hunt grouse is an appropriate moniker. It’s something friends and I have been doing for about 20 years now.