Tuesday Thicket and I headed up north to try several coverts again hoping for flight birds. The first stop was at the Muth covert. A beautiful stand of aspen which often holds a bird or two. Yesterday it was empty.
The next stop was at the Pheasant Ridge covert. Last year Emma pointed a hen pheasant along the gas well road that runs along the top of the ridge. Yesterday Thicket went on point in the goldenrod that grows along the road and I kicked up another pheasant, this one a rooster. It dropped at my shot then ran off the road with Thicket in hot pursuit. I found Thicket with her body stretched half way under a huge log and when I got down on my hands and knees I spied the rooster buried in the leaves beneath the log.
We hunted back up the hollow through heavy cuttings searching for a grouse but found nothing.
We tried one more covert the Brady with no luck and with aching legs called it a day.
It was a day filled with highs and lows. Thicket's pheasant pointed handsomely was the first pheasant she had ever smelled so I was very pleased, but the thought of all the wonderful cover we hunted through without any bird contacts was depressing and I felt sad that the only bird we found was an "artificial" one.
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