tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51779508937722605812024-03-13T05:43:35.939-07:00Living with BirddogsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger448125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-28878092853546680552023-10-18T15:01:00.010-07:002023-10-19T11:53:56.134-07:00Montana - the right place for a young bird dog<p> When you have done all your basic yard training and started stop to flush with pigeons you need to move to wild birds if you want a bird dog. Rock and Cap are now derby age. They really needed the prairie experience and they got it this fall.</p><p>This is Rock with my friend Pete taking a break after working a large covey of sharp-tailed grouse in SE Montana. <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfDdeVkD2zVlLUWXAAs7Zgmw0u5xOaClLWWa2BC1dRJbdOlHigp2hO9kfqt_T6QNMdS2EkAqgOmDoYMaHXIjX_Osij6uDfZT5N666cOHA_zOLAWOK-0ldIWl8NqbK6Q6BtYmJYA-W8_2nQ5U4oW_xgZKGyHfz1SCzRir_lXAtWOkcx1yGYTlHhuulotOs/s4032/Rock%20&%20Pete%202023%20MT.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfDdeVkD2zVlLUWXAAs7Zgmw0u5xOaClLWWa2BC1dRJbdOlHigp2hO9kfqt_T6QNMdS2EkAqgOmDoYMaHXIjX_Osij6uDfZT5N666cOHA_zOLAWOK-0ldIWl8NqbK6Q6BtYmJYA-W8_2nQ5U4oW_xgZKGyHfz1SCzRir_lXAtWOkcx1yGYTlHhuulotOs/w396-h297/Rock%20&%20Pete%202023%20MT.jpg" width="396" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-79541592126955078942023-03-24T19:09:00.000-07:002023-03-24T19:09:50.800-07:00"Lords of the Fly"<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4aaTYvsjI92B9BLveGqR20rh8ArtihyJ2wV3hv0ZBAfIKR9UQrZW-6KXnMxqaIpBPuRx6N3zYjJ0Nw8YcECMzBj24DeFskVwOtnh1UkRHoc4eZIRLtlSjgqiSXK7N_xKJbC6fHBhDb1cSYAIotbnIEUJagvllmLJOn6c6EOWaMfMQTOMXVoV_fT5YKw/s3984/IMG_5928.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3984" data-original-width="2988" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4aaTYvsjI92B9BLveGqR20rh8ArtihyJ2wV3hv0ZBAfIKR9UQrZW-6KXnMxqaIpBPuRx6N3zYjJ0Nw8YcECMzBj24DeFskVwOtnh1UkRHoc4eZIRLtlSjgqiSXK7N_xKJbC6fHBhDb1cSYAIotbnIEUJagvllmLJOn6c6EOWaMfMQTOMXVoV_fT5YKw/w300-h400/IMG_5928.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>In "Lords of the Fly" Monte Burke brings the history of tarpon fly angling and the biggest names in the game to the page in this great accounting of the fish, men, gear, lifestyle, and the fishery that make the amazing sport. A spectacular page turner...</p>Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-78551186825767513002023-03-21T19:56:00.000-07:002023-03-21T19:56:52.587-07:00Bird Dogs<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHUD3hSJszVFU5LHaio5AC-A4R02_BbvXfS71vC5-Zct8O0OKdWh2hisQ9jR9iFPU1ksJuB62TLXnssk6_ILVlEhD5llzaZasyMwN5u_WvIL5HeweGcuS98Vd4aux9wb0kMPiyCjYpLsZvYb5qbW_qJtej7Qt_X6MkSgQvbopotbUKGxzz-3gkf0peJA/s2598/IMG_5912.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2598" data-original-width="1810" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHUD3hSJszVFU5LHaio5AC-A4R02_BbvXfS71vC5-Zct8O0OKdWh2hisQ9jR9iFPU1ksJuB62TLXnssk6_ILVlEhD5llzaZasyMwN5u_WvIL5HeweGcuS98Vd4aux9wb0kMPiyCjYpLsZvYb5qbW_qJtej7Qt_X6MkSgQvbopotbUKGxzz-3gkf0peJA/w279-h400/IMG_5912.jpg" width="279" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">Val and Jill hunted hard and showed some wear at the end of this hunt; bloody-tipped tails and teets from busting brush, hocks and forearms chaffed from running through ice-crusted snow. Conditions were cold and cruddy; hunting was in about 8-inches of snow which had fallen a couple nights prior, thawed a little the previous day, settled, then froze and developed a good crust overnight.</div><div style="text-align: left;">We didn't start hunting until around noon because temps had dropped into the single digits that morning; temps while hunting were initially in the low to mid twenties and at the end of the hunt started dipping back into the teens.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Initially we hunted some stand-alone tule patches and clumps of whitetop, but didn't see any pheasant tracks, point, or put-up any birds. Things started to change the deeper we got into the property; I started seeing tracks and the occasional wild-flushing (200 yards distant) bird. I marked where a couple birds had landed and hunted the girls into that cover; this resulted in a couple points, and wild flushes, but no shots fired; the scent and birds in the air put a little spark in the girls hunt though, and the game was on.</div><div style="text-align: left;">We hunted into a huge patch of pepperweed, tracks were everywhere trailing into heavy clumps of brush, and the birds began popping distantly; in five minutes we put ten birds in the air, mostly roosters. In short order Jill was on a hot trail, having two barren stands in rapid succession with great intensity; eyes staring distantly, head and tail high-and-tight and not flinching as I went in to flush on both occasions. A hundred-yards further I saw her stack-up again; this time Val was off to her right and staunch as well. I made a dash toward both dogs and about thirty yards out the first rooster went crossing left, and at the shot the second rooster lifted and went crossing right...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1JS1jJPQsD-svdkFLM8cQroSjxIIa0st8Sp5wLo4UQw4BjMWp7Sna-biOQOp8_aGYetEXLF2VPQU3_doR3TyX3xC8Nivnng_9uUNLQi7gQnetW2WE6Ha8zKD3-DxGYfbVbYkYbm5NQ8Av1O-OyiosYlkgykAty7fXVHThf5zkSclSJ1AViSYNACtQ8A/s3243/IMG_5546.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div><p></p>Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-60067481863071660872022-12-20T18:40:00.000-08:002022-12-20T18:40:30.869-08:00The Jester<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyGBqITJZBiF8zr0YfC5Hj_8l_JFELF_pZ_xie4VG3s7sLMbuq90iGUiOGTJLlYqujfGK-lMExjyPnun3gPaKxf2pUv0zMW4wYRbaZa-T3hwSFbh8Z3ahQ3rrf-1JKwp-ZRzXTRARCez9Mpma8iXo9NlVVslTOsCTFwHHSBqsWRr3qGfnvg59vX3aeUw/s3607/IMG_5544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3607" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyGBqITJZBiF8zr0YfC5Hj_8l_JFELF_pZ_xie4VG3s7sLMbuq90iGUiOGTJLlYqujfGK-lMExjyPnun3gPaKxf2pUv0zMW4wYRbaZa-T3hwSFbh8Z3ahQ3rrf-1JKwp-ZRzXTRARCez9Mpma8iXo9NlVVslTOsCTFwHHSBqsWRr3qGfnvg59vX3aeUw/s320/IMG_5544.jpg" width="268" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <p></p>Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-45981893981564193952022-12-17T08:16:00.000-08:002022-12-17T08:16:39.242-08:00"Doubling Down"...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSG0QPn9UWGuqnkEH66fHehb7HSln9AajuJ85lOlBiaxSHWS5VWtTOLsaHTcJ_Z_hQH_CdbqrlvMjVkXh8TttFwHWN51RClQ6H03rZwygus2awfOUQbDVU0yQC8Et5brYOoJiD4XjbhBNA5G3W0bddQmj5KA7HFGgIDrryD7OUjeSxzyXsOpI19xCW9w/s975/Mouthful-of-feathers-Temp-cover1024_1.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="975" data-original-width="650" height="347" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSG0QPn9UWGuqnkEH66fHehb7HSln9AajuJ85lOlBiaxSHWS5VWtTOLsaHTcJ_Z_hQH_CdbqrlvMjVkXh8TttFwHWN51RClQ6H03rZwygus2awfOUQbDVU0yQC8Et5brYOoJiD4XjbhBNA5G3W0bddQmj5KA7HFGgIDrryD7OUjeSxzyXsOpI19xCW9w/w257-h347/Mouthful-of-feathers-Temp-cover1024_1.webp" width="257" /></a></div><br />In an August 2, 2022 blog Greg McReynolds, Mouthfil of Feathers (mouthfuloffeathers.com), announced they were ..."doubling down on the blog, ...recruiting new contributors, and printing the book." The book, Mouthful of Feathers - Upland in the West, was released originally as an e-book and, is no longer in print. However the print edition, Mouthful of Feathers - Upland in America, is due to be released the summer of 2023. To pre-order go to the Mouthful of Feathers blog or mouthfuloffeathers.bigcartel.com.<div>As promised, the group has "doubled down." The print edition of the book is in the works, new contributors have been recruited, the reading is fabulous!<br /><p></p><p><br /></p></div>Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-86364924224352129722022-06-15T09:02:00.002-07:002022-06-15T09:03:48.047-07:00Double the fun... two new pups!<p><br /><br /> I have lost two of my setters in the past six months... always tough when an old friend passes on.</p><p>But a friend in Texas gave me two well-bred setter pups. Funny how these things work out.</p><p>Here are Cap and Rock at one year old.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-YFwtn8o6lrlFtGWMJWFD8mm3nBuyMUTtBEjg5DXabmBptjUChf01D3CGZ7nY_Wg7g_i7jGFl5hd8Ap4aHOBUalY5z0NJA81qJACtD-Dg5kYp1UkP2UsR9Fb3agHKc57NQDd5vg91Jj-dhSU_DzB0x3NnRqiLxYpR_4iO7KOTCBCZEeMaYcwzZ0Vz/s1266/Cap%20in%20MT.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="585" data-original-width="1266" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-YFwtn8o6lrlFtGWMJWFD8mm3nBuyMUTtBEjg5DXabmBptjUChf01D3CGZ7nY_Wg7g_i7jGFl5hd8Ap4aHOBUalY5z0NJA81qJACtD-Dg5kYp1UkP2UsR9Fb3agHKc57NQDd5vg91Jj-dhSU_DzB0x3NnRqiLxYpR_4iO7KOTCBCZEeMaYcwzZ0Vz/w400-h185/Cap%20in%20MT.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqztk5OvE2bU9BbvKEg3sF89gEqo1Dt2dX7YS6wPdNq4k4DTm46AeAcqGEgH7yA6QRGMIOxcxSez0Xa4y5xH0Knlra0orCHSe_8wgNyBrLE2Qg3EgswUh697AabkRzyLcXgfV7NIQVRfUZ9ARiibtp9B-IrFEn4RqkLimufF0Cjkhp_pW7wyYley8D/s1266/Rock%20in%20MT.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqztk5OvE2bU9BbvKEg3sF89gEqo1Dt2dX7YS6wPdNq4k4DTm46AeAcqGEgH7yA6QRGMIOxcxSez0Xa4y5xH0Knlra0orCHSe_8wgNyBrLE2Qg3EgswUh697AabkRzyLcXgfV7NIQVRfUZ9ARiibtp9B-IrFEn4RqkLimufF0Cjkhp_pW7wyYley8D/s1266/Rock%20in%20MT.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="585" data-original-width="1266" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqztk5OvE2bU9BbvKEg3sF89gEqo1Dt2dX7YS6wPdNq4k4DTm46AeAcqGEgH7yA6QRGMIOxcxSez0Xa4y5xH0Knlra0orCHSe_8wgNyBrLE2Qg3EgswUh697AabkRzyLcXgfV7NIQVRfUZ9ARiibtp9B-IrFEn4RqkLimufF0Cjkhp_pW7wyYley8D/w400-h185/Rock%20in%20MT.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-22090460560205125322022-02-27T21:57:00.001-08:002022-03-08T18:45:59.063-08:00Prairie Blues<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMqTW_DGBPa1HKWxnEZq6L4faMT44ikZ9QjA6ztL-mB33gH0Elyv-CQ_pXL9NKQR59VwBbG2M1RC7fCH4F1nXlVFd-fiWFeirMQkCsw1Ll7OW2v_sO-pxVxG5QxbnmaBhxvaTUojp48zXK9AWy8KZgXpMxJ-gRZM9h_kM4S0faFTQ7Ww9BjsdEmH_Rdw=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMqTW_DGBPa1HKWxnEZq6L4faMT44ikZ9QjA6ztL-mB33gH0Elyv-CQ_pXL9NKQR59VwBbG2M1RC7fCH4F1nXlVFd-fiWFeirMQkCsw1Ll7OW2v_sO-pxVxG5QxbnmaBhxvaTUojp48zXK9AWy8KZgXpMxJ-gRZM9h_kM4S0faFTQ7Ww9BjsdEmH_Rdw=w400-h256" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2019 Southwestern Championship, Johnson Ranch, Trail City, SD</td></tr></tbody></table><br />You're rolling in at sunset with a truck of restless dogs<p></p><p>And the whistling wind comes, sounding rather scary.</p><p>Unlock and open camp, then light the lanterns and the stove.</p><p>And we'll face another summer on the prairie.</p><p><br /></p><p>Tomorrow we will cull them. And you'll say your string's the worst,</p><p>But, of course, it's far from extraordinary.</p><p>Some mornings on the check cord and some hunting of young chicks,</p><p>And they'll carry all their days the mark of "Prairie."</p><p><br /></p><p>You'll wrench an arm - and bounce - when your brainless nag departs</p><p>After dropping you kerplunk - (you were unwary)</p><p>A skunk gets you from one side and a porcupine the other</p><p>If you dismount haplessly upon the prairie.</p><p><br /></p><p>Your best dogs point them, too, and there's little you can do</p><p>To correct their "varmint finds" - unneccessary.</p><p>If hail and twisters lay and you find the birds today,</p><p>You may still get somethiing done out on the prairie.</p><p><br /></p><p>The summer speeds away and you feel you've come to naught.</p><p>Then your dogs show form that's due next January.</p><p>When the money trials come up, you don't place a single pup,</p><p>So you fold your camp and vow to shun the prairie.</p><p><br /></p><p>But, dreaming, longing nightly for the blue flax fields in bloom,</p><p>When your June time state side life is sedintary,</p><p>You'll jam the truck with gear and set your wheels for northern roads,</p><p>Towards the hopes, dreams - and mirages - of the prairie.</p><p><br /></p><p>From the book "The Unforgettables and Other True Fables" by Bill Allen. The book is now in it's third printing and available at www.strideaway.com.</p>Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-23283223561264308682021-12-21T09:58:00.000-08:002021-12-21T09:58:37.731-08:00Long time coming<p>It has been quite a while since I posted on Living with Bird Dogs. If you missed the posts, sorry. If you didn't miss them, then no harm done.</p><p>So what's new? </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgk9DYAfM57GBxTNkACyr5ucHOCrLM3KXqXgRTsNa9_01ZarTTsZfMstx8OgDp9xSa51yXYB0gclQNnkEOjls6wBPF1jTspteMf-L2L6szQ5x0zuNVpEotHPNDqi4WfJ6DTs_JdLKlIPktHqs2rfxEdFzs5t2iGM6bDwge4ot25n-UacOG66qQ3OyUR=s4288" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4288" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgk9DYAfM57GBxTNkACyr5ucHOCrLM3KXqXgRTsNa9_01ZarTTsZfMstx8OgDp9xSa51yXYB0gclQNnkEOjls6wBPF1jTspteMf-L2L6szQ5x0zuNVpEotHPNDqi4WfJ6DTs_JdLKlIPktHqs2rfxEdFzs5t2iGM6bDwge4ot25n-UacOG66qQ3OyUR=w400-h266" width="400" /></a></div> Practically everything. I have relocated to the mountains of SE Arizona with my five setters. I had six when I arrived here two years ago, but my good old dog, Ted, died in October at 16-1/2 years old. We had a great run, but damn, i miss that dog everyday.<p></p><p>Bought a house and land bordering the Coronado National Forest. Elevation 5100 feet. A rolling piece of land dotted with oaks (several species), junipers and, of course cat's claw and brambles of many types. No barn (it burnt to the ground in 2017) so I erected a decent sized metal barn/car garage/shop to keep my boat, Jeep, Landcruisers, and dog truck. Also installed my tools and other drag-alongs from my old place.</p><p>I built a kennel room off the garage at the house with individual runs (from TK Kennels - 1st class product) and with A/C for the summer months and heat for the winter. Adjacent to the kennel is a fenced paddock for the dogs that they use daily. An acre or two with gullies, oaks, and lizards to pursue.</p><p> I acquired a pair of Atlas AT250 clay target machines with carts and voice releases, put bigger tires on the carts so they could be towed around behind the Jeep. </p><p>So this is all to say that I have sort of set the place up to suit myself.</p><p>This past summer a friend from Teaxas gave me a nice setter pup from a litter he bred. At six months now he is feeling his oats and I've been working him on the basics with a check cord - seeking some co-operation. It might be happening. Have a cage full of quail to work him on when we get to that stage. He does not need to be shown birds to build enthusiasm, as he has plenty of drive and a ton of point.</p><p> So I had promised Jared during a visit to his place last summer that I would resume posting. And I expect to provide some comments and information as convenient or when I have something to say that I think iteresting or important. I hope that you enjoy the future blog posts.<br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-9416751865145669002021-02-03T20:39:00.000-08:002021-02-03T20:39:14.452-08:00"Duel"<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g41BZvYExRo/YA490svdjiI/AAAAAAAAB2A/pf5P-UPuOK0FJEDo9EaREf0_MXmc9d17wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Duel.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g41BZvYExRo/YA490svdjiI/AAAAAAAAB2A/pf5P-UPuOK0FJEDo9EaREf0_MXmc9d17wCLcBGAsYHQ/w300-h400/Duel.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br />Mike Gaddis' "Duel on Tabernacle Mountain" is a great read. A tale of an amazing young setter, and his nemesis, a wily ruffed grouse "wisdom bird." Duel is a page-turner, a must-read for all upland bird hunters who appreciate a good bird dog, and love to see one work. The book was published in a limited edition of 200 copies; leather bound with gilded edges, and <span style="color: rgb(var(--color_11)); font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-weight: inherit; text-align: center;">presented in a one-time only, heirloom-quality, signed, numbered, and individually personalized. Find it at www.duelontabernaclemtn.com.</span><p></p>Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-90052763780238617922020-12-26T19:24:00.001-08:002020-12-26T20:00:00.982-08:00Indian Head Whiski - Jim<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c-kkc-pAYiE/X-fQj4P470I/AAAAAAAAB0A/UyHTGUhBu4kixI-_nBFprT6AfngGdW9pwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_3380.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1596" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c-kkc-pAYiE/X-fQj4P470I/AAAAAAAAB0A/UyHTGUhBu4kixI-_nBFprT6AfngGdW9pwCLcBGAsYHQ/w311-h400/IMG_3380.jpg" width="311" /></a></div>Jim is turning out to be quite a bird dog. I've had him out several times this season hunting both chukar and pheasant. Chukar seem to be a bit easier on him than these cagey old roosters. The chukar have been holding a little better, and even if they do run a little in front of the dog, you can usually put them up. When a dog points chukar you generally get some form of bird-work; even if it's chasing them across a hillside and having them flush wild on you. Roosters just seem to disappear; vanish. It's aggravating. Prior to pointing this old bird Jim had several very staunch points which had me running to the front of him and flushing like a mad man; to no avail. He was pointing with such intensity I thought a bird was there; hen or rooster I just wanted to flush him a bird. After trying to kick a bird out for a minute or so, I'd release him, and off we'd go hunting again. When this rooster hit the ground I cut Jim loose so he could get his mouth on the bird; he pounced on it, he mouthed and pawed at it, he snarfed it and got a general nose-full. Based on his reaction after reaching the bird, it seemed to be just what he needed......<p></p>Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-66475108180382026882020-12-07T17:43:00.005-08:002020-12-07T17:43:48.331-08:00Pups First Covey<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mqvxZjJlCjE/X8uwEiDwCnI/AAAAAAAAByQ/bPZAFZo_bqocsbUUBDA_1wpqtAJ06cZ3ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1371/IMG-1440%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1371" data-original-width="828" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mqvxZjJlCjE/X8uwEiDwCnI/AAAAAAAAByQ/bPZAFZo_bqocsbUUBDA_1wpqtAJ06cZ3ACLcBGAsYHQ/w241-h400/IMG-1440%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="241" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo By Holly Higgins</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">IH Pearls Blindsider (Miller's Blindsider X Pearl Again), was aquired earlier this year from Daniels Kennels, of Bronwood, Georgia."Val" has been hunted in chukar country several times now and has pointed a covey each time she has been down; a great start for a young dog. Val is showing high style on her birds and points with intensity. She's also making great progress in her yard work, roading off the ATV, and with pigeons in the bird field. Quiet in the kennel and easy to be around, Val is a nice addition to the string.</div><br /> <p></p>Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-50262005830933029182020-11-29T09:21:00.000-08:002020-11-29T09:21:00.577-08:00Daybreak<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wnYvF-aRQD4/X8PP5f7TQyI/AAAAAAAABxc/Fo--i6qhNGcwhwNBHV0vUYmz9xvoxpiNgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_3291.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wnYvF-aRQD4/X8PP5f7TQyI/AAAAAAAABxc/Fo--i6qhNGcwhwNBHV0vUYmz9xvoxpiNgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_3291.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />Brisk this morning; about 12-degrees. I had just fed the dogs a cold-morning ration of feed with warm water, thrown the horses a couple flakes each and broke the one-inch-thick sheet of ice on their water trough. Looking to the east as I headed to the house for another cup of coffee, the sun was just ready to summit the distant juniper-covered ridges; quail and coyotes were sounding-off in the distance, ravens patrolling the roads for rabbits and other varmints which had had a bad night. After that cup of coffee it'll be time to fill dog waters and do the essential kennel maintenance. So-begins another day......<p></p>Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-77999434162211243482020-11-09T20:40:00.000-08:002020-11-17T17:48:30.271-08:00My Opener<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMQUnw_vHoc/X6oSAmzUQ0I/AAAAAAAABwM/8xpBMELCxYwFmougAg2CICB_FfF8X4LdACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_3278.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMQUnw_vHoc/X6oSAmzUQ0I/AAAAAAAABwM/8xpBMELCxYwFmougAg2CICB_FfF8X4LdACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_3278.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> I generally consider November 1 the start of my upland hunting season. I'm not a fan of opening day crowds, mosquitos, pin feathers, or the heat, or snakes.... I like to run two or three dogs a day, one at a time; and in the early season, when it's hot, it's tough to do that. By November things have started to cool off, the crowds have thinned a little, and hopefully my dogs are tuned-up and ready to hunt. This past weekend there was a skiff of snow on the ground, a cool north wind, and things felt just right with a couple layers of wool up top, heavy pants and socks down below, nice gloves; perfect conditions......<p></p>Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-43656092760505603402020-10-29T22:01:00.001-07:002020-11-17T17:48:57.341-08:00Ch. Indian Head Abbigale RIP<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cjebEcVat7w/X5uSOX_WT6I/AAAAAAAABvk/llGNeRqkJ9M4h9zfwEUs8jNYqo_Rpm8bACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Ch.%2BIndian%2BHead%2BAbbigale.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cjebEcVat7w/X5uSOX_WT6I/AAAAAAAABvk/llGNeRqkJ9M4h9zfwEUs8jNYqo_Rpm8bACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h266/Ch.%2BIndian%2BHead%2BAbbigale.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p>Sired by multiple All Age Champion, Kelly Talk'n Smak and out of the pre-potent dam, Ch. Wells Fargo Mollie, Abbigale was heavy to Ch. Fiddlin Rocky Boy, top and bottom. Style and intensity on game is trademark of her Fiddler-bred predesessors, and she had a ton of it as well. Whelped on April 18, 2009, Abbigale left us September 18 of 2020. </p>Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-90553655702320433732020-07-10T20:35:00.001-07:002020-11-17T17:50:09.744-08:00Bird Dog<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D3gVoXpVSr0/XwkyWxwDOqI/AAAAAAAABsY/m0IK3z91zZsNf9Xb1l5nanlgfN6x7EyQQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_2174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1063" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D3gVoXpVSr0/XwkyWxwDOqI/AAAAAAAABsY/m0IK3z91zZsNf9Xb1l5nanlgfN6x7EyQQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_2174.JPG" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Indian Head Intrigue<br />
photo by Holly Higgins</td></tr>
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<i>BIRD DOG -</i><br />
Deep chest, slim flank, great heart to stand the pace<br />
And that unerring wizardry of scent<br />
To trail the quarry in it's secret place;<br />
Power and cunning, speed and wisdom blent -<br />
these are the immemorial gifts that came<br />
Out of forgotten time's unfathomed gulf;<br />
These are the fierce ancestral fires and flame<br />
Undimmed, unchanged still - Son of Wolf.<br />
Grave eyes, grave bearing, dignity of kings;<br />
The gentleness and trust of a child;<br />
The flawless poise that veils old savage things<br />
But half remembered from the vanished wild -<br />
These are the kingly qualities that came<br />
On unremembered fields where sports began;<br />
This is the clear glow of a steady flame<br />
Undimmed, unchanging still - Comrade of Man<br />
C.T. DavisJared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-54029039157083696702020-06-23T21:09:00.003-07:002020-11-17T17:50:33.261-08:00Days of Summer<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i8c7kyCshPs/XuWyrckEBiI/AAAAAAAABrc/7_GdJp9rEYIGU5nFjUjhjDuuoByzEJbqgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Almanor.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1079" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i8c7kyCshPs/XuWyrckEBiI/AAAAAAAABrc/7_GdJp9rEYIGU5nFjUjhjDuuoByzEJbqgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/Almanor.jpg" width="268" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Holly Higgins</td></tr>
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It's that time of year again. Time to get the dogs we hunted and field trialed last season back in to shape, give the broke dogs a tune up and get the puppies that have been pointing and chasing, broke before this fall season. It's a tough time of year to train; the weather is hot, the weeds (foxtail, cheatgrass, madusahead, speargrass) are dangerous, it's snakey, and the hours at work are generally long; time is a scarce resource. The dogs feed is being cut back to help burn off the winter layer of insulation and prepare them for early season field trials and hunts; they will typically be three- to seven-pounds heavier in the winter than in the summer; depending on the dog. Some folks like to change feeds between the high activity level seasons of fall and winter, and the lower activity level seasons of spring and summer. I've always stuck with the same feed year-round, a high quality 30/20 mix, and just regulate the once-daily ration of feed according to the dogs needs. Each dog in the kennel is different in it's daily consumption; some are easy keepers and most aren't. I have a small female that weighs in at about 36-pounds, and may be a couple pounds heavier in the winter, and a male that will go 55-pounds in winter and down to 47-pounds during field trial and bird season. Even at their heaviest, my dogs have a waistline. If hipbones and spine begin to show as they cut weight during the summer, I'll add a little feed to smooth-out the bumps. Pointers and Setters are world class athletes and need to be kept in top physical condition to do their job in the field at the highest level. High quality feed, and access to clean fresh water throughout the day are important in managing your dogs physical condition year-round.Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-73851533318163514392020-06-11T21:20:00.000-07:002020-06-11T21:20:09.900-07:00De La Valdene<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cwObcv3oBCM/XtSCtRKHeoI/AAAAAAAABq8/6Y-s1RXqZu43UhBW5t6Ye2MCqIVTfpNSgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/De%2BLa%2BValdene.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cwObcv3oBCM/XtSCtRKHeoI/AAAAAAAABq8/6Y-s1RXqZu43UhBW5t6Ye2MCqIVTfpNSgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/De%2BLa%2BValdene.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
Guy De La Valdene is mentioned several times, in Thomas McGuane's "<i>The Longest Silence, A Life In Fishing."</i> Poling Key West with McGuane, angling for bonefish, tarpon, permit (the big three), and mutton snapper among other species. A quick web search put me into a list of De La Valdene's books, and I chose "<i>Making Game...", </i>mostly because I hadn't done much reading on woodcock and the description of the contents of the book sounded interesting. This book covers a few good hunts, but also focuses on habitat, migration, the conservation of the species, and the bird as table fare. I don't know any woodcock hunters, but after reading it, I imagine this book would fit into the niche of "a must have" among the tried-and-true. Russell Chatham illustrated the book, Jim Harrison<i> </i>makes an appearence or two, you get the point..... good stuff!Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-14334365691382883602020-06-04T21:27:00.002-07:002020-07-26T21:34:30.307-07:00McGuane<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hi6P-3-UJB4/XtR811k4uRI/AAAAAAAABqw/Q8EzK-fbE544phZPLPKM_onCt8JHzMGTgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/McGuane.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hi6P-3-UJB4/XtR811k4uRI/AAAAAAAABqw/Q8EzK-fbE544phZPLPKM_onCt8JHzMGTgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/McGuane.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
"<i>The Longest Silence, A Life in Fishing,"</i> was composed by Thomas McGuane some twenty-plus years ago. His essays of both salt and freshwater angling span the globe, as McGuane pursues gamefish that most of us only dream to oneday have on the end of our outfit. Anyone that has spent any time on the water will appreciate how McGuane puts you in the moment; whether it be poling the flats of Key West in search of tarpon, permit or bonefish, or presenting a dry to a fat cutty on a gin-clear Montana stream, it's as if you're there with him, wind at your back, hauling line, presenting, and anticipating the strike. I found this book hard to put down. A great book for the spring season, when most of us are looking for a spot to wet a fly, trying to get our birddogs in order, and anticipating the upcoming fall....Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-27082659477871573422020-04-24T08:21:00.001-07:002020-04-25T09:27:00.860-07:00Stay at home! And yard-work dogs...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XSrs5MO8fC8/XpfX6CNoY1I/AAAAAAAABnc/HQC2Uk9Pf9oY2QpK-mG2VoeotDkiaCvygCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_2601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XSrs5MO8fC8/XpfX6CNoY1I/AAAAAAAABnc/HQC2Uk9Pf9oY2QpK-mG2VoeotDkiaCvygCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_2601.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Indian Head Storm - "Kate"</td></tr>
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It's hard to believe a month ago 40-inches of snow had accumulated here at home. It melted rapidly, as it generally does this time of year, and conditions weatherwise are now, "spring-like." Mornings are cool, afternoons are warm, and the grass is really coming on.<br />
Stay-at-home restrictions, and a serious shortage of funds, have limited my travel from home to other locations where I might get some training done. Fortunately, the dirt roads have dried-out and I'm able to road the dogs, around here, every other day off the quad. I haven't done a lot of bird work because a flock of sheep and it's guardian Greater Pyrenees has occupied the bird field. So what I have focused on is yard work; heeling, whoaing, coming-to-here, standing, loading into the truck, loading into the crate… Dogs young and old are being put through the process every other day; going through the motions with the pups, and polishing-up the older dogs.<br />
In the picture above "Kate" (Kelly's IB Butler X Kelly's Funseeker), 12-months old, is on a board and fully rigged-up, learning to stand-in-place and get comfortable in the gear she needs to associate with the breaking process. She's looking good doing it.Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-84359453600727192112020-04-14T18:00:00.001-07:002020-04-15T07:21:03.867-07:00March Miracle, and then.....<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-12f7gUeaD08/XovpLH95d2I/AAAAAAAABnA/A7gGBY5jlis_ZyrtkZFOhyhkDKygZi3lQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_2675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-12f7gUeaD08/XovpLH95d2I/AAAAAAAABnA/A7gGBY5jlis_ZyrtkZFOhyhkDKygZi3lQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_2675.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Sutter Rogers</td></tr>
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Until Saturday March 14, snowpack in the Sierra was suffering at about 50-percent of normal. For two weeks prior, the daily highs had been in the mid-60's to 70-degrees, it was dry, and the horses were literally sweating standing still. Their winter coats just starting to shed-out, the animals seemed to be going through more salt and water than they typically do in the summer heat.<br />
Well, that Saturday evening it started coming, with a good 16-inches settling-in overnight, and for four consecutive days it came and came; a total of 40-inches of the white stuff accumulating on the railing of my deck. I was on a backhoe tractor 4.5-hrs each day plowing snow so we could get 26 horses fed and watered, and our vehicles in and out our drives. Fortunately, the power was only out for about 36-hrs; in past winters we'd gone four to five days without power during such a storm.<br />
This is a pretty typical winter weather scenario in the mountains; nasty conditions for a few days, the power goes out, you have the woodstove for heat, the fridge gets emptied into a cooler on the back porch to keep things cool, beer into the snowbank, you suffer for a couple days without electronics, read by candlelight.... Then things go back to normal.<br />
Just as the weather began to clear in the northern Sierra, the 600-pound grizzly that was stirring in our midst the past couple months started to move; and it charged hard. COVID-19 got real across America; it became more than just something affecting hot-spot cities and far-off nations. Stay-at-home and shelter-in-place restrictions were implemented in States across the nation, the Dow took a dive, unemployment went form an all-time low to an all-time high, the list goes on and on....<br />
People with and without the virus are suffering in the States and around the world. It's impossible to do this reality justice in words because it's hardly comprehendable. A true shit-storm! I'll take four-feet of snow any day......<br />
<br />
<br />Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-16827121719062586642020-03-07T20:19:00.001-08:002020-03-07T20:24:37.037-08:00Pointing Chukar<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6o7YYphHknc/XmRVHO_iDqI/AAAAAAAABlw/h0Xx9PKAPWIvm4kS_sEa9gzUJazVBtItQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_2584.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1442" data-original-width="914" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6o7YYphHknc/XmRVHO_iDqI/AAAAAAAABlw/h0Xx9PKAPWIvm4kS_sEa9gzUJazVBtItQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_2584.jpg" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sammi pointing Chukar<br />
Photo by Holly Higgins</td></tr>
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Sammi had as a pup, out of the shoot, a ton of point; butterflies, grasshoppers, bumblebees, stalks of grass blowing in the wind; you name it, she'd point it, and with intensity! Initially her pointing, it seemed, was focused on moving objects that caught her eye; something would move, she'd point, and then pounce and chase.... When Sammi was about 6-months old I started running her in the bird field, into electronic launchers loaded with pigeons; she had a great nose and pointed with intensity. From the start, I could get in front of her and launch birds before she would chase. After letting her chase a few times, it didn't take much effort to keep her from chasing more than a few feet. Walking up to flush for her, I could see her drinking up the scent; high tail and head, mouth opening and closing, eyes staring into the distance, body motionless. I remember thinking to myself every time I ran her in a training situation, "this is a bird dog." Toward the end of this bird season I was fortunate to get her into Chukar country and get her into some birds. Unfortunately, on both occasions I had her down, her littermate Ella was down with her, and before I could get to Sammi to kill a bird for her, Ella came in and ripped them...Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-38307715527599510162020-02-18T21:11:00.000-08:002020-02-19T06:24:58.767-08:00On Point!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VESfINO5qA0/Xky6rnOGAOI/AAAAAAAABlE/szbo-dfw7ZU2787YtaKYMaDRzrZAW805gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_2596%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="893" data-original-width="1285" height="277" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VESfINO5qA0/Xky6rnOGAOI/AAAAAAAABlE/szbo-dfw7ZU2787YtaKYMaDRzrZAW805gCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_2596%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Holly Higgins</td></tr>
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In this photo, Meg and Wheels are backing Gertie, which is just over the ridge, too the front, and out of the picture. This was the last hunt of the season and all three girls were put down together for the final-final. Wheels and Gertie had backed each other on previous hunts, but Meg had only seen the backing silhouette to that point. And the birds were there!Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-78620758274557296462020-02-18T20:24:00.001-08:002020-02-18T20:24:37.717-08:00News From Chukar Country<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ms7nWbb2U9o/XkypWHhUK9I/AAAAAAAABk4/34ZrlngaMw8TPR_dkQ7nITmDtrvpRxWjQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_2574.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="875" data-original-width="1600" height="217" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ms7nWbb2U9o/XkypWHhUK9I/AAAAAAAABk4/34ZrlngaMw8TPR_dkQ7nITmDtrvpRxWjQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_2574.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
After the Thanksgiving snows, and successive subsequent storms provided much needed moisture to the eastside, birds began to disburse and the hunting improved. Chukar could still be found in the clouds if you chose to go that high, but much of the front country was littered with birds as well; birds that were now finding fresh feed from the green-up which occurred across the landscape post precip. Both dogs and hunters were rewarded with birdwork, not just exercise....<br />
By the end of the season birds had begun to pair up, so pairs and singles were let fly anticipating the clutches that might be produced this spring by these early cohabitors.Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-78299711681538681052019-12-03T17:32:00.001-08:002019-12-03T17:32:48.125-08:00Thanksgiving Pheasant Hunt<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N1OB1-eRzrI/XeLzroRnPpI/AAAAAAAABis/eVlUmqmEAUgBJIVtjiHWZIB_JZIHJtIJACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_2453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1519" data-original-width="1600" height="378" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N1OB1-eRzrI/XeLzroRnPpI/AAAAAAAABis/eVlUmqmEAUgBJIVtjiHWZIB_JZIHJtIJACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_2453.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Holly Higgins</td></tr>
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We hunted pheasant Thanksgiving day hoping to harvest a rooster for the table that evening, but at the end of the day were glad we had thrown a chicken in the cart (just in case) while shopping the previous evening. That morning there was a skiff of snow on the ground and tracks were noticeable everywhere in the cover; criss-crossing through the sage and native grasses, down fencelines, in and out of the willows. There was a chill in the air all day and the frost never left the cover except when one of us, or a dog, brushed it off while hunting through it. When the wind came up you felt it anywhere there was bare skin or wet clothing. The dogs were the heroes of the day, hunting hard in the cold and wet persistently. We managed to put a few birds in the air but pinning a bird down was tough....Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177950893772260581.post-32374583803317102812019-11-30T10:14:00.002-08:002019-11-30T10:14:56.349-08:00Green-up Is Coming<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ig_YOatTbbk/XeKwok0bfYI/AAAAAAAABig/X91uqJRgB8IBO1JFKuulaP5IxoguEk3KwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/2014%2BBrubeck%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ig_YOatTbbk/XeKwok0bfYI/AAAAAAAABig/X91uqJRgB8IBO1JFKuulaP5IxoguEk3KwCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/2014%2BBrubeck%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Sutter Rogers</td></tr>
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In late September, early October, Fall seemed to be coming-on like a lion; a fair amount of rain, a skiff of snow, and some chilly mornings had us believing it was "on" for chukar season. But for the last month, since a week-or-so before the season opened, "dry and dusty" best describe what conditions have been like. It has been warm and dry, almost too warm to get the dogs out for more than a few hours in the morning. And birdwork has been at a premium, at least in southern and eastern Oregon.<br />
It's now Thanksgiving and things seemed to have changed. As much as a foot of snow has hit the eastside! The snow should get them moving, but after this cold spell when temperatures reach the high thirties and we get a little sunshine some green-up should occur in the cheat grass and the chukar should begin to disperse as feed becomes more readily available. Something to be thankful for?Jared Tapperohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03880553328820544323noreply@blogger.com0