The frozen tundra at Bowdoin held a lot of birds. Real smart birds.
I was fortunate enough to get some good bird hunts in the last month of the pheasant season (and I still have a chukar hunt coming up to close things out for another year). In early December, my wife (Dixie) asked what I wanted for my birthday, and I quickly replied “to go hunting.” She acquiesced and before she had time to reconsider, I had the dogs in the truck and was 10 miles down the road. Just me, the dogs (Cora & Gracie) and the open highway for 4 days!
My first stop was just north of Denton, MT to hit my usual Pheasants Forever land that has always been productive for me. I got there just before sunrise and figured I was golden. The route I take requires a bit of a hike to get back in to where the birds are, and as I crested the final hill that looks down on my target hunting grounds, I noticed several birds flushing, and 2 hunters in blaze orange in the distance. Crap! I was too late – these other guys beat me to the honey hole. I had already invested in the hike back there, so I still hunted around to see if I could pick up any scattered birds. While I saw several pheasants flushing wild in the distance, the best I could manage was a covey of sharptail grouse – which made me look silly as I missed with both barrels. My stop at the Pheasants Forever land amounted to a long hike and some really poor shooting. My kids always ask me when I return from a hunt – “did you get anything?” At this point in my trip, my only response is “good exercise.”
I left Denton and continued the journey north to Malta, MT where I stayed for a couple days. Just outside of Malta is a national wildlife refuge called Bowdoin. It’s 15,000+ acres of public hunting and I have had decent success there on my prior 2 visits. There is a dirt road loop you can drive that takes you all the way around the lake. There are scattered Russian Olive trees and a lot of prairie grass that provides great cover for pheasants and sharpies. You’ll also see a lot of waterfowl when the place isn’t frozen over. But for the upland hunter, it’s an easier place to hunt once its frozen – there’s a ton of water and marsh that you have to negotiate unless its all frozen over. Fortunately, when I was there, highs during the day were in the 20′s, and everything was frozen solid. I marched through the cattails and marsh grass without fear of getting wet.
When I first pulled in to the Bowdoin refuge, the sun was going down, so I made a quick loop around the lake to scout what area I would tackle first thing in the morning. I stopped the truck and watched a few pheasants loafing next to the road. As I looked around, I saw dozens more in the brush around some trees. I was getting excited – and knew exactly where I would start the following morning. I retreated back to Malta and checked in at the Sportsman’s Motel (a dog friendly motel).
Next morning, I was on the ground in the refuge before sunup. What happened next is a lesson in what NOT to do when pheasant hunting. The approach I took resulted in me flushing several pheasants directly into the rising sun – I couldn’t see well enough to distinguish hen from rooster, so I didn’t shoot. My dog Gracie was going nuts with all the pheasants running around, and while I was distracted with the flushing pheasants, she took off after a few runners headed in the opposite direction. When I turned her beeper on to locate her, I swung around behind me to see at least a dozen more pheasant flushing – with my excited shorthair right there – 100+ yards out. Ugh! Gracie is a good hunter, but she is an alpha female as well. She is more prone to range far unless I continually keep her close. I let her get out of range in the excitement, and blew my shot at several birds. After I called her back in, we hunted the edge of the frozen lake shore and had some great points and flushes – but every single one of them was a hen. Gracie started pointing every clump of marsh grass she came up on – because there were at least 6 in a row that produced hens. We pushed on, chasing several singles here and there, and watching more roosters flush well out of range, and a few more hens flush well in range.
One of the challenges with late-season pheasant hunting is that the birds are really smart. These are the all-stars of the pheasant crop – the smart birds that get straight A’s in survival. All the dumb birds are long gone. But that’s part of the challenge I enjoy. The last place you’ll find me is on a preserve or game farm with easy targets. I’m more about the hunt and watching my dogs work than I am about the kill. That said, it always feels nice to bag a rooster 
We eventually circled back and jumped in the truck to find a new spot to hunt. On the next stop, I put Cora on the ground and left Gracie in the truck to rest up. Cora and I stumbled on a pheasant gold mine – literally dozens if not hundreds of birds loafing around some Russian olive trees. I stood about 100 yards out and watched the mass of birds flush out into the marsh grass cover towards the lake. The numbers of birds were impressive given all I’d heard about low bird numbers, bad hatch, winter kill, etc.
Cora and I chased down a few singles out in the marsh grass, but again, all the roosters flushed well ahead of us. Only the hens would stick around and play the game with us. I was getting tired and frustrated. Seeing so many birds, and not getting close enough for a shot starts to get aggravating. As I headed back to the truck with Cora, one of the refuge rangers pulled up to check my license. We chatted for a while and he told me the group of pheasants I was targeting has been hunted practically every day for the season which was over 2 months old now. These birds knew the drill well – and it wasn’t likely that I would outsmart them. But it sure was nice – and encouraging – to see that many birds out there.
On the Bowdoin refuge, they keep half of the refuge closed to hunting until the first week of December. When it opens, it basically is another pheasant opener – lots of birds that haven’t been hunted yet. Apparently they had some good weather for this second opener, and the refuge ranger told me they had 50+ hunters up there for it, and lots of success. I charted my course and put on a few miles in the recently opened half of the refuge, but didn’t fare any better than the first day. Lots of hens sitting tight, lots of roosters flushing wild and out of range. Gracie eventually found one unsuspecting rooster that flushed in range and made it to my gamebag, but that was it. The trip to Bowdoin kicked my butt – tons of birds, but only 1 in the bag. To compound the smart bird issue, I also missed a couple other makable shots on birds – adding to my frustration.
I had thoughts of extending my trip and driving east across the hiline to other well-known bird towns, but reconsidered and packed up all the gear and dogs and we made the 5 hour drive back to Bozeman. Late season birds take a different strategy than what I was throwing at them. I needed another couple hunters with me that we could position to intercept the flush, or to cutoff a some escape routes. I figured that continuing on as a solo hunter would only result in more “good exercise” 
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