"Go Time"...
*NOTICE TO ALL WHOM I OWE A RETURN EMAIL OR PHONE CALL* Don't take it personally.... I'm a bit behind on my "catchin' " up right now. Why? Well, it's "Go Time" around here.... Just hopped off a plane from Alberta, threw my dirty hunting clothes into the wash and will have them back in the luggage for a trip to Idaho just 48 hours from now. While our fall and winter season of Due North Outdoors is in full swing, we're also gathering 13 weeks of shows for our national upland hunting program, "Pheasants Forever Television". I'm busy documenting upland adventure hunts and I would say, our trip to Alberta DEFINATELY qualifies.....
Last Monday, we arrived in Calgary and fished the famed Bow River alongside long-time guide Bob Haysom, who also happens to head up Pheasants Forever Calgary. Last time I was up there, we lit up that darn river. I think we had two or three fish over 18 inches in roughly 2 hours of fishing. This trip, the river returned the favor.... In half a day of fishing on a perfect fall day without an ounce of wind, the Bow gave up exactly one fish. A darkly-colored rainbow trout. The good news? She was a dandy caught on camera from every angle.
The fishing didn't matter much, because our real mission was to tackle Alberta's upland hunting scene. Tuesday morning, photojournalist Aaron Achtenberg and I were up and packed well before the sun made an appearance. Bob picked us up and the three of us crossed the foothills on the Eastern edge of the Canadian Rockies and documented an amazing Alberta sunrise. A pile of GIANT mule deer also made an appearance. Makes for some beautiful television.
About 60 kilometers and an hour later, we geared up in blaze orange and headed, on foot, up a steep coulee in search of sharptail grouse. Turns out, the area south of Calgary is supposed to be one of the best spots on the planet to chase sharpies. You could have fooled me... Four hours into our "mountainside" hunt, we hadn't seen a single bird. Suddenly, this Alberta adventure was turning into potential nightmare. We'd had slow fishing the day before and now the birds weren't cooperating either. We did scare out a couple of the biggest mule deer bucks I've ever seen. Just wait 'til you see the video...
I continued to hike the steep, grassy hillside and started thinking. "What if I we don't get any birds and I go home to a steaming-mad boss?" "Geez, I spent two months getting this trip together and now I'm gonna get fired." I could feel the sweat dribbling down my back under my Filson vest and I started to get even more nervous. Suddenly, eight birds flushed right in front of me. The dog had not scented them. I just flushed them mindlessly walking the coulee. Without thinking, I mounted my Browning and pulled the trigger. The flushing bird directly in front of me dropped. At that same moment, I noticed another bird flying off to my left. I pivoted and instinctively pulled the trigger and the second grouse fell. My first true double on sharpies. I looked at Aaron, camera hanging on his shoulder, and we smiled. Those ten seconds of flushing pandemonium completley changed our attitudes. Over the next half hour, we documented several more sharptail flushes and we left that darn coulee with a greatly improved outlook.
That afternoon, we made a quick stop on our way down to the town of Medicine Hat at a historic Canadian site called "Head Smashed In". While it sounds a bit rough, it's actually a very cool destination. It's the spot in Southern Alberta where the prairie people once ran herds of buffalo off the cliffs.
Below those cliffs, researchers have discovered bone fragments nearly 12 meters deep, dating as far back as 6,000 years ago. This is how, long ago, people gathered food and materials for clothing, shelter, tools, you name it. Head Smashed In;
A pretty amazing stop if you find youself in Alberta.
We woke up the next morning in Medince Hat just a little bit sore, but ready for a full day of pheasant hunting with members of the local Pheasants Forever Chapter. I chuckled as I pulled open the barbed wire fence along our first coulee. Ever heard of the Chinooks? They're famous, or should I say infamous winds up in that part of the world and they were blowin. Forcast called for winds to 15 kilometers per hour. My pants flapped and I almost lost my hat. Turns out the weather lady had it wrong. We were getting ready to hunt in a full gale. We dropped into the first coulee and the dogs put up two hens and a rooster almost immediately. In that wind, no one had a shot at the rooster. He was gone in the blink of an eye. For the next three hours, not a single bird. Aaron and I once again looked at each other and I could tell we were thinkin' the same thing; "What the heck did we do to deserve hunts like this?" That afternoon, we finally found two spots where Aaron was able to document plenty of flushes and falling birds. As we walked out of our final haunt, we both let out a tired sigh of relief... Alberta turned out to be one of the most intense shoots I've ever been part of. Guess that's why I didn't feel too guilty bellying up to a hot plate of poutine and a tall glass of Alberta "ceasar".
I'll have the bags packed shortly and a trip update from Idaho. Hell's Canyon, here we come. We'll be chasing chukkars and steelhead on the Snake River....
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