Opening of Nevada Chukar Hunting

This past weekend was the opening of chukar hunting in Nevada. Dylan and I drove down south to Battle Mountain, Nevada for our annual Nevada chukar hunting trip. We figured that this was the 13th or 14th consecutive year for the core group of us including JD, John Woods, Brian and myself. In addition to us four, this year included Dylan, Brian's friend Israel, Brian's son Alex, and Little John.

The past two years the hunting had been rather bleak in our normal hot spot so we figured that we would try out a couple of new hot spots. Saturday morning everyone but John and Little John took off for a short drive to the new hot spot. Unfortunately, the short drive turned into a couple of hours trying to figure out exactly where we needed to be. By the time we got to a good looking canyon, Brian and Israel had decided to head back to our old standby, so it was only JD, Dylan and myself. Turns out we made the right choice. We walked up the canyon a ways following a small creek and Dylan promptly picked up a couple of birds that had just finished watering. While he and JD continued up the canyon, I decided that I needed to head up the mountain in pursuit of the birds I could hear calling.

Once I got up a few hundred feet I started getting into some birds. An unbelievable thing happened on the second covey I jumped, I actually dropped three birds with one shot! Unreal.

The official count when I got back to the truck was JD 6 birds (limit), Dylan 2 birds, and me 5 birds. Upon getting back to camp we found out that John and Little John got into the birds right outside of camp and they ended up with a total of 11, with Little John limiting.

The next morning we thought that we might try and all hunt the same area. Funny how things never seem to work out like you planned. On the drive to the hunting spot we jumped a couple of coveys off the water. Dylan and I saw where one group landed and headed over to that spot. We were standing right in the middle of them as they flushed and he dropped three for a triple while I dropped two. The only problem was we couldn't find either of my birds. Dylan had gotten the fever by now and chased the remnants across the road and up another hill where he shot his forth. At this point all he was thinking about was a limit. The count was Dylan 4 birds and dad none.

When we got back to the truck all the other guys had moved on - presumably to the hunting spot. We drove on and stopped at a place called Moss Creek where John and Little John had stopped. As we got out of the truck they flushed a large covey and again we saw exactly where they landed. We headed over to the spot and Dylan promptly dropped a bird with a great passing shot. Onward and upward we headed before I saw a few birds on a knoll just above us. As we came over the top of it they flushed and Dylan dropped another for his limit. Amazingly he had shot his limit in the span of two hours! Lost in all this I picked up one bird myself.

We sat around with John and Little John and shot the shit for a while before we headed back to camp. I wasn't too worried about myself after Dylan getting his birds but I had him drop me off at the spot we got into the birds that morning. Lo and behold I ran into them again and managed to pick up three before calling it a day.

Later that afternoon the others came back all smiles. They had all limited up in the draw we were originally were supposed to meet at.

Finally tally was 60 birds between the seven hunters. Great weekend!