With my wife out of town for a while it was a good chance to go hunting for the devil bird known as chukar. Darn birds tend to run uphill away from you, making you have to follow up some very steep territory. Then when they flush you have a split second to get off a shot maybe two before they dodge over the rimrock and fly all the way to the bottom, making you follow yet again. It's a great way to get in shape, and make up some new cuss words. In six days of hunting/hiking I lost six or seven pounds, and had no birds to roast over my fire. Devil birds is an apt name. Regardless it is just another excuse to see incredible scenery and like I say, get in shape.
Also, all pictures here were taken with my new iPhone 12 Pro. The DSLR has gotten to be heavy for me to carry around along with a shotgun and hunting vest full of lunch and extra stuff a guy needs when hiking alone. I was real happy with the results.
I was a going back to a place I had found last winter, this would make my third trip this year. I had heard chukar last spring when there with my wife and figured it was a good place to start hunting. First I had to pass the local hooligans out laying around. I found some ground beef on my way in and wondered if I had been given a bum steer, I wanted prime rib.
Then I found some lean ground beef. Or was it lean half ground?
After passing the meat section I found the dried produce, tumbleweeds. What the bloody hell, these weren't here last March.
And the farther I drove the worse they got.
Making it past the killer tumbleweeds, home for that night
Duke and I got there just in time for an evening walk.
Duke can pose like a bird dog, but he ain't.
Right off I found 3 toed devil bird tracks, nice and large. I could almost smell one cooking over my fire, and no they don't taste like chicken.
Shadowtogrophy happened
Followed by the evening fire with a view of the sunset. And while it looks like I'm camping in the middle of the road, I can assure you it is the very end of the road, more of a two track than actual road.
Trying out my new iPhone 12 Pro camera, so far I'm impressed with it.
The morning walkabout started with cloudy skies to the east. Lucky me, storms typically come from the west along with the jet stream, meaning these clouds were already past me.
I happened to look down in time to see some nice cat tracks, and I wondered how fresh they were. I stopped making my wounded chukar noises.
Frogenstein, don't you see it?!
Hiking along I found a broken chukar egg and hollowed out nest under brush.
Duke can't say "chukar", so he just stares at the scenery.
The truck camper is circled
Chukar droppings, ok poop, a lot! And depressions in the dirt where they took dirt baths and preened. There was a large area here around me where a covey must have had a meeting on how to dodge hunters.
The camper was getting closer, my old legs were glad.
In between this picture and the truck, after a long day of hiking with a shotgun and hearing them in the rimrock but not actually seeing any birds, I shouldered my gun on it's sling. A short minute later ol Duke walked up to a bush and stuck his mug in it. The darn bush exploded with chukar that turned into guided missiles as they flew off heading for the valley floor. While I, with shotgun on shoulder, fumbled as fast as possible to get it off my shoulder and take the safety off. Oh man, too late. You have a brief second to react before they are gone. Note to self, no daydreaming at the end of the day, hunting isn't over until you're sitting down with a beer in hand.
I could see rain in the distance, luckily it didn't come my way. My wife would have enjoyed that evening, I wished she were there.
There's not much to take pictures of in the camper at night, but to show how well Duke fits in a small space. He likes in under the heater vents, I just know it.
The next day was for driving, very slowly, and sight seeing. I always hope for the best when driving over sharp rocks, having had more than my share of flats.
I ended up stopping at the end of another two track, making my own share of tracks as I tried to level off in different spots.
I had yet to see a person, and wouldn't for the whole six days.
There is a spring, more of a seep, right there in the center...
...trampled by cows. I'm more and more against cows yet the tracks I drive would not be there if ranchers didn't use them to check on their livestock.
Yes, we see the scenery, or were you saying "Help me, I'm lost"?
Cheat grass and sunset. Chukar live on this grass, both are not native to this country. Sadly the cheatgrass is a terrible invasive plant, like the tumbleweed. But take away the grass and the chukar go too.
Oh yeah, cozy.
More two track
That led me to this overlook of the Owyhee River.
I was glad the roads were well marked...
...and dry. Nobody likes frozen mud puddles that break through under truck camper tires, throwing mud everywhere.
After a few nights exploring new vistas I headed back to a favorite spot. Even knowing where it was, the tracks leading there were grown over with tumbleweeds. I drove a few miles past the turn off before turning around and going back, and actually walking a short stretch to find where to turn.
Another evening walk showed the extent of tumbleweed takeover. Layers of them fall just below the drop-offs of cliffs and plateaus.
As well as permeating the sage areas too. Where will the chukar hide, nothing can get through them. And I won't mention the extreme fire hazard that would set the desert on ablaze.
My view for a couple of nights
Speaking of a blaze, I had my own going on, complete with a specdamntacular view.
Ok sorry, it was a specbeertacular view.
Some pictures I think my DSLR would do better than my iPhone, but hopefully I'm not being graded on photo quality.
After the sun had set I picked up my little fireplace and moved it to the other side of the truck to watch the light fade. I call it reading my last lights.
Going in for dinner it was pretty cozy...and again I was missing her.
...and it was Thanksgiving. My wife was out of state working so this was her second missing of Thanksgiving camping in 42 years. At least my record stands. I've actually been camping for Thanksgiving every year since 1974, I was 20.
Then back out to enjoy the windless evening fire. It was probably right about freezing, making the fire that much more enjoyable.
Then back inside for the night. Wow, so much going on, Duke can hardly stand all the fun. Ok actually he and I are both getting old. He, of course, will pass me in the aging process. This time I noticed a big falling off of energy level from him.
Leaving the truck behind in the morning, it was going to be a long day of hiking and looking for chukar. And dodging tumbleweeds.
More cat tracks. All my life outdoors I've yet to see a mountain lion. Some bobcats but that's all. Maybe I'm lucky but in a perfect world I'd get a picture of one before it ran off. Not before it charged me, that would be my last picture yes? I wonder if I'd need to use flash up close?
Again I've circled le truck. That's French for "the truck", I was a French trapper in a previous life.
See...Dave's Opus
Sadly, an unused shotgun. Well, I had taken a few shots at birds but without a bird dog to hold them, they flush so far away. Instead of Hail Mary's, I'll call them Hail Chucker shots.
Duke can't say 'chukar" so he just stares. Have I said that before?
I won't say these are quality pics, but they do show the remoteness of the area. It's a long rough drive with a long rough hike. I'll call it a Double Rough, shaken, not stirred.
These iPhones take pretty cool panos
In the far distance, about 1 o"clock, and the highest point of land in the picture is where I drove to and took pictures a few days ago. It was about 30 miles total, and took me two days to get there with the exploring I did on slow rocky roads.
Ok too many pictures of the same look, I shutter to think of it. "Shutter", that was a camera joke. Ok we're walking we're walking...I was lichen the picture though. Was that a boo? It's an old joke, slightly overused. Hi Ben!
There is another seep on the side of the colorful hill. It amazes me how much water there is in the SE Oregon desert.
The hike back took us to a place were we needed to get through those invasive weeds.
I actually had to move many tumbleweeds for us and especially Duke, since I had boots and he didn't, to walk through. And like those damn tumbleweeds, I was blown away.
Finally out of the weeds, it became a smooth walk back to the camper.
It was our last night out...
...we made the most of it with a last fire. A good fire, a good dog. it was a good night. Yet I could hear the chukar laughing in the far sage brush. True story, they had flown in and settled as the sun was setting. Devil Birds in so many ways.
Followed later by coyotes singing. We heard them almost every night and hiking one morning as well. When I was in junior high school in the San Bernardino foothills there was a $50 bounty on coyote pelts. I was into nature already and while I enjoyed hunting birds and rabbits early on, I could never get into hunting coyotes.
I had hoped for a beautiful morning, God and Mother Nature did not disappoint.
Nor did the chef disappoint. Don't worry, I did not eat all that sausage, giving half to my four legged friend Duke. He might have enjoyed my coffee too though, for energy.
Duke and I attempted a last try at birds but found treasure instead. A rusty ol gas can, found by a rusty ol hunter with a rusty ol dog. I'll call it a Triple Rusty, shaken and stirred, with a shot of lead.
It was a pathetic walk, we made it two miles, but struggled to make it back. Worn out from not getting birds...
I wasn't disappointed by not getting any chukar, I knew my hunting skills needed polishing since it's been a while. The main draw is just to be outside and as far away from civilization as possible to enjoy both weather and scenery. Not to mention the huffing and puffing that goes with hunting devil birds.
I know if Duke could talk, he'd be calling them Devil Birds too. But he couldn't talk, he was so tired he just passed out.
There had been a couple of real windy nights, blowing more dastardly weeds over the trail. They were even trying to come in the windows it seemed.
Since getting back home I've done a little bit of research on tumbleweeds. They were brought to the U.S. by Russian immigrants carrying flax seed that was contaminated with Russian Thistle, the tumbleweed, in 1873. One average size plant will drop around 250,000 seeds while another larger variety drops 500,000 seeds as it dies, breaks loose from the soil and tumbles over the desert as nature designed it. The ongoing drought in the west is helping their spread, needing less water than any native plant. Within twenty years of 1873 they covered 35,000 square miles and are now found in almost all 50 states. I've watched Youtube videos of two story houses covered, cars buried, and snow plows being used to clear a brief path on highways. I never knew. But having to buff their desert pinstripes off my truck yet again, I hate them even more.
As I said, heavy on tumbleweeds and light on chukar it was still a most excellent camp trip. There were no regrets except to learn that besides the Devil Birds known as chukar, there are also Devil Weeds known as the Russian Thistle...tumbleweeds.
Thanks for reading!
