Hunting chukars with friends, gun dogs and grief

Mildly chagrined, I grabbed a fetch toy for June and tossed it a few times so she could stretch her legs before we headed back to town. On the third toss, a rig pulled into the parking lot and the driver rolled down his window to ask if I was going to hunt the canyon. I told him of my sad predicament and said the chukar hills were all his.

“Wanna borrow a gun?” he asked. “We can hunt it together.”

I declined at first but accepted when he asked again. Scott’s Benelli Ethos was a fair bit lighter than my old Remmington 870. But the safety was in the same place, meaning I wouldn’t have to fumble to find it.

So the four of us — June and I, plus Scott and his dog Duck, headed out. They live in Seattle and had spent the past few days chasing birds in Asotin County. Duck, a sleek vizsla with a deadly nose, ranged far out in front and pinned four coveys just below rim of the side canyon we were tracing. Two of the groups flushed wild but we got shots at the others. Scott bagged a couple and I whiffed. June proved herself when she found a covey that Duck pointed initially but pulled off after losing the scent.

It was a fun day. We talked about hunting, work and life in general as we side-hilled. Then my foot found a snaggle of old fence obscured in a tuft of bunchgrass and sent me tumbling. Not a bad fall but I apparently twisted my ankle in the process. I say apparently because as rolled ankles go it was pretty mild. So much so that I didn’t notice. But as we neared the point where the side canyon we were working joined another, it was starting to hurt.

We turned around and lucky for me, I was able to hit the top of the ridge and gimp the 4 miles back to our rigs on relatively flat ground. Back at the parking area, I thanked Scott for his generosity and said I hope our paths cross in the future. I’m not sure I would have thought to loan a spare gun to a stranger but I’m glad he did.

Driving home I thought of Anthony and Tom, the gift of friendship and how nice it is to share time outdoors with like-minded people. My ankle is now fat and blue, but it was all worth it.

Barker is the Outdoors Editor of the Lewiston Tribune.