Modern Wild Man ~The Northern Bobwhite ~

The Northern Bobwhite is a sturdy little bird who manages to make a living from the state of Michigan all the way to Guatemala. These amazing little birds make their home in a variety of types of terrain, and survive through extreme seasons. Their song is unmistakable, and hearing the call of a Bobwhite to me is like feeling the warmth of the sun on my shoulders on a cold day.


The Bobwhite, or simply quail as they are known in my South Eastern Kansas, are a sportsman's tradition. A quail hunt is almost a rite of passage. Many people may quickly begin to think of Southern Plantations, and large groups of hunters with far ranging pointers when they think of quail hunts, but for me it's something far different.


I grew up all over the state of Kansas. Moving with my father's retail management career, and my mother's work to her college degree, I found myself in five towns, two time zones and in schools hundreds of miles apart before my freshman year of high school. One constant however was a little town on the coast of Nebraska in Western Kansas. When the holiday season arrived, you could bet we would be with family, and in the heart of upland bird hunting.


When I think about a quail hunt, I am whisked back to the cold mornings of late season upland hunts. An intimate affair, shared with my Dad, a cousin, uncle, or close friend. Rarely did our groups exceed 3 or 4. We put miles on, both on old pickups and boots. Many times in western Kansas we search out a ringneck pheasant, but a quail covey is always a gem to find. Men and boys, carrying family heirlooms, shotguns passed down from generations. Family traditions are built this way, boys learn to be men, and men learn to be mentors. From a distance you see individuals, walking along abandoned farmsteads, overgrown hedgerows, and crop field edges; cold and a long way from any creature comforts. But, an upland hunt is often much deeper. Relationships are built, and conversations that maybe couldn't get started begin to take form.


The sound of feet crunching through a crusted light snow, and your breath gently fogging under the brim of a worn cap seem to happen in slow motion when a covey rises. Then it happens, and it happens fast, birds flush and fly in all different directions, you have to train yourself to slow down and pick out one. Snap a shotgun to your shoulder, follow through and try to watch where the rest of the birds set down. When my hunting career began, I was both the hunter and bird dog. For the last seventeen years however I have been blessed with a four legged companion for my bird hunts. Watching a dog work a downed bird, and then to pick out a few birds out of a covey after the initial rise is a privilege. I hunt with labradors that work close to the gun. Many upland enthusiasts prefer a pointer or setter for quail. But, for an all purpose dog, both upland and waterfowl I prefer my labs.


Quail hunting in much of rural America is tradition. A rite of passage, and many times a type of weld that brings family and friends together. I can close my eyes and just that fast find myself on a number of hunts from years ago. There are opinions on all sorts of things like gauges of shotguns, types of loads, types of dogs, you name it. For now, let's just agree that an upland hunt is its own kind of magic.