As with anything in life, reality is a matter of perception. Fly fishing for large brown trout in a snow storm may be fun for some and hell on earth for others.
This is also true of central Montana. To many, the miles of sage brush prairie that wander off in every direction beneath several lesser mountain ranges are a barren wasteland. Thousands upon thousands of acres with little or no obvious value.
Even the most casual of excursions out into this terrain on a hot, early fall afternoon will tend to confirm the negative assessment. Boots kick up puffs of alkali dust. The air quietly sizzles in the white heat. No wind. Not a zephyr to be found. Water is a fond memory growing dimmer in the clear night. If you are lucky, you will be bitten by a few mosquitoes hanging around the scraggly, unyielding clumps of sage brush.
The antelope that are a common sight here in autumn have vanished in search of a more benign environment. The deer aren't around either. The region appears abandoned by life. Far better to concentrate one's efforts looking for pheasants and sharp-tailed grouse in the nearby fields of wheat or along the narrow courses of the intermittent streams and drainage ditches that wind through the waves of hills, bluffs, and coulees that dominate the windy vastness.
Initial, cursory examinations are frequently deceptive in nature and this is true for this piece of Montana. In addition to several kinds of rodents tunneling away with gay abandon just beneath the parched surface and along with the countless noisome species of biting insects that are present everywhere, there is a creature that finds this seeming banquet of inhospitality a safe, secure home.
SETTLED IN AMONG THIS DOWN-SCALE FOREST of scrub growth is a bird of surprising size and abundance. The sage grouse, resembling more a small turkey than a grouse, thrives under these trying conditions. Males will often reach 30 inches in length and occasionally exceed seven pounds. Females are half these dimensions. Referred to throughout this portion of the state as a sage hen, the bird is making a spirited comeback.
After rushing towards the permanence of oblivion as a result of extensive destruction of its habitat wrought by gigantic sod-busting agrarian operations and then waging a precarious balancing act on the awful edge for several decades, the species is now re-established in sufficient numbers to provide unique sport for upland hunters.
Admittedly sharp-tailed grouse, pheasant, and Hungarian partridge attract the ardent attentions of far more shotgun-toting individuals than does the under-appreciated sage hen, but that is a loss for these hunters and is not due to any genetic character flaw in the bird.
While sage grouse present a sizable target, watching a six-pound specimen rise into the air in a lumbering motion of alternately beating wings and then swift gliding is a study in apparent contradiction. How can any bird so big and clumsy-looking attain speed so quickly?
Quick reactions on the part of the hunter result in relatively easy shots as the grouse attempt to escape directly down range. No bee-buzzing Hungarian antics with this bird. If for some reason you do not get on the sage hen immediately, the bird flies beyond effective range with surprising alacrity.
ON A RECENT HUNT IN SEPTEMBER during the height of a bluebird afternoon, my companion's vizsla turned up a sage grouse which took flight and was immediately dropped. While man and dog admired their work and I recorded the event on film, another grouse took flight from exactly the same location, which now happened to be precisely where I was standing.
The camera was released and my gun brought to bear only to confront the realization that the grouse was rapidly moving out of range. The shot did kill the bird, which soared mortally injured for some distance to another clump of sage brush to be retrieved by the dog minutes later.
What this incident demonstrates is how quickly sage hens are able to reach impressive velocities. Switching from camera to gun took less than a couple of seconds, but already the creature was approaching safety.
I've occasionally wondered why the grouse evolved into a creature capable of rapid flight that is unnecessary for eluding ground-based predators and yet insufficient to escape the lethal attentions of prey circling above.
And, additionally, no other game bird is so dependent on so few sources as the sage grouse. While this is certainly not anomalous behavior in a climate where a foot of rainfall in a 12-month period takes on heroic and monsoon-like proportions, it is species specific and of tactical interest to the hunter. In the colder months, the diet is almost exclusively sage. This varies only slightly in spring and summer when the birds dine graciously on insects like grasshoppers and also feed in adjacent fields on the likes of "volunteer" what and alfalfa.
In other words, as the hunting season progresses and the average temperature declines, the combination of sage brush and water will translate into grouse. A simple and productive equation.
AT FIRST APPEARANCE SAGE BRUSH looks like a plant that you can just walk through or over. Nothing could be further from the truth. The base of the plant is unyielding and smaller limbs are wiry and tough. Branches spring back with amazing vengeance, leaving welts and bruises of serious dimensions. Thick congregations of the plant translate into tiring days in the field.
In this tough, arid jungle the sage grouse finds the necessities of life which are not all that different than those required by the rest of us--food, shelter-security and, often, moisture. A sage brush prairie is in reality a miniature forest. It is all a matter of perspective and from the grouse's ground-level point of view a three-foot tall bush takes on redwood dimensions. In such habitat a sage hen is lost to much of the predatory world. It is all but invisible to the hawks soaring hungrily above; the ubiquitous ground squirrel creates far greater mayhem in the sage hen's world. Badgers and coyotes are not high on the favorites list either.
The grouse can travel from copse to copse of sage with impunity. Distances are measured in increments of several feet, greatly reducing risks commonly associated with movement in open country.
The big birds have been found up as high as 10,000 feet, but in Montana where they are now most abundant, the grouse are more common in the 4,000- to 5,000-foot range. Out away from the scattered bursts of mountains that dot the central Montana skyline, moisture is an uncommon friend. Streams, lakes, and ponds are infrequent acquaintances. Find an expanse of sage brush with a ranch pond plopped in the middle or a tiny creek trickling along a brief cut in the earth and you'll find sage hens, in good numbers. Add a little CRP acreage early in the season and you're in sage hen nirvana.
In fact, there is now so much prime bird habitat in the Lewistown area as a result of CRP that in a year of normal rainfall finding the grouse in the early season can be difficult and very frustrating. Everywhere you look, there is cover for the birds. Even with dogs the hunting in September and the first part of October can be long and hard and the action sporadic.
MANY ESCHEW THE USE OF DOGS for these grouse and this is probably a mistake. Coupled with the difficulty of finding the birds in the first place is the problem of locating them after they are down. With miles and miles of sage brush stretching off into long-distance splendor, one clump looks just like another. Dogs are an excellent form of bird conservation.
Sage grouse are gregarious by nature and it is amazing how many of them can pop into the air from one batch of sage brush. Their dark coloration blends in perfectly with their surroundings.
Early in the season you will often jump just one or two birds, but as November approaches concentrations increase rapidly and groups of over 100 are not uncommon.
The birds were easy to find, quick to take wing, and present in good numbers. Two flurries of shooting produced limits. Walking back to the truck, red sun setting behind some mountains with a cold wind blowing, seemed not so bad a way to end a good day out here.
Weather: Early in the season the weather can reach the mid-80s with nary a cloud in the sky or a breath of wind, but by November pleasant days are the exception and rain, sleet, snow, and wind are common. Remember, this country is not that far from Canada so be prepared for any kind of situation by bringing plenty of clothing and rain gear. Layers of clothes that can be easily removed and put back on again are best for adjusting to the rapidly changing conditions.
Arrangements: The nearest airport of any size is about 115 miles west on Highway 87 at Great Falls. This facility is serviced by a number of major airlines and a commuter flight into Lewistown is presently available (air service in Montana comes and goes so it is wise to have your travel agent check on current conditions.) Car rentals are available at the airport.
Guns: Any good bird gun with improved modified or modified chokes and field loads will do. These are big birds and take a little more to kill than other grouse. (Full choke is optional.)
Outfitters: There are a number of reputable outfitters in the Lewistown area, but these two I have first-hand experience with and they are both good: DC Outfitting, Richard Cox, Gilt Edge Road, Lewistown, MT 59457, (406)538-7821. Yellowater Outfitters, Roy G. Olsen, Box 836, Grassrange, MT 59032, (406)428-2195.
Other Information: Lewistown has a number of motels and restaurants with the Yogo Inn being the largest. There is also a restaurant and cafe at the Inn which can be reached at 211 East Main Street, Box 939, Lewistown, MT 59457, (406)538-8721. Don's Western Outdoor Specialists at 120 2nd Avenue South, Box 780 (406/538-9408) has licenses, shells, shotguns, and current hunting information. Ask for Jack Spicir. He knows what's going on around here. The Montana Promotion Division puts out a number of reliable brochures including the 1990 Montana Travel Planner and The Montana Vacation Guide, along with a state highway map. You can obtain these by calling (800)541-1447.
Home | Library | Hunting | Wingshooting