Successful Sage Hen Opener
Sage hen, North America's biggest grouse, have declined precipitously. With our six year drought they have crashed in many traditional places, and West Nile Virus and big mining have been big factors.
The proliferation of cheat grass replacing sage brush after fires has pushed the birds onto fewer areas unaffected by burns.
That being said, we have some huntable populations in various areas of my state of Nevada. Nevada is about 7,000 square miles larger than New Zeland and is the most arid of all 50 states.
Our season this year closed an area I traditionally hunt, and it's a good thing. The 2+ week season had the birds chased off critical watering springs and constantly moved = stressed.
An area where I hunted in my youth and young manhood has moderately good remaining populations and this year a two day season, ending today, Sunday here. The limit was two birds per day and in possession, so call it two birds.
My grandson, Owen, and I drove the 4 hours to Hayes Peak in northern Washoe County (6,500 square miles) and set up a quick camp at the road's summit with our 3/4 ton PU and C/O camper and Polaris RZR.
Yesterday morning at first light we went to the top of a nearby peak, and Owen busted his first bird of the hunt when a flock of 15 birds flushed out at 40 yards. He ran onto another flock of 10 birds an hour later and took his second and last bird.
I was lower on the mountain and not able to cover the miles he did ( per GPS he walked 9 1/2 miles and I 4 miles), I didn't get into birds close enough for a shot; sagehen flush wild or wilder.
After a short breakfast break we rode up the road toward Hayes Peak at an elevation of 6,900'. Hayes is 7,920 at it's summit. I spotted a BIG rooster sneaking into a patch of heavier sage, drove 50 yards past, and got out after him. A flock of 10 birds at the rim of the ridge flushed, and I shot one as it was dipping over the ridge. I didn't take a second shot at a second bird for my limit, as the first bird would fall about 150-200 feet down over the rim, and a second bird, not well spotted, might well be lost.
We found the bird after 20 minutes and headed back down to hunt a mountain peak where Owen had driven the last flock he shot into. He said he knew where they were, and he was right. We walked by them about 20 yards away, they got up surprising us, and I dropped my second and final bird, ending our traditional grandson/grampa sagehen hunt for another year. It might be the last if the bunny-huggers have their way.
The photos from Owen's phone are fuzzy since he last dropped it.
https://i.imgur.com/XE09XOI.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/nGxktHo.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/jAqm9Vq.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/3vUFT63.jpg
Hell's Gate that we need to squeeze through at the bottom of the mountain. The camper has 4" of clearance between the rocks.
https://i.imgur.com/2Ivx97E.jpg
