PUBLIC UPLAND

My best buddy’s dad stopped the van and waited for Jeff and me to get out with our shotguns, shells, vests, and a dog or two. We were in western Kansas, and the plan was for Jeff and me to walk a grassy drainage ditch between two wheat-stubble fields all the way across the 1-mile section. His dad would pick us up at the other end. We figured we’d find a ring-necked pheasant or two hiding in the ditch’s heavy cover.

Jeff and I had high hopes for our first hunt of the year, but we never expected what would happen as we began to work the ditch. We hadn’t gone 50 yards before roosters began flushing from the heavy cover. Birds flew, guns boomed and feathers floated to the ground. Pheasants were retrieved, and before they could be placed in our game bags, others would flush. More shooting soon followed.

We made it less than a quarter mile before we filled our limits of fat ring-necks. Guns unloaded, we were not looking forward to the long, heavily laden walk to the vehicle. We made it a quick jaunt, though, because we