Garry L Gordon
10-09-2026, 07:01 AM
Life doesn't always go as planned, but when it does, it makes for a bucket list check-off.
Because of the generosity of my friend and fellow PGCA member, Dean Weber, I spent two glorious (but hot!) days on the South Dakota prairie chasing prairie chickens. I'd tried for chickens over the years in Kansas, for Greaters in the Flint Hills and on the Cimmarron Grasslands trying for Lessers back when they could be hunted. I wanted birds taken on walking hunts -- with dogs, not pass shooting on the edge of crop fields. Chickens are special, the places they live are special...and hunting them is...well...just different.
I was hunting with fiends of Dean's and with an outfitter who knows his chickens. While I'd read much about hunting prairie chickens, and spent some boot leather chasing them (unsuccessfully, I might add), I quickly learned that what I thought I knew was...just, plain wrong. I learned that the best way to consistently get chickens in the air within range was to scout them like big game...and to go later in the day when they were "sleeping." This approach could be the subject of a dissertation, and I was the student in the evenings at "Chicken Camp" taking it all in.
It was really too hot for my dogs, but I was graced with a couple of opportunities to walk the vast mid-grass prairie with my dog, Rill, and my friend, Dean. And while those outings did not produce chickens in the game bag, they will be the times I will take with me to wherever it is that old bird hunters go after that last hunt.
Photos:
1. We are graced with very little light pollution in our North Missouri, but the South Dakota night sky is worth the price of admission, especially nice when the coyotes provide a soundtrack. The air is dry and fresh...always.
2. As a student of the prairie, I have read accounts of settlers having gone mad from the vastness of the space, but for me it makes meaning. I won't forget walking the grass with Dean and my little Rill, trying to get far enough ahead of a point to get within range when they flushed. The only sound is the swish of grass against your boots.
3. Hunting with the rest of the group meant walking the line across the prairie. There's much to cover, and I quickly learned, much to my chagrin, that I was an old man walking with younger guys. We marched in formation and scoured fields much larger than a section. It was an eye opening experience to walk the line and flush birds just often enough to make you expectant. There's a lot of room out there!
4. Dean and I were the only double gun users on the hunt. It was satisfying to get within range of chickens and watch them fall to our Parkers. Dean used a sweet little 16, and my gun of choice was an 1897 BHE 12 choked tightly to be able to reach its one ounce load of copper 6s for what proved to be long shooting.
5. How rare is this(!?) -- a limit of chickens taken with a small gauge gun from another century. Dean shot a Holland and Holland 16 the first day, but used his little Parker on day 2. He said he shot it better. I'd say he did.
6. This is the real hunt -- to get a chance at a prairie bird over a point from your own dog. If you're wondering -- yes -- Elaine was with us and kept her camera busy...and the dogs well cared for.
7. The last night at chicken camp. Time to linger at the truck with the dogs and try to take it all in.
Because of the generosity of my friend and fellow PGCA member, Dean Weber, I spent two glorious (but hot!) days on the South Dakota prairie chasing prairie chickens. I'd tried for chickens over the years in Kansas, for Greaters in the Flint Hills and on the Cimmarron Grasslands trying for Lessers back when they could be hunted. I wanted birds taken on walking hunts -- with dogs, not pass shooting on the edge of crop fields. Chickens are special, the places they live are special...and hunting them is...well...just different.
I was hunting with fiends of Dean's and with an outfitter who knows his chickens. While I'd read much about hunting prairie chickens, and spent some boot leather chasing them (unsuccessfully, I might add), I quickly learned that what I thought I knew was...just, plain wrong. I learned that the best way to consistently get chickens in the air within range was to scout them like big game...and to go later in the day when they were "sleeping." This approach could be the subject of a dissertation, and I was the student in the evenings at "Chicken Camp" taking it all in.
It was really too hot for my dogs, but I was graced with a couple of opportunities to walk the vast mid-grass prairie with my dog, Rill, and my friend, Dean. And while those outings did not produce chickens in the game bag, they will be the times I will take with me to wherever it is that old bird hunters go after that last hunt.
Photos:
1. We are graced with very little light pollution in our North Missouri, but the South Dakota night sky is worth the price of admission, especially nice when the coyotes provide a soundtrack. The air is dry and fresh...always.
2. As a student of the prairie, I have read accounts of settlers having gone mad from the vastness of the space, but for me it makes meaning. I won't forget walking the grass with Dean and my little Rill, trying to get far enough ahead of a point to get within range when they flushed. The only sound is the swish of grass against your boots.
3. Hunting with the rest of the group meant walking the line across the prairie. There's much to cover, and I quickly learned, much to my chagrin, that I was an old man walking with younger guys. We marched in formation and scoured fields much larger than a section. It was an eye opening experience to walk the line and flush birds just often enough to make you expectant. There's a lot of room out there!
4. Dean and I were the only double gun users on the hunt. It was satisfying to get within range of chickens and watch them fall to our Parkers. Dean used a sweet little 16, and my gun of choice was an 1897 BHE 12 choked tightly to be able to reach its one ounce load of copper 6s for what proved to be long shooting.
5. How rare is this(!?) -- a limit of chickens taken with a small gauge gun from another century. Dean shot a Holland and Holland 16 the first day, but used his little Parker on day 2. He said he shot it better. I'd say he did.
6. This is the real hunt -- to get a chance at a prairie bird over a point from your own dog. If you're wondering -- yes -- Elaine was with us and kept her camera busy...and the dogs well cared for.
7. The last night at chicken camp. Time to linger at the truck with the dogs and try to take it all in.