Phil Barhorst finds the range on an Iowa rooster during our quick-turnaround trip to the Hawkeye state. (Press Pros Feature Photos)
Before the Buckeyes game tomorrow, and while Bugtussle U plays in the Walking Taco bowl, we take some time out for the snowy pheasant fields of Iowa.
Riverside, Iowa – This will come as no surprise to many. For nearly twenty five years I”ve come to Iowa to pheasant hunt during the week between Christmas and New Year.
Family has always asked, “Why now?” It’s my daughter’s birthday, born December 27, 1988.
But for the sake of pheasant hunting, everyone else is home celebrating the holidays, so this is the time. Literally, there’s very few people with bird hunting as a priority…and frankly, I have a very understanding wife. I don’t have a lot of expensive hobbies – no golf, no boats, and I don’t own a Cessna.
As outdoors columnist Ray Reilly recently wrote, you can’t pheasant hunt in Ohio because there are no pheasants. In fact, the ODNR reports that there’s probably less than 5,000 wild birds in the entire state.
So, if you want to…you have to travel. And I choose Iowa City because I’ve had friends here for years, they farm, and even though the pheasant numbers are down from what they once were, they still harvest nearly a half million roosters a year in the Hawkeye State.
Adam Ruess with his Irish Setter, Penny, shows off a flashing Iowa rooster.
So when friend and Fort Loramie businessman Phil Barhorst asked last spring, “If you ever have room for someone to go with you, I’d love to go” I told him…”You’re on.”
That said, Phil and I made the seven hour drive on Wednesday, just ahead of one of those Iowa storms that dumped a couple of inches of wet snow to make it prettier, if not more wet and miserable on hunters and dogs, alike.
And to give you a further idea of how patched-together a quick-turnaround hunt like this can get, another friend, Kreg Huffer, offered his dog, Winston, for the trip.
“He needs the work,” said Huffer. “He’d love to go.”
So Thursday morning long-time friend Ben Hotz, his friend Adam Ruess, Barhorst and I hunted at Highland Hideaway in nearby Riverside, Iowa…as good as an Orvis resort, without the Orvis price. Two thousand acres, and professionally managed for plenty of vintage Iowa pheasant hunting.
Ben, Adam and Phil handled the shotgun part of things while I managed a Nikon, needing some shots for other writing projects in the works for print publications.
And for the record…if you’ve ever had Phil Barhorts and Ruhenkamp’s boring and trenching services fix that wet spot in your yard or a farm field, he’s also very adept with a Remington shotgun, as well. He quickly picked up his limit of roosters within the first hour of the hunt.
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Ben Hotz is a former Iowa state trapshooting champion, and he got on the scoreboard just as fast with a couple of big Hawkeye cockbirds as the wind picked up and the snow moved in from the northwest.
Adam Ruess probably made the best shot of the day when he dumped a bird at the extreme edge of shotgun range…after everyone else had missed.
And yes…Winston, the big Curly Coat Retriever, was having a field day. He made every retrieve, and frankly saved us at least four birds that would have been lost if it weren’t for his nose.
Why dogs are so special…if not for the work of ‘Winston’ we probably lose at least four birds that we wouldn’t have found.
After a quick lunch and about a gallon of hot coffee, we went back out for the afternoon in the midst of an added inch of snow on the ground, gathering gusts up to 20 mph, and to put it mildly…miserable conditions. Hunting now by himself, Winston was unfazed, and as the snow and wind made hungting impossible, we still were able to add three more roosters to the bag limit for the day.
If you’re sitting there wondering why…well, for lack of a better reason pheasant not only tastes like chicken, it’s better than chicken. And given proper advance notice, one of my favorite Asian restaurants in central Ohio will prepare pheasant that is better than any other wild game meal I’ve ever tasted – or domestic, for that matter.
The other reason is simply the joy of being in the wild, appreciating nature’s bounty in the tradition of what was once a treasured means of putting food on the table. And of course, vintage shotguns are an losy American art. And yes, Winston, the Curly Coat Retriever. He slept well after a day of ten miles of running through the weeds, the snow, and a couple of creeks in the freezing temperatures.
Of course this all ends tomorrow, with dinner planned with friends and the viewing of the Buckeyes in the Cotton Bowl; and the hometown Hawkeyes play Tennessee on New Year’s Day in the Citrus Bowl.
And being of good German descent, Phil Barhorst will be home in plenty of time for pork and sauerkraut on New Year’s Eve.
That’s good eatin’, sure enough, but it doesn’t taste like chicken.
And trust me…not nearly as good as pheasant fixed with broccoli, Thai-style!
Friends in the pheasant fields…(left to right) Ben Hotz, Phil Barhorst, Adam Ruess, and dogs (Winston, left, and Penny)
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