Pretty birds

Trudging through teasel could be part of why John Azzopardi says “That’s why it’s called hunting, and not getting,” when describing pheasant hunting in the Flathead recently. Azzopardi and his Brittany, Tess, both love stalking as much as getting when hunting pheasants.
Pheasant hunting is big business here. Even though they’re an introduced species, pheasants aren’t considered invasive. In fact, a lot of land is managed for the birds.
The Chinese ringed neck pheasant has naturalized well in the area’s potholes and grain cover. Dave Steindorf, for one, is managing his land specifically to improve pheasant habitat.
The land he lives on was homesteaded by his family 100 years ago. His 40 acre hunting parcel, though, was sold off by his father in 1966. “He got $10,000 for it,” said Steindorf. “He thought that was a great deal.”
The land is now back in Steindorf’s possession however, after purchasing it last year for ten times his father's deal. In spite of the cost, he's happy to have it back.
Behind the Steindorf house, the newly-purchased land is a mess of thistle and teasel.
It’s got marshy dips and a couple ponds. It’s full of weeds, and a line of trees. It’s perfect pheasant habitat, Steindorf said.
When the land was producing hay or grain for ranchers, he said, there wasn’t the cover and marsh areas necessary for game birds. “There are far more pheasants now than 40 years ago, thanks to habitat improvement,” Steindorf said.
Still, he’d like to get rid of the weeds. Their presence is troublesome, and he’d rather see native grasses or marsh plants on the land, or at least clover and cattail. The pheasants "like marshy areas as cover, and feed on grains in the grain fields,” he explained.
Last year, Steindorf leased his land to hunters for the duration of the game bird season. This year, he wanted that joy himself. He and his pal Azzopardi went out one recent cold but sun struck evening.
To hunt pheasant, you don’t stay in one place. You follow bird dogs who track the fowl’s scent. And the birds are smart, the men say. They duck under cover and run away. It’s a guessing game: hunter can’t see the quarry, and the dogs may be out-witted as well. It can keep a hunter on his feet for hours.
Then there are the many birds that rise, but can't be shot. Hen pheasants are not permitted in the hunt, so you may follow a dog who is tracking a bevy, only to have a flush of birds rise in front of you that you can’t shoot. Younger hens will burst out of the waist-tall teasle to outrace the tracking dogs. If you're easily frustrated, you’ll never make it as a pheasant hunter.
Steindorf said the ratio of hens to roosters is 10 hens for every rooster. And as the season progresses, there are fewer roosters to find.
“This far into it,” Steindorf said, “the roosters hide.”
Steindorf’s wife Tammy used to hunt pheasant as well. Now she waits out the men’s return. “I’ll hunt big game,” Tammy said, “but I don’t want to waste my time on birds.”
Wasting time might be a matter of opinion, but it is true a pheasant doesn’t hold much meat. Only the breast and thighs are used, for the most part, so for your time, a deer will certainly reward you with more freezer fill. But for Steindorf and Azzopardi, the stalking is the fun.
“Ninety percent of the fun is watching the dogs work," Azzopardi quips.
“Just hunting in the Mission Valley is a treat,” he continued. The beauty of the land, the beauty of the birds, the grasslands and ponds all appeal to his sense of aesthetic. “You’re always someplace you can see the mountains,” he said.
On this evening, both Steindorff and Azzopardi bag their limit: three cock pheasants each.
One bird shines with an amazing rainbow of reds, orange and browns, its back a stunning green. The green is the color of the Flathead River, of pale fluoride water that seems to shimmer in the failing light. The feathers are marked with a black Art Deco pattern.
It was an old rooster, the men say, pointing to an ivory spur.
Cock pheasants, they explain, have a thick thorn-like spur that juts from the back of their legs.
The spurs grow longer and change color with age. Small, blunt nubs in chicks grow to long ivory-tipped barbs on three year old birds. They're used primarily to fight other roosters, though Azzopardi tells of watching a cock roll onto his back, and use his spurs to fend off an attacking redtail.
“Old birds are smart,” Azzopardi said.
Pheasant hunting on the Flathead Reservation requires two licenses: a tribal conservation license and a tribal upland bird license. Both can be purchased at local sporting goods stores, including Ronan Sports and Western.