An Oregon Sage Grouse Adventure

​I was extended an invitation to join an Oregon Controlled Sage Grouse hunt a few months ago by an old friend, and naturally I jumped on the chance and submitted my application for the chosen areas. Then the waiting began… and I was lucky to be drawn for the area we were all hoping to get!
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A little bit of background on Oregon’s controlled Sage Grouse hunt: Oregon has the most conservative hunting season on Sage Grouse out of all the states which allow hunting of the species. All areas where the birds may be found have been broken down into units, each with their own limited number of tags to be drawn. A unit may allow as few as 25 tags, or as many as 100, or something in between. The limit for the entire season is only two birds! With that, Oregon is allowing their Sage Grouse to be hunted, but only at a level well below what the area can support. Of interest, it is assumed up to 30% of those drawn don’t even get out to hunt! 

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​With that all being said, getting out to hunt Sage Grouse in Oregon is amazing, and the number of other hunters you will encounter is very limited, as you might expect with a Controlled Hunt. These locations, in general, are also well off the beaten path, with very limited service, or none at all. This goes well beyond cell service, to fuel, food, and supplies – so if you don’t have it, don’t plan on getting it.
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Nick, Dominic, and I assembled near Burns, OR and convoyed to our camp location, situated deep within Oregon’s Owyhee country. With a long trundle over some rough BLM roads, we quickly tossed together camp and deployed Nick’s side by side UTV to scout the area we were most interested in. The trail was incredibly rough, the country so big, the vistas stunning, and Dom’s expired Gardetto's snacks tasted better than ever.

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​We investigated several likely spots for sign and weren’t disappointed. We even spied a covey of Chukar close to the trail. Shortly after turning back towards camp, feeling satisfied with a half-baked plan for the morning, the check engine light on the UTV began to shine brightly. No additional error codes shown. We checked the fluids and even cleaned a surprising amount of moon dust out of the air filter. The warning light cleared for a moment, then returned for good… We parked the rig just off the trail and began the long walk back to camp with the sun in a hurry to retire for the day. For the moment the storms, off in the distance held their stance, but the air temps dropped as the wind picked up. Nick was the most prepared, but in the big scheme of things, it wasn’t much. Thankfully he shared his jacket with me, since I run cold! Dom had brought a puppy along, and that was it. A long walk, what we estimated to be a solid six miles, perhaps as the crow could fly to camp, but not as the trail ran. 

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​Spirits remained high as we walked as rapidly as the trail would allow, marveling over Dom’s little pup zipping to and fro non-stop. After about an hour, Nick pulled up his OnX and declared we still had five miles to go. I have to admit, I felt a little bit defeated, I want to think Dom did as well. We had the glow of the sun reflecting off the clouds, and each other…we walked. After what felt like a long time, in the last remaining glow of the sun, Nick pulled up his OnX and updated us. Only five more miles to go! Now wait just a minute! We checked our own OnXs and we were on the correct track and had been making progress. I didn’t have the heart to measure – just walk. It was dark, the winds blustering, and on occasion we were given a few light drizzles of rain. This was getting interesting.

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​We made it to the one area on the trail that had cell service, and Dom texted the last remaining member of the party our situation, and Aaron knew to head our way versus get comfortable at camp. In the end, he found us about half a mile from camp.  Still, it never felt so good to catch that ride! The wind continued to pick up, it was late, and that was a wrap. Over 700 words in, and we haven’t even hunted…
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Hunting the next morning we were gifted with dramatic skies, which only served to take what was already beautiful to a whole new level. I love days like this. We picked a totally different area to hunt from what we had scouted, several miles away no less. A super interesting area that looked like Sage Grouse. Aaron and Dom took one loop, Nick and I the other most likely loop. Nick and I found sign here and there, but nothing as fresh as what we were hoping for. Nick and I spread out a bit more to cover more area. As it goes, within a short while, he was able to get a nice point, lots of photos, and a shot! At about this time, I’m watching grouse fly from the hilltop in front of me in fits and spurts. Aaron, had taken his two grouse via .410 in short order – giddyap!

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​We explored more and made more contact. I’m now of the impression hunting Sage Grouse on the high desert is much like hunting Pheasent in thin cover. They either flush well outside of range, hunker down and let you pass, or run like hell then pop smoke and disappear like some kind of mad David Copperfield trick even with multiple dogs in pursuit.
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Nearly 1,000words in, and I have yet to even shoot, and the Can-Am rescue operation has yet to take place… oh, my. Getting to the point isn’t always my strongest suit, but hey if you have made it this far, I’ll try to be a little more succinct.

​We had all agreed that once it became too hot to run the dogs to hunt, we would mount the recovery operation for the UTV, and so we did. As we trundled and bounced along, Aaron indicated he had seen grouse from the trail. They flew, some left and some right. I dropped Ila without a collar, wearing my sneakers, we took off on a trajectory that if I guessed right, would put her under the grouse. It worked! She became birdy and began stalking. Before she established a point, the grouse flew. It was in range of my 28, and I shot. It rocked and dropped a leg but continued – shit! The double tap, it rocked again. Its friend came along side, and it redoubled its effort instead of crashing to Mother Earth. I was panicked. The two  flew a good 100 yards or so when the hit bird suddenly quit, and his buddy landed nearby. Moving towards the birds had Ila and I moving with the wind, so I had to be mindful of where I thought they went down to be able to move her back into favorable winds. Without Ila, the downed bird would never have been found, let alone recovered. They look like any one of a million rocks strewn about the landscape. Now for the long walk back to the trucks in the broiling heat.

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​Rather inadvertently, I watch a fair amount of Matt’s Offroad Recovery on YouTube, which comes up frequently between my investment and cooking shows. We got the Can-Am rigged up and safely towed back to camp and would have made Matt proud! We settled in for dinner and talked about what we had seen thus far. In short, lots of Sage Grouse and not a single walk ended with a zero for contact. From one to a few dozen, pretty incredible. They were beginning to make me think more and more of hunting pheasants but out in the open desert; you might be gifted with an opportunity, but more than likely, you are going to have to work for your opportunity. They run, they hide, they get up out of range to either fly only a short way, or head off to a new zip code and they fly way faster than you think. It was dark, and I thought it was bedtime, and that is when Dom announced it was time to visit the geezers he had met earlier in the morning at their camp – sure why not?

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​We packed our chairs, a few snacks, and a couple of beers and headed out. We shared hunting stories and bad jokes with Griff, Jim, and John. They were a hoot to spend time with. Poor John took a ribbing for his 12-gauge Ruger Red Label. I mean everyone loves a Red Label, but many need a pack mule to schlep one around due to the weight. Not John. Despite his age and smallish stature, he’s tougher than woodpecker lips! Hats off to you sir It was a late night, and I think we all slept well. The night was calm, and the morning came far too quickly.

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​I took a few days off from writing as I wasn’t exactly sure how to wrap this story up. I think hunters might get it… We had a great crew of guys, we hunted a spectacular area – really a tiny subsection of the unit we had drawn, yet there were plenty of places to hunt, and plenty of Sage Grouse to hunt. Every hunt produced at least one bird, and in most cases many more regardless of time of day or heat. I learned a lot about Sage Grouse and their habitat. The difference between what is right, and what is a long walk, is subtle. But, once you know the difference, it does tend to stand out. We saw huge Boomers, mature males, and young of the season. It would be worth going out in the spring when they are on the Lek to watch their ceremonial dancing.

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​I think I became a Sage Grouse hunter on this past trip and taking one bird is plenty enough. They are mediocre table fair, and heaven forbid you take a fully mature adult! The few I have taken over the years didn’t match the toxic sage storm produced by a mature hen Nick described in his kitchen! A Sage Grouse hunt is as much about the land and the company as it is about these amazing prehistoric native birds.
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For more information feel free to reach out, to book a hunt look no further that Bachman Bay Outdoors for your very own Oregon Sage Grouse adventure.

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