New ground

By Cletus Bianchi

Traveling thirty-five hundred miles in pursuit of upland birds might beg the question ‘why?’ especially if you are not a hunter and gas prices are over two dollars.

In the past, I have elaborated on the magic that is a rooster pheasant rocketing away in an explosion of wings and color from a rock-solid point by a little dog on a frosty morning. Truthfully, it’s one of those ‘you had to be there’ sorts of things. Pages and pages of description could not capture the essence of that split second.

Or the attention of a non-hunter.

On this most recent trip, I fully embraced the importance of everything about the trip that is not hunting.

It all started as every vacation or hunting and fishing trip always does for me…with maps and research. I spent the first hundred or so miles up IH-35 poring over maps, marking potential hunting areas, and reviewing game reports.

I’m a very big fan of the Delorme Atlas and Gazetteers available for nearly every state. Highly detailed, these map books indicate topographic features and gravel roads, right down to driveways into farms. When venturing into unfamiliar areas in pursuit of birds, I like to have a feel for where creeks, hills, and other features are located.

Since this was a return trip to Nebraska, we already had a good idea where to find birds. My companion added a new twist after our first day of hunting when he requested ‘new ground’ for the following day’s hunt.

Undaunted, I flipped a few map pages and we set off in a different direction the next day. And the next. And then into Iowa.

If you’ve never traveled the Midwest, you might readily assume it is nothing more than mile after mile of cornfields, milo fields, wheat fields, and grain elevators. On the surface, you would be correct.

As in so many other things however, if you’d look a little deeper, into the fields, grasses or tiny towns, you would find the little things that make nearly every place special…and beautiful.

Here is a bird’s nest made from mud and grasses. There is a deer that dwarfs the largest buck I’ve ever seen. This town has a café that makes the best hamburgers or awesome pumpkin pies.

Lie down in a CRP field of waist-deep grasses and you can experience what a little dog sees and smells as she pursues birds. You also understand how easily the birds can bury themselves to hide or escape the howling winds.

If you are bold enough to wear your Longhorn cap into a local beer joint, you solicit college football conversations from both sides of the field. Every fan has a game, coach or player that has caused frustration.

Since upland hunting is really just a fancy term for miles and miles of walking, you can experience the same wonder on a smaller scale in every field. Lessons are learned from the way birds exit thickets or the types of cover they prefer. Since we concentrated on new fields at every stop, there was always something new to evaluate or learn.

I suppose learning is the primary appeal of travel for me. Whether it’s a new culture, new restaurant, new field or new road, there’s something exciting about the exploration. Nearly every turn on every road offers something new or different, if we only take the time to explore.

Traversing the same midwestern paths used by American pioneers really emphasizes that spirit of adventure and exploration. The accomplishments of Lewis and Clark are better appreciated after crossing the Missouri River and then tracing its course to the northwest on a map. A four-wheel drive suburban with heated seats is probably not a realistic comparison to a Conestoga wagon, especially since the highways are paved and the rivers bridged. But if you try hard enough, you can gain a little appreciation for the obstacles overcome a century or more ago.

I sometimes wonder what sort of pioneer I might have been. If I found the perfect land with the best soil, the freshest water and abundant game, could I build my cabin and be satisfied? Or would I soon be wandering upstream, around the bend, or over the next mountain?

Cable television, air-conditioning, and other modern conveniences make such musings inconclusive. We tend to be complacent when our situation gets comfortable. Besides, there are not many unexplored acres left on this planet.

What’s ‘new’ about any ground is how I perceive it. From the largest cities to the smallest towns, the people have always struck me as the most interesting (though not always most beautiful) aspects of new ground. Landscapes are beautiful…people are interesting.

Even when returning to a special place, it is our perception of the place that makes it special. Have you ever returned to a place that was as romantic, as beautiful, as full of fish or game, or as fun as the first time you were there? We are loathe to give up or replace our fondest memories. Since it is so difficult to replicate a special moment, it is usually best to make new memories, no matter where we are.

Since their introduction to North America in 1886, pheasants have spread from coast to coast and are currently found in twenty-four states. I’ve only hunted them in three.

Lucky for me, huh?

(click here to read archived columns by Cletus Bianchi)