The first half of the 2014 Upland Season is over and it’s been a whirlwind of travel all across the country. But this last trip to South Dakota hunting in brutally cold conditions was a great reminder that some of the best memories afield come from facing adversity and overcoming.
Brian founded Ultimate Upland in 2010 to be the most comprehensive resource for upland hunting enthusiasts. Since then it has grown into a community where bird hunters congregate and share their love for the sport. Brian shares detailed accounts of Ultimate Upland adventures in pursuit of wild birds in the wildest places.
Koch is joined afield by hunting partners Labs and Llews.
I make the annual pilgrimage to Kansas to reunite with old friends and family. It reminds me of where my passion for bird hunting was first kindled. Because this year was no exception to the rule, Kansas seemed like the right place to bring together our young Jornada Llewellin Rio with our veteran flusher Wyatt…
There has been a lot of news about the terribly dry conditions across the bulk of the country this year. This news sparked many early negative predictions for the upland populations. If you read much about the lifecycle of upland birds though, most don’t require much water when they are young. So unlike harsh winters…
Climbing mountains, the only way to really know how bad climbing mountains with heavy packs is gonna be. And getting the young Setter, Hawk, more familiar with the grind.
Wyatt knows he’s black. He also knows this is the color of night. He’s been able to surmise that humans have terrible night vision. During daylight hours when we take breaks from hunting, he plots. He knows most mischief will not fly in the light of day. Raiding other camps, gnawing a nearby rotting deer…
I can feel him in the distance looking down on us. The Deacon of this mountain is unimpressed with our pace and route. Yet this goat still watches as one worn little setter leads us up a chute 1,500 feet below the pulpit he’s chosen. Every now and then I glance skyward to see…
The alarm starts chiming, but it feels like I just laid my head down only minutes ago. It can’t be daybreak yet. I must have set the alarm incorrectly. I pick up the phone to turn off the now blaring Alice in Chains’ “Rooster” and the clock reads 5:15am. Ugh. The bird hunters’ alarm doesn’t…