It had been a tough week. Bo and I got into good numbers of valley quail, but chukar and Huns in the heat were tough. We found mega coveys of Huns but they were wild on successive flushes and by the time I felt we had them worn down, so was Bo. And chukar.....what chukar? I heard them, but always on the opposite side of the canyon. Down we'd go, wade the cold stream and up the other side only to hear them chuckling from the side we left a half hour ago. So the hell with chukar and we'd go shoot some quail.

After days of this, I took Bo for a walk searching for muley sheds. Sauntering along a bench, Bo got birdy and up jumped a small covey of Huns! In range! After dropping a shed and fumbling with my gun, I finally got a shot off and the bird fell.

The retrieve was uneventful as the bird fell dead in an opening.

I had visions of Idaho upland bird hunting grandeur before I left home but the reality had been equal parts torture (chukar and Huns) and elation (valley quail and pheasants). I sat with Bo and her Hun in some sage shade thankful that she was finally going to get a new Story Band for her first Idaho Hun, but still a little sorry that there wouldn't be any State Daily Bag Limit bands for chukar or Huns.