ARTICLES
HIGH PLAINS HUNTING
By Perry Cole

It was hot. Hot as a firecracker on the fourth of July. It was too hot to hunt, but we hunted anyway. It was October 18, 2003, Indian summer at high noon. It was opening day of pheasant season, the day we had waited another year for.
Mister and Mandy, my seasoned English Setters, were joined by Charles Farkas and me for the 1300 mile journey to the "Pheasant Capital of the World" – Winner, South Dakota. Just a few miles northwest of Winner lies my farm where we raise wheat, corn, sunflowers, milo, hay, and wildlife. Joining us in Winner were my good friends Sammy and Andy Johnson of Vernon, AL and also Larry Gremminger of Houston, and Richard Jackson and Jackie Kenley of Memphis.

The temperature was 90 degrees at noon when we entered the "honey hole" - the corner east of the corn field and just below the pond in the east quarter. The honey hole was waist high in koccia weed, cain and prairie grass, thanks to the welcomed spring rains. The first birds to fly were a couple of hens, and then a couple of roosters launched, followed by the sounds of our shotguns. Our heartbeats must have exceeded the heat index!

After knocking down a few roosters in the honey hole, our confidence in our shooting skills was confirmed. The annual question of if and how many birds were there was answered. Once again we were opening another season of pheasant hunting in the High Plains, and regardless of the unseasonable heat, we were happy to be there.

As we slowly proceeded through the corn field we were greeted by pheasants flushing up through the dry corn stalks hoping to escape our shot. After our initial push through the cornfield, we headed for the shade to take a break. The southeast corner of the old homestead house provided just enough shade for us to escape the scorching sun. Our dogs just could not understand why they had to remain in their kennels in the shade until the day was almost over. Their whining and yelping was so hard to leave behind. The break for the dogs ended around 5:00 p.m, when the sun finally gave up some heat. It was like starting our hunt all over once the dogs were released. By the end of the day our bags were filled and our dreams of a near perfect opening day had come true. We continued our hunt over the next couple of days, finding pheasants in the draws, fence rows, and corn and prairie grass fields.

One of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen is a South Dakota sunset. As we sat and watched the sun fade away over the prairie in the western sky, the day we had waited another year for was completed.

On November 7th, Charlie and I returned to Winner for opening day of deer season. With ten inches of snow on the ground it was hard to imagine the ninety-degree days we endured just three weeks before.

This was the first deer hunt in South Dakota for both of us. Charlie had drawn a tag for "any whitetail deer" and my tag was for "any deer". We felt fortunate to have successfully drawn our tags and we were excited about hunting deer in the high plains. My goal was to find a nice mule deer buck since this was my first opportunity to hunt mule deer. Charlie was hoping for a nice racked whitetail buck.

We arrived on Friday afternoon and used the remaining daylight to scout the property and decide where we would begin our hunt. The huge stacks of hay around the fields provided several excellent locations for our ladder stands. With wide areas of view, a backdrop for cover and a windbreak, the haystacks made ideal stands. Charlie’s stand overlooked the southeast end of the cornfield near the honey hole and my stand overlooked the ravine that meanders through the grass fields of the far south quarter. Our elevated stands provided awesome views of the snow-covered prairies.

As the morning sun began to glisten the blanket of snow, I was ama-zed to see many trails of wildlife tracks. By the end of the opening day, we had seen approximately thirty-eight deer, a herd of antelope, several flocks of ducks and geese, and several pheasants and rabbits.
On the afternoon of the third day of our hunt Charlie elected to harvest a nice whitetail doe and on the morning of the fourth day I got my first muley buck. He did not have a huge rack but he was a trophy and topped off a great experience of High Plains deer hunting. After donating our venison to a local charity we headed back home, sharing the memories of our snowy adventure.