Personal History: An Arizona Quail Journey
I'm not a native. In 1957 at age 10 my family lived in Beaver County Panhandle (Dustbowl) Oklahoma. Dad hunted bobwhites and pheasants with two good English setters. We moved in '57 to Snowflake, Arizona. At age 12 in 1959 I began hunting Gambel's quail. Everyone carried Remington 12 ga 870's. Dad gave his setters away to friends before he left Okla. Two reasons: (1) Ariz didn't have quail, i.e. bobwhites and (2) you can't hunt bird dogs in Arizona because everything pokes, stings, sticks, cuts, bites, i.e., cacti, catclaw, shin dagger, and rattlesnakes. Looking back, Dad might've been one of the first bird hunters in Ariz to use setters for desert quail. Ah, what might've been.
We moved to Tuba City, Ariz on the border of the Navajo and Hopi reservations during my Junior High years (1960-1963) and hunted Gambel's in the Verde Valley and the NW corner in Mojave County. The 60's, late 70's, 80's were golden years for Ariz bird numbers. Just start hiking and carry plenty of shells. I still stay in contact with hunters who live in the Verde Valley. And it is common to hike all day and feel lucky to see a bird. Of all the areas in Arizona ripe for trying a quail transplant experiment to attempt re-population of Gambel's quail, the Verde Valley would seem prime.
I learned to enjoy the outdoors from my Dad. Deer hunting, fishing, bird hunting, camping, hiking, gardening. We did what he called "throw down camping." Haul gear in the back of an old pickup truck, then "throw it down" on the ground to make camp. Propane Coleman stove, bags on the ground (and sometime on the snow), coffee over the campfire, Mom's venison chili in a 3 lb. coffee can. Great memories. And, to this day, I relish getting back into the real world. Away from the flickering screen, the household chores, the obligations and responsibilities of mortgages, bill, and chores. Most of a man's troubles come from not being able to "sit, alone, quietly under a tree and like the company that he keeps."
During my high school and college years I attended Aqua Fria H.S. in west Maricopa County and played third base 4 years at Grand Canyon University (1964-1970). We hunted birds then south, west and northwest of Phoenix. I taught H.S. chemistry and biology for 25 years including Round Valley H.S. in the White Mts near the NM border and finished my career as a building principal in central Arizona. During those years I hunted Gambel's and scalies all over central, eastern, southern, southeastern Ariz and into New Mexico. I have seen and experienced so many areas of Arizona simply because I was searching for the next spring, the next pocket, the next honey hole, the next camp.
At heart, I'm a desert bird guy. I kept hearing about these gawdy cousins "down south" and in 2000 I was introduced to Mearns' by Dave Lukens, a retired fighter pilot out of Luke AF Base, Litchfield Park. I love the habitat and to this day I'm grateful to Dave for his generous spirit and mentorship. Hard to even believe those oak covered grassy ridges were even in Arizona. Still, to me Mearns' quail are a novelty . A completely unique species in a very limited geographical region. Most years I hunt for Mearns' rarely and some seasons not at all. The added hunter pressure from both residents and non-residents is part of that decision. It ruins the whole experience for me to have to compete for a spot to hike, so I don't. I just move on.
Population of Arizona in 1960 = 1.3 million Current population of Arizona = 7.49 million
Much of upland hunting to me is a solo experience. Just me and the bird dogs. Walking slowly, quietly, enjoying the dogs and the day, shooting just enough. Notable exceptions are family, old friends, and mentoring a new, young hunter as my Dad did for me. I really enjoy that.
My first bird dog was a big GSP in 1974. Following him, I had 3 Amer Britts and 8 Fr. Britts. One can learn a great deal about a hunter by observing his relationship with his dog. In "A Hunter's Road," by Jim Fergus, he talks about a "spiritual alliance between man and dog that to him is fundamental to an appreciation and enjoyment of the sport. It's almost a primordial state that we achieve hunting together day after day." And as my Dad often said, "A pup keeps you young."
I have been blessed. 1959 - 2024. 65 years of hiking these beautiful hills. It brings a lump to my throat. Forgive the nostalgia, the musings of an ol' codger quail hunter with more years behind him than in front of him. I continue to plan for the next season, but I write it in pencil. :-)
See you in the hills with my Britts. Bob C., April 17, 2024
At heart, I'm a desert bird guy. I kept hearing about these gawdy cousins "down south" and in 2000 I was introduced to Mearns' by Dave Lukens, a retired fighter pilot out of Luke AF Base, Litchfield Park. I love the habitat and to this day I'm grateful to Dave for his generous spirit and mentorship. Hard to even believe those oak covered grassy ridges were even in Arizona. Still, to me Mearns' quail are a novelty . A completely unique species in a very limited geographical region. Most years I hunt for Mearns' rarely and some seasons not at all. The added hunter pressure from both residents and non-residents is part of that decision. It ruins the whole experience for me to have to compete for a spot to hike, so I don't. I just move on.
Population of Arizona in 1960 = 1.3 million Current population of Arizona = 7.49 million
Much of upland hunting to me is a solo experience. Just me and the bird dogs. Walking slowly, quietly, enjoying the dogs and the day, shooting just enough. Notable exceptions are family, old friends, and mentoring a new, young hunter as my Dad did for me. I really enjoy that.
My first bird dog was a big GSP in 1974. Following him, I had 3 Amer Britts and 8 Fr. Britts. One can learn a great deal about a hunter by observing his relationship with his dog. In "A Hunter's Road," by Jim Fergus, he talks about a "spiritual alliance between man and dog that to him is fundamental to an appreciation and enjoyment of the sport. It's almost a primordial state that we achieve hunting together day after day." And as my Dad often said, "A pup keeps you young."
I have been blessed. 1959 - 2024. 65 years of hiking these beautiful hills. It brings a lump to my throat. Forgive the nostalgia, the musings of an ol' codger quail hunter with more years behind him than in front of him. I continue to plan for the next season, but I write it in pencil. :-)
See you in the hills with my Britts. Bob C., April 17, 2024