I was able to take the New Years day and do a little chasing of my favorite bird in a Southern MN private ground. As usual this time of year, the birds were where we found them, and all my thinking was soon shot out the door on locations.
We started hunting some old pasture land that turns into some thicker cover in a couple hundred yards without so much as a track. We did not find any birds until we hit a section of trees, and man did we find the birds. After counting 14 hens in a row, one old rooser that flushed from the front side tried to cut back and came a little too close. One shot on a hard crosser and the first bird was in the bag.
From there on we hit a ton of other cover within about a 40 acre section of slough that normally holds great late season hunting. Picked up a bird here, then another there, with no real rhyme or reason. We had 3 in the bag at this point, and had struck out on the heaviest cover we could find, damn cattails. 
We had hunted hard for about 6 hours and had just stated to head back towards the homestead because we were shot, and the dogs were starting to look BEAT UP. The thick snow crust is hard on feet and bellies of those poor dogs.
We were working a small treeline when up flushed a rooster on my side. After 2 warning shots 
he hit the ground with my dog Rock on his tail. I was worried about him running since he was not hit real hard and was high tailing it towards him, when I see the wonder mutt picking him up. I felt a little better knowing at least ofter 6 hours of abuse, we at least had 4 in the bag.
Got back to the treeline and I hear the hen call from Kent. This scared one old Rooster who could not contain himself any longer. I stretched my normal range, but turned him on the first shot, and dumped him on the next. The dogs had not seem him get up or fall which I think is a tough retreive in a foot and a half of snow, but by the time I got to where he dropped, Rock was again digging him out of a snow bank.
It was a good day to be in the field, burned off some of those Christmas calories, and got a few birds to boot. My fever for pheasant hunting will only get scratched for about a half day on Sunday before another family Christmas cuts my season short. For those of you crazy enough to want to hunt this new MN late season, you will bust your butt, but when you find birds, you find alot of them. I stopped counting at 35 hens and there was a lot more.
Sorry, no pictures, but by the time we got back to the truck, we loaded up and got out of there. We were a couple of tired boys, and the dogs had all they could do to get loaded up and lay down to sleep. 
