The Season’s Just Getting Started
Less Pressure + Less Cover = More Opportunity
If I had to pick a time of the season to hunt, it would definitely be late season. I recently wrote a blog post for Travel SD in partnership with Pheasants Forever on why late-season is the best season. The original blog can be found on PF’s website, or you can read it below …
While I love the first month of pheasant season, the true hunter in me longs for the short, colder days of late-season pheasant hunting after Thanksgiving when the birds are bunched up in the thick stuff and fewer hunters are afield.
In fact, part of me believes more people should be aware of the benefits of hunting late-season roosters. Selfishly, the other part of me wants to keep it a secret.
PROCESS OF ELIMINATION
It boils down to a process of elimination. For starters, harvest season in the Dakotas runs concurrently with the first month of pheasant season, and as the corn, sunflowers and beans are all taken out, pheasants have far less cover where they can hide or loaf during daylight hours.
Secondly, as the season wears on the number of hunters declines, which opens up more ground on both private and public land. Simply stated, there is simply less competition from late November through the season’s closing bell when hunters can often head out and have their choice at hunting the best locations.
It’s a simple equation: less pressure + less cover = more opportunity.
SNOW IS YOUR BEST FRIEND
Simply stated, late-season birds have fewer places to hide.
My boss at my day job knows that if it snows during the work week while pheasant season is open, I’m automatically taking PTO the next day. All joking aside, many hunters are turned off by snow, but I’m here to tell you it can be your best friend during late season for a number of reasons.
Primarily, it reduces the amount of suitable cover pheasants have at their disposal even further. Ditches, pasture ground with pockets of marginal cover, immature CRP and other short-grass areas are no longer viable cover options for pheasants because they don’t offer enough protection from the elements or become too drifted over to offer a pheasant a place to hide. Plus, a little bit of snow slows running birds down and can make them hold tight.
TRUE TROPHIES
Late-season birds are different. By now, even young-of-the-year birds have filled out, and leftovers from the previous year are flat-out studs. If you’ve never had a late-season bird flush at your feet, its thunderous wingbeats filling the air, you’re missing out.
These birds are survivalists and have developed an almost supernatural ability to evade hunters — including winged, four-legged and two-legged varieties. They'll run ahead, double back through your walkers, shoot the gap between blockers or hold so tight in thick cover that they'll nearly let you step on them before exploding into flight. They know every escape route in their territory and won't hesitate to use them all. So, when you finally get your hands on one, you've earned a true trophy.
MIX IT UP
Speaking of trophies, take advantage of the fact South Dakota’s other upland seasons now run until Jan. 31 and bag a sharptail grouse, prairie chicken or Hungarian partridge. In the past, prairie grouse and partridge seasons closed Jan. 1, but this year all upland seasons are open through Jan. 31.
That’s a good thing, and it’s important to note it’s not just just another regulation change — it's a game changer for serious upland hunters. By aligning with the pheasant season's end date, it creates perfect opportunities for mixed-bag hunts late in the season.
PERFECT FOR SMALL GROUPS OR SOLO HUNTERS
While it’s true late-season birds are indeed educated birds, I’ve found that they’re ultimately more predictable. As winter conditions grip the landscape, pheasants have to rely on established patterns as a matter of survival. As a result, they are forced by the elements to become creatures of habit, moving between food sources and heavy cover at consistent times of the day. The process is simple: figure out the pattern and meet the birds where they want to be.
What’s even better is this predictable survival behavior makes strategic hunts with a small group of hunters devastatingly effective. I believe a small teams of hunters — like a duet or a trio — stand a much better chance at success in the late season than some of the larger groups that are more common in October and early November. Small teams can be quick and silent, and they can zero in on these smaller areas of cover where concentrated numbers of birds are found. In fact, some of my most successful — and memorable — hunts have been solo endeavors in December and January.
WHEN IT ALL COMES TOGETHER
For example, a few years ago the temperature reading in my Suburban displayed 25 degrees when I left the driveway. An hour later when I pulled into a field approach a quarter-mile from a big CREP area, the temp had dropped into the single digits and the north wind was howling.
“You’re crazy,” I said to myself, but the anxious whines coming from the kennel in back told me we didn’t come all this way for nothing. It was the first week of December, and a fresh blanket of snow tossed about the landscape. There was only an hour left before sunset, and as my old yellow Lab, Gauge, and I walked toward the public area, our tracks on the gravel road quickly drifted over. The CREP area was bordered on two sides by cut corn, and running through the center of the property was slough containing dense clumps of cattails. It was an ideal spot to target late-season birds.
When we dropped into the ditch and swung into the first swath of cattails, Gauge’s pace quickened instantly, his tail helicoptering in a telltale sign he was on birds. I followed him as he followed his nose north into the wind, and five minutes later he bumped three magnum roosters from a clump of cattails, their bright colors almost glowing in stark contrast to the gray horizon.
I only had time for one shot, and Gauge made short work of the retrieve. The warm bird felt good in my hands … and even better when I slid it into my vest. A short while later Gauge flushed another giant rooster that climbed skyward before banking with the wind. I fired a warning shot before connecting on the second.
We worked around the edges, flushing hen after tight-holding hen and watching batches of other birds flush wild 100 yards ahead. We were running out of daylight, and being content with two birds in my vest, I started back toward the road. But Gauge had other ideas. He made a hard 180 and dove headfirst into another wall of cattails.
It wasn’t long before a dozen hens came screaming out of the cover. I couldn’t see the dog, but I could hear him working, which told me there was still a bird or two holding tight. Thirty seconds later, a cackling rooster launched its way south with the jetstream. I wingtipped the bird and watched it sail feet down into the sea of cattails about 50 yards ahead. My heart sank.
“Fetch him up!” I commanded, though if I’m being honest, I didn’t think Gauge had a shot at retrieving the running bird. I should’ve known better, because 15 minutes and 100 yards later, that old dog emerged from the cattail stand with a true trophy of a public land rooster in his mouth. To this day I’m not sure who was more proud, me or the dog.
Gauge with his three late-season, public-land birds from the story above.
NOW’S YOUR CHANCE
As another South Dakota winter settles in and the crowds thin out, I'm reminded why late-season hunts have become my favorite tradition. Sure, the weather can be unpredictable and you'll work harder for your birds — but that's exactly what makes it special. There's an intimacy to winter pheasant hunting that October just can't match.
If you think you’ve missed your chance to hunt South Dakota this year simply because the first month of the season passed you by, think again — the season is just beginning. So while others have hung up their vests for the year, feel confident knowing that some of the season's best hunting still lies ahead.