Smith: December hunts for roosters are a holiday treat

THERESA - At 2:30 p.m. Wednesday the sky was clear and sunlight blazed golden across Theresa Marsh Wildlife Area.

Stands of big bluestem waved on the flanks of the hills in a brisk northwesterly breeze. 

A bald eagle soared to the east, looking for opportunities over the frozen marsh.

Flocks of Canada geese and sandhill cranes traced "V's" across the sky.

From our vantage point in the parking lot at the public property, what we didn't see, though, was any blaze orange on the landscape. 

"This is when you want to be out," said Scott Bensemann, 29, of Theresa.

Never mind a frigid air mass had moved in and some proclaimed us nuts for planning an outing.

I joined Bensemann and Jim Henning, 55, of Grafton on Wednesday for an afternoon hunt for ring-necked pheasants. 

Theresa Marsh is one of 90 Wisconsin public properties stocked with pheasants by the Department of Natural Resources.

Most hunters, though, pursue the birds earlier in the season, which opened Oct. 19.

The late season is for those willing to battle the elements.

Wednesday the mercury read 15 degrees at mid-afternoon. Coupled with the breeze, the conditions definitely motivated us to get and keep moving.

Bensemann let his two Labrador retrievers - Nala and Ember - out of his truck, and they romped in greeting with Tess, Henning's Lab.

We each filled a pocket with shotgun shells, grabbed our guns and set out with the dogs over a section of the 5,860-acre public property.

Golf has been called "a good walk spoiled."

Pheasant hunting is the opposite.

At a minimum, it's a great hike, often accompanied by man's best friends. The exercise and fresh air is reward in itself.

But sometimes there's the extra treat of a cackling explosion of feathers and color.

And if the planets all align, the trip afield results in a fowl meal at home.

With just a couple hours of hunting time, Bensemann, Henning and I planned to cover a few miles of hills, prairies and marshes.

Beyond that, we had no expectations.

Although the ring-necked pheasant isn't native to North America, hunting for the upland bird has long been a Wisconsin tradition.

The pheasant was introduced to Wisconsin as early as the late 1800s, according to the DNR.

With very good habitat, its population flourished through the early 1900s. But wild pheasant numbers declined through the middle 20th century due to loss of habitat, modern agricultural practices and urbanization.

Most contemporary pheasant hunting opportunities on Wisconsin public lands are the result of stocking by the DNR.

For 2019, the DNR planned to stock 90 properties with approximately 75,000 pheasants from the state game farm.

RELATED:Pheasant stocking planned in December on public properties

Pheasant hunters are required to purchase a license and a pheasant stamp. Sixty percent of the funds raised from sales of the $10 stamp is used to support the state game farm and 40% to enhance and restore wildlife habitat. Stamp sales generate about $500,000 each year, according to the DNR.

Depending on production levels, pheasants are released by the DNR once prior to the pheasant hunting season and then twice a week for the first two to three weeks of the season.

After that, birds are released about once a week until the 9-day gun deer season. Most properties are only stocked once or twice more during December. The number of birds released depends on property size and weather conditions, according to the DNR.

So by mid-December it's clear most birds have been stocked and hunted (although it should be noted the DNR has held 2,260 pheasants for late-season plants).

But who knows what you'll find?

"Only one way to find out," Henning said. "Besides, what else would you rather be doing?"

Henning and Bensemann are both die-hard pheasant hunters. To the best of their ability, they arrange their autumn work schedules to allow for as many "stolen afternoons" of hunting on public grounds as possible.

With just a couple hours to hunt, we set out three abreast across grassy natural fields and along tree-lined fencerows and cattail marshes toward a handful of corn and sorghum plots.

"Tess is getting really birdy," Henning announced as we traversed a mixed grass field on the eastern side of a knoll.

Seconds later, a rooster flushed 30 yards ahead and Henning's 12-gauge barked.

Tess made a quick retrieve and we admired the finely-plumaged and long-tailed bird.

With red, green, white, silver among its many colors, the male ring-necked pheasant is surely a bird befitting the holidays.

"Well, there was at least one left," Bensemann said. "It's been more than worth it already."

Minutes later two roosters flushed well ahead of us and sailed hundreds of yards west into a grassy field.

We crested the hill and worked in that general direction. In many places big bluestem grew 5-feet-tall in the restored prairie.

As we neared the northern end of the field, a rooster erupted 5 yards from my feet and flew behind us. Bensemann made good on the shot.

Shortly thereafter another bird flushed, also behind us. This time I wheeled and fired and was soon putting the pheasant in my vest.

We would have all been completely satisfied if the day ended there.

But our public land excursion had more rewards in store for us.

We reversed course and worked the same field but lower, then turned east and climbed the hill.

At its crest we paused and looked east over the expansive marsh.

Now the sun's golden rays highlighted something much farther away: A full moon rose over the horizon and reflected off the ice-covered marsh.

We hiked northeast, then north through a sorghum field.

"Did you hear that?" Bensemann asked.

A cackle reverberated through the vegetation, then another, and another.

We followed the dogs north through the plot and a minute later the sorghum exploded.

Four roosters jumped up. Henning first, then me, then Bensemann each connected with a rooster as the birds flew southwest across our line.

We could hardly believe our good fortune. We each had our two-bird limit on an afternoon hunt in the late season.

"That made my day," Bensemann said.

"That made my year," Henning said.

We stood in the cold air, game bags full, surrounded by wagging dogs, as the full moon climbed over the marsh.

The December full moon is known as the Long Night Moon and Cold Moon. Three hunters now also regard it as the Rooster Moon.

It's always worth it to go for a pheasant hike on public property.

And though you can't predict it, sometimes the celestial bodies align to produce a hunt that you'll talk about the rest of your lives.