The solitary old bull eyed us malevolently, lumbering slowly away as we gave him a wide berth in the little valley, dogs at heel. Dry, dusty, hot, and sweaty—us, not the bull—we moved with trepidation, but the scraggly alfalfa stalks spoke of grasshoppers feeding … and sharptailed grouse feeding on the grasshoppers. Hopping across a trickle of a stream, I marveled at a lonely cutthroat trout finning in a tiny pool until the clacking rise of a sharptail brought me back to the real world. Al’s old side-by-side thundered, and the bird bounced on the hard ground, then lay still until scooped up by his old Labrador.

That’s pretty much the story of Montana … vast open country of grass, sage, coulees, and the occasional adrenaline rush of a bird launching from it. Work for ya?

Montana makes a fine headquarters for an early-season prairie bird hunting adventure. The Big Sky state has millions of acres of public land and walk-in options for adventurous upland hunters and bird dogs.

Montana’s Unique Block Management System

That patch of ground was accessed via Montana’s Block Management program, a well-managed walk-in system unlike any other. Big Sky country farmers and ranchers are compensated only when hunters utilize their land, and favorable habitat is visited more frequently than overgrazed, monoculture moonscapes. Here’s another example:

A faint green strip of shriveled alfalfa lay at the foot of a miles-long grassy bench. Running parallel was a hedge of spindly shrubs, remnants of … what? An old homestead, failed shelterbelt? We stalked both sides, each tentative step anticipating a thundering covey flush. Sweating, stalking, whispering, and nothing until the end of the line when my pup tip-toed into his first point. Two dozen grouse launched; Al bore down, and I sprinted to an opening. My 28 gauge snapped, Al’s century-old 12 gauge rumbled. Both guns lived their destiny and we bagged a bird each, mine (sort of) retrieved by a 23-week-old wirehair.

A Field Guide to Block Management

Get details at Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks’ website, request maps (published in late summer, digitally and in hard copy booklets by region). Start your planning early, browse the BMAs, and make reservations if required. While e-scouting, plan a route so you can punt and head for another nearby area on a slow day. You’ll sign in at each spot—that’s how the landowner gets paid by the state. Make sure to include nearby state and federal ground in your itinerary.

Your best chance at pulling the trigger comes when your destination has a mix of grass, hills, coulees, and creeks. A few trees and sporadic shrub patches add upside potential to your quest for wingshooting Nirvana. The primary publicly-accessible bird will be sharptails, but on any given day you could find Huns, sage grouse, and the rare ringneck.

Finding Upland Birds to Hunt

If Huns are on your bucket list, find flatter, greener ground. The perky little birds will seldom be found in tall grass, often muttering and scratching closer to water than other species. Once flown, they’ll sit tight again, so follow up each flush. Sage grouse like bare ground, sagebrush (doh!), and more verticality—draws, canyons, even cracks in the ground you can jump across.

For sharpies, sweeping vistas with knobs and humps in the landscape are classic territory. If there’s a bush or thicket, don’t ignore it. Plan a stealthy approach using cover and terrain to block their view. After you’ve missed, reload quickly because another one may rise in the aftermath.

Go early in the season for your best chance at sharptails—once family groups join up, they’re nigh impossible to approach. The season starts in September, so go early in the day and quit before your dog seeks shade. Water holes may hold blue-green algae (fatal to dogs), there’s cactus, rattlesnakes, porcupines as big as bear cubs, and bears too. If you go anyway, be safe, buy local, tip well, and leave a few birds for me.