Arriving in Fedora: A Winter Hunting Retreat

Fourteen women from across the country gathered for a wild pheasant hunt in South Dakota on what happened to be the season’s coldest days to date with feel-like temperature dropping below zero. Stir in a snowstorm with wind gusts of 28 mph, a bevy of bird-crazy dogs and Beretta shotguns all around, and you have the perfect recipe for a hunt to remember.

Driving into in-the-middle-of-nowhere Fedora, South Dakota, the roads turned from snow-plowed blacktop to snow-covered gravel. Heated seats in the rental car were a godsend against the cold outside.

Warmth and Luxury at Suncatcher Acres Lodge

The rustic-style lodge at Suncatcher Acres was chock full of luxuries, including a hot tub (because why wouldn’t you want to sit in a hot tub while it’s snowing?). Beautiful mounts of buffalo and elk, turkeys and pheasants and more covered the walls, displaying the harvests of owners Nick and Christina. A full kitchen would soon be the place where we would enjoy the hospitality of Niki, our Sisterhood of the Outdoors coordinator, as well as each other’s company. A stone fireplace was continually stoked to keep the place toasty warm.

Bonding Over Shared Passions

A blanket of white snow draped the scenery outside, and a full moon hung overhead as we enjoyed our first evening getting to know one another. We hailed from the Midwest, the Deep South and everywhere in between. We held jobs in hospitals, marketing and forest firefighting. We were moms, wives, some married, some divorced, some retired. In some respects, we had little in common, but in others we were like kin. The outdoors was the breath that filled our souls; the love of hunting the iron in our blood. We were there for the pheasants, but we were also there for the memories to be made and the fellowship this sport cultivates.

The Pheasant Hunting Experience

Pheasant hunting offers the opportunity to experience the intellect and enthusiasm of man’s best friend. SD-Hunt provided us with six highly trained and exuberant bird dogs ranging from Labrador Retrievers, Wirehaired Pointing Griffons to a Deutsch Drahthaar. As if to mock nature’s harsh elements, the dogs wallowed in the snow in their pre-hunt excitement. But giddy pups quickly transformed into tracking machines as soon as their handlers gave the word to start. The dogs’ absolute disregard for the freezing terrain spurred us onward. They were thrilled to be on the scent and we for the pursuit of their wagging tails. We followed them over snow through fields of corn and bramble, always waiting for their alert, for the classic point and the thrilling flush.

Meet the Bird Dogs: Partners in the Field

The dogs darted in and out, searching for roosters. Those long-tailed, ring-neck birds that were introduced to the region in the early 1900s for sport have firmly established themselves as a thriving, wild population. Locally known as ditch chickens, pheasants can startle even the most prepared hunter when they flush from their hiding places in a flash of red-feathered bodies and brilliant emerald heads with the whitest of necks. Fast enough on their own wing, they are even more difficult to shoot with the gusting wind of a snowstorm on their side. Wily and fast, these birds had been shot at all season long and were wise to the ways of dog and hunter.

Chasing Roosters: Skills, Strategies, and Surprises

We were well armed with semi-automatic shotguns by Beretta, the event sponsor, and the counsel of our guides. Marching into the fields, we recited to ourselves the pattern: tail, body, beak. The trick was the swing through to gain the bird and then the lead for a hit. Or as Nick said repeatedly: “Shoot ‘em in the face!”

The pointing dogs froze when a bird was spotted. The labs flushed them up. The birds flew. The guides hollered “hen!” to hold fire or “rooster!” to signal onslaught. We were lined up, ten to fifteen feet apart, with our own designated shooting lanes. The rooster would fly, shots would ring as the bird’s flight crossed each hunter’s path. When a bird dropped out of the sky, the whole group cheered. It was a collective effort. Whose shot was the winner? We might not always know, but neither did we care. We were there together — us and the dogs against the pheasants. And no matter what, we were winning. Maybe not always in terms of bagged birds, but in the experience, camaraderie, and the enjoyment of the hunt. It was all adding up, and we were the richer for it.

Building Friendships and Cherished Memories

For some of the women, it was their first time in South Dakota. For others, it was their first time hunting wild pheasants. And for some, it was their first hunt ever. But for all of us, it was a hunt to cherish. From 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., the legal hunting hours, we were, like our four-legged companions, consumed with thoughts of pheasants. All other hours were filled to the brim with hearty soups that helped to thaw us out, tasty pheasant poppers that delighted our palates and plenty of other treats from a well-stocked pantry. We ate, we laughed, we built friendships and made promises to share another hunt again. We arrived as strangers and parted as friends. It was a hunt that earned a feather in our cap – a long pheasant feather.

Luggage coolers were filled with frozen meat and birds to mount so that we might proudly share with our friends and family a small portion of the experience. Hugs were exchanged, and we parted ways, flying off in different directions. We returned home with a bit of South Dakota forever etched in our hearts.