Santa Fe Trail Quail

On the path to great quail hunting in Colorado

[img 1 center caption=The Witcher Ranch, Colorado]
In the mid-1800s the branch of the Santa Fe Trail knifing down from Kansas to New Mexico became known by some as the Jornada del Muerte: "Journey of Death." It was a shortcut, no doubt, slicing across extreme Southeast Colorado and shaving almost 100 miles and 10 days off of the normally 21/2-month-long trek, but it was also perilous-the price for passage often paid in blood to hostile tribes like the Comanches and Kiowas in the vast, waterless stretches of desert-like terrain.

A saving grace in the otherwise desolate land was the Cimarron River, its waters slaking the thirsts of exhausted travelers parched and close to death. In fact, it was the Cimarron that in the spring of 1822 saved Santa Fe Trail blazer Capt. William Becknell and members of his exploratory party. Half-crazed from lack of water, the group was given hope when it stumbled across a herd of buffalo and recognized that the animals don't travel far from water. It was a short walk from there to salvation.

These days Becknell would need a dowsing rod to find water in the Cimarron, as the section that cuts the corner of Colorado is mostly a "dry river"- running beneath the sandy riverbed. Still there are pockets of open water, and the river is close enough to the surface to encourage trees and grasses to put down roots. The result is a thick wooded habitat that snakes its way through miles of wide-open, arid prairie.

Eight miles of the river meander through a sprawling 13,000-acre tract in Campo, Colorado, known as the Witcher Ranch. This working cattle ranch is named for the family that owns it, and it is hard up against the Oklahoma border on one side and less than 10 miles from Kansas on the other.

Brothers Grant and Eric Witcher are the ranch's second-generation proprietors, and they have carried on their father's wish of running a hunting operation there. Their father, Dan, got into the business years ago when an outfitter offered to pay him to chase the ranch's big whitetails. ("Twelve thousand dollars! Did I hear him right?") After several years of leasing out the deer hunting, the Witchers decided to bring the operation in-house-eventually expanding the offerings to include wild hogs, turkeys and even buffalo (from a small herd that roams the property).
[img 2 right caption=Hunters will hardly be "roughing it" at the Witcher Ranch]
And birds. There always had been a good population of wild bobwhites in the ranch's bottomlands, and the open spaces to each side held blue quail and mourning doves. The microhabitat of the Cimarron, meandering like the Gulf Stream through a prairie sea, also was a natural location for releasing and holding quail. The bottom offered plenty of food and cover, and the birds would be reluctant to leave the protection of the tall grass to wander out into the sparse vegetation of the prairie.

For helping manage and propagate the birds, the river lent itself to establishing food plots, the subterraneous aquifer providing a ready water source. So the ranchers embarked on an ambitious plan to plow and seed more than a dozen fields with millet, sorghum, wheat and a variety of other forbs and legumes. About 50 guzzlers were built in the river bottom and out on the prairie to collect natural moisture for the quail.

To supplement the population of wild bobwhites, a large release of nine-week-old chicks took place in early July 2005. These birds grew quickly and adapted to the surroundings, and by the time hunting started, in mid-October, they were as hardy-and spooky-as their wild brethren.

At the same time the Witcher brothers had begun construction of a 3,000-square-foot lodge to house hunters. Sadly, their father had passed away in the fall of 2004, but one of his last wishes had been that his sons build four cabins (one to be named for each of his grandchildren) on the ranch's two ponds. Of course Grant and Eric had wanted to heed these wishes, but when they'd consulted with deer hunting clients about accommodations, they'd learned that, instead of separate cabins, the hunters preferred a central gathering place for socializing. Thus, the brothers had opted to go with the lodge-with rooms named for the grandchildren.

With the lodge finished and habitat management complete (at least for that year), the business became known as Santa Fe Trail Hunts (for the portion of the Trail that traces the Cimarron through the property), and bird hunting debuted in the fall of '05. Some of the first wingshooters to partake were members of the Vintagers (Order of Edwardian Gunners), who came away with stories of great numbers of hard-flying quail-both bobs and blues. The shooting was so good, in fact, that Vintager President Ray Poudrier returned later that same season for a second go.

Another visitor was SSM Associate Publisher Terry Bombeke, who had been corresponding with the Witchers throughout the lodge's development and was curious to see the results. Terry, together with his wife, Michelle, had a similar experience to Ray's (see Going Places, May/June '06), finding "a seemingly endless supply of quail." Describing his first day's hunt, Terry wrote: "All told we found 16 coveys, and it was the kind of outing I enjoy most-where the walking is relatively easy and the shooting relatively hard."
[img 4 left caption=Quail on the wing]
The Witchers had struck on the right recipe for quality quail hunting and were enjoying the fruits of their considerable efforts.

With the lure of SFT Hunts already strong, I tracked down Grant and Eric at last year's SCI Convention. The brothers regaled me with stories of stellar dogwork and challenging birds and the pampering that comes with a first-class lodge and staff. The tipping point, however, was when they got on the subject of my second love-big-game hunting-and began thumbing through pictures of whitetails that had been taken on the ranch. They mentioned that trophy mule deer roamed the prairie as well but that clients had never wanted to get out and chase them . . . .

You don't need to tell me twice.

So this past December, with a deer tag in my pocket and a shotgun and rifle in my gun case, I headed to Colorado for bobs, blues and hopefully a nice buck. It was a hunt combining the best of both worlds in a setting that fairly oozed adventure.

I arrived in camp to meet Bob Krish and Ben Miraglia, two retired police officers from New York. Both were there to enjoy the same mixed bag that I was, and additionally to shoot a buffalo for the full Old West experience. In fact, Bob had ended his deer hunt the day I flew in, taking a very respectable whitetail from a river-bottom treestand.

For the next four days I wandered the prairie with J.W. Finn, a young, energetic guide who the Witchers had dubbed "The Deer Whisperer." We saw plenty of game and had several shot opportunities-including one for a huge whitetail that we jumped near the river-and I did manage to reduce the wild-hog population by dropping a large sow. We also flushed plenty of quail-both bobwhites and blues-and I often found myself wishing I was carrying my shotgun.
[img 5 right caption=Hunters head out on hourseback to cover the 13,000 acre ranch]
Finally on the fifth morning we caught up to a beautiful mule deer buck that we'd spied the first evening across the state line in Oklahoma. This day he'd made the mistake of bedding with several other bucks and does in Colorado, and we were able to stalk within 75 yards and take him. I was one proud and satisfied hunter driving back to the lodge-a feeling made all the sweeter knowing I now had several days of quail hunting ahead.

In the afternoon we met head bird guide Monte Monroe, a tall, affable gent who was raised in Southeast Colorado and knows the quail game well. The fact that he has a kennel full of pointers, setters and Labs shows he's pretty serious about it too.

Monte started us on the prairie just up the road from the lodge, as he'd jumped a covey of blue quail there on the drive in. Pointers Tex and Roy coursed out front as we began walking the relatively flat grassland, sidestepping sagebrush and the odd yucca. When Tex snapped on point 50 yards ahead of me, I high-stepped toward and past him. A small, grayish bird buzzed out of the cover and cut back to the side, and I tumbled it into the grass. Hustling to the spot and picking up the bird before the dogs could find it, I soon was admiring my first-ever blue, or scaled, quail.

We flushed several more birds from the scattered covey before climbing back in the truck and heading for the river bottom. There we again set out behind Tex and Roy as they worked the much-thicker grass, tamaracks and cottonwoods around the foodplots. As we walked, Monte explained that a relatively dry growing season that year had hurt quail numbers (little spring moisture means little green growth means fewer bugs means less food for young quail), so although the Witchers had put out the same number of young birds as the previous season, fewer had survived-and those hadn't been supplemented by a lot of reproduction by wild quail.

During the next hour we did find two healthy coveys of a dozen-plus birds each, and following up singles provided excellent shooting. From there we moved back to the prairie and had a go at some blues that flushed near a windmill as we were driving past. These birds confirmed their reputations as runners, leading the dogs on a merry chase until it was too dark to shoot. It was amazing to follow the blues' tracks in the sand and see their lengthy strides as they weaved among the sage and native grasses.

The following day we headed out with SFT Hunts' other main bird guide, Andy Pinkley. Andy had moved to the area from Missouri several years prior, and he owns a string of experienced field-trial dogs. It took only the first cast to see that these pointers knew how to cover ground, and we were thankful for the Tracker radio collars they were wearing. The other nice thing was that the dogs knew how to handle quail, and I remember one impressive sequence in which pointers Slim and Nash tracked a covey of bobwhites for a half-mile across a relatively open flat, sticking and then relocating at least a half-dozen times, before finally pinning the birds at the crest of a small sandhill. When Bob and Ben finally walked in, almost two dozen birds blew out of the grass and scattered to the winds . . . untouched.
[img 3 left caption=Stalking quail with a best friend]
The final afternoon we took advantage of a new offering at the Witcher Ranch: horseback hunting. Saddling up several Tennessee Walkers, we plodded out to the river bottom, with lodge manager Emma Sneed and her husband, Scott, following in an E-Z-Go cart laden with shells and dog crates. Once in thicker cover, Andy let loose the dogs. It was impressive watching the pointers work from our elevated seats and easy to understand the advantage of using horses for trialing. When the dogs would go on point, we would ride up, dismount, hand the reins to Emma or Scott, retrieve our guns and walk in. The system worked perfectly on the half-dozen coveys of bobs we found sprinkled throughout the river bottom.

That evening over a game of pool I had a chance to visit with Grant and Eric Witcher about SFT Hunts. I told them how much I had enjoyed my week and how I had found both the hunting and accommodations first rate. The brothers were openly discouraged that bird numbers were down from the previous year, but they were positive about moving forward and establishing more food plots, building more guzzlers and continuing to improve habitat for not only quail but also deer and other game. They also revealed a plan to purchase 10 Surrogator units, in which day-old quail chicks are placed and eventually set free after they have imprinted to the particular location. Birds so liberated tend to live and reproduce where they were raised.

It was just one more example of the brothers' dedication and commitment to making their hunting operation fly. And with innovative thinking like that, there's no doubt that Santa Fe Trail Hunts is on the path to success.

Author's Note: For more information on quail hunting in Southeast Colorado, contact Santa Fe Trail Hunts, 785-539-2295; www.santafetrailhunts.com.Ralph P. Stuart is Shooting Sportsman's Editor in Chief.

Do you like what you read? Subscribe to Shooting Sportsman»