Good friends often do make the hunt. That was the case along the edge of Kansas' Flint Hills at Ravenwood Lodge last season. 

I'm often happiest hunting alone, nobody else determining the direction, pace, nor "helping" handle Buddy. But after a week on the road, friends are a welcome change from solitary pursuit. This stop on my 2^nd annual Awesome

Buddy shone, when we could find him!

Upland Road Trip was all about that.

The Corbets, big and little Ken, tend some of the best habitat in the Midwest. That, in turn, offers challenging yet satisfying hunting. Buddy cast left and right, first with the wind at his back and doubling into it on each turn. One memorable buttonhook pattern yielded a quail-ringneck double that little Ken and I shared.

Even Buddy's well-honed sense of smell was challenged and after several wild flushes, I asked that we get to the downwind side and do it right. I am glad I did. 

Have you ever argued with your dog about where the birds are? I learned long ago to follow the hunter with the longest nose, and after a fruitless pass through head-high CRP, I let Buddy lead us to the fencerows.

The Tri-Tronics beeper with hawk scream earned its recharge that night. We never saw Buddy slam into a point all day. But we heard him, and followed our ears into bobwhite after bobwhite. True to form, Buddy never griped about the tough conditions.

Maybe you've experienced that day in the field when your dog is at his best, even if your shooting isn't. And you had witnesses who appreciate it. That was today, and it reminds me that hunting dogs are simply four-footed miracles.

Take a moment, and remember the last time it happened to you ...