The Mearns Way

More than a Limit

By Larry Voyles, Member of PF & QF's National Board of Directors

At 5,600 feet in elevation, their breath came hard and fast. Climbing 800 feet had opened a panorama of Arizona's incomparable Madrean oak woodlands and grasslands. The air was crisp and cold, and the golden light of sunrise was giving way to full daylight as a young pointer pup locked up on point with unmistakable intensity. Even the first time Mearns hunters knew the game was on.

Their hard work and financial investment in the trip were about to be rewarded by the explosive rise of a dozen Mearns quail. The hunters had heard the stories, but nothing compared to the experience as pandemonium unfolded. One bird fell to the gun on the first rise as the covey dispersed into a dense stand of grama grass. What followed was a rare display of canine perfection: The young pup systematically sought out, located, and pointed each bird in the covey, a feat almost unheard of in Mearns hunting.

By the time the hunters reached the crest of the steep arroyo, each carried a handsome male Mearns in their gamebag. More important, they had witnessed impeccable dog work while adhering to their agreed-upon decision to limit their harvest to no more than two or three birds from any covey. They understood that Mearns tight home ranges make the birds especially vulnerable to shared GPS locations. By allowing unharvested birds to flush and escape, they did their part to ensure the covey's health and future opportunity.

At 4 p.m., after traversing 11 miles of rugged terrain and putting up two more coveys, the hunters again honored their decision to call it a day. Evening humidity was beginning to rise, and the pup's olfactory acuity was nearing its peak. They had also learned the importance of allowing time for coveys to regroup before nightfall.

It was a magnificent experience — taking such a special species while honoring the hunter-conservationist credo of fair chase and stewardship.

This timeless scene plays out year after year in the Mearns woods, not because of government regulation, but because of the deep-seated convictions embedded in the heart of every hunter-conservationist.