The Plumed Speedsters — Pacific Coast Range Mountain Quail

It happens with a crack of a stick while walking in on a distant point; a covey explodes both left and right into the thicker stands of young Douglas firs.

- Glenn Zinkus

I touch off a shot down a darkened corridor between the trees, unsure whether a quail drops. But the telltale feathers lingering in the still forest air give hope of a bird in hand and a bird for Parker to retrieve.

Something learned along the way of my own journey into mountain quail hunting addiction is that mountain quail can happen anytime. Any upland hunter venturing into mountain quail territory will frequently be surprised by wild covey flushes the first time they erupt from the side of some ridge in the Coast Range. Mountain quail won’t hold well for a dog until the covey is broken up, and then the singles hold for stylish points. Take just only a few so the covey doesn’t take a huge hit.

Some years ago I relocated from New England, serendipitously settling in Corvallis, Oregon, all within a 30-minute drive of wild quail hunting opportunities. Although the pheasants that once abounded even within our city limits have disappeared, the mountain quail are a constant. Sure, like other game birds, populations are cyclical, and a harsh winter or unusually wet spring can affect mountain quail numbers. However, mountain quail can be reliably found in habitat that — unlike the haunts of the ubiquitous California quail — is usually far from development.