I like huns. Like, a lot. And bacon.
While the past fall hunting season has faded, and next fall is buried behind many pages of the calendar, I still like the opportunity to go out and find birds. My new strong interest is seeking huns, alias Hungarian partridges or gray partridges in some bird ID books.
Now, for the disclaimer or great news, huns are tasty. Very tasty. They could rank at the top of my food chain, har har!
I also like hunting them since these small birds like low brush, weeds and mostly flat areas. Climbing mountains to hunt birds can wear on you. The flatter land conditions give me the chance to wander about, sniff the wind and brush, and put my keen sense of smell to work. The bad news is that often when I raise my leg — sometimes a rear one, har har! — to go on point, my movement seems to also make the huns move. They explode into the air. Where’s Mike?
Most of the time my backup — alias Mike with his shotgun — is far behind and trying to catch up, or he’s wandering, or he has no clue, or he’s doing something other than hunting. If he does take a shot, the huns are very fast and he is oh so slow. He also needs to keep up if he wants to shoot more huns. I’ve done my part.
Well, the great news is we have some huns located and Mike takes me to those locations on occasion to sniff around, which is also fun because I happen to really like their aroma.
When Mike does grill huns, he often wraps the breasts in bacon. Better than the scent of huns, I love the aroma of frying bacon, especially bacon that is frying to a crisp golden brown. If there’s ever a bacon hunting season, I’m striking out on my own and setting up a bacon camp, har har! —Cameron