Heading into an upland hunt in Iowa, I was paying close attention to the weather. I was mostly concerned with the temperatures, the ones that dip below 45 degrees. Come to find out, my concerns were misplaced.

Iowa’s Heritage 1865 Hunting Lodge and Outfitters has 3,200 acres of gorgeous upland hunting awaiting sportsmen and women. Photo: P. Erhardt

The Weather

Rain. It was the rain I needed to be worried about, and that was painfully obvious every time I checked the weather app on my phone. I was heading into a non-stop rain fest starting before I eve landed on Saturday.

The forecast for Sunday wasn’t any better.

By the time we got up Sunday morning it was clear that hunting that day was in doubt. It had rained all night long with the kind of rain that puts you to sleep, but then later wakes you up in a panic wondering if you need to be building an ark.

The fields, and the birds, were going to be completely waterlogged, so by mid-morning the call was made that day one of the hunt was officially washed out.

Mother Nature remains undefeated.

The Lodge

The only upside to the ‘no hunting’ news was the fact that it was Sunday, which means football, and the Heritage 1865 lodge is far from the worst place to relax and watch football. Even better, they had the NFL Red Zone so we could watch the critical plays from all the games about when they happened.

And, they had a fireplace that we took full advantage of. In Arizona a fireplace usually means an ornamental gas fireplace for those cold days when the thermostat falls below 60. Fall is a time for crisp cool air, leaves that turn color, football and a real roaring fire.

A warm fire, comfy chairs and Red Zone on the big screen TV. Non-hunting life doesn’t get much better than this. Photo: P. Erhardt

Like I said, if you’re spending the day not hunting this is almost the perfect way to spend it.

The fireplace wasn’t the only thing the spacious lodge had to offer. Each of us had our own room, equipped with bunk beds for added capacity. There was a pool table. A bar, and while I don’t drink I can certainly see how this might be a necessity.

The back patio was home to maybe a half cord of wood from which we each took turns feeding the fire. A smoker and grill stood ready for drier days. A shame they couldn’t have been put to the test.

Beyond the patio and out the back windows of the lodge was a pond, which made for a great view, even more so if it hadn’t been so overcast and gray.

The Chef

Heritage 1865 isn’t the stuffy old hunting lodge you and your buddies share once a year during deer season after you open it and clear out all the cobwebs. No, these are more gentlemanly – if I can use that term – accommodations. The kind that comes with its own chef.

Chef Steve made it known right away that he’d be taking care of our breakfast, lunch and dinner needs.

Have you ever had inch-thick pork chops that quite literally melted in your mouth? We did, thanks to Chef Steve. And to think, all this time mom had me convinced pork chops had to be hockey puck hard to eat. Photo: P. Erhardt

I don’t know about you but I could really get used to living a life where a chef takes care of all my meals. Plus, Chef Steve was fun to talk to. That is when you could work your way through his thick Scottish accent.

If I could steal anything from him it would have been his baked beans. When he told us he’d be making baked beans to go with one of our meals, and that those baked beans were mostly bacon, we knew we were in the right place.

Damn, those baked beans were good.

Hunting

Come Monday morning it was time to give it a go and head out to the fields to scare up some pheasants.

The rain had held off Sunday night, and through the morning, giving us hope that the birds would be flying.

Our guide, Cody Kilhullen, was out in the fields early scouting the terrain so we would be heading into one of the less soaked areas where we wouldn’t be wading through a lot of standing water.

Heritage 1865 offers 3,200 acres of prime upland hunting, divided into nine sections, giving us options after a soggy Sunday. And Cody chose well.

Watching hunting dogs work never seems to get old. Heritage 1865 has dogs but you can always bring your own. Photo: P. Erhardt

Is there a better feeling than driving out to your hunting field, letting the dogs loose to hunt up some birds? No, there isn’t. Though, I’m pretty sure the same is true for a waterfowl hunter and his or her lab. It’s electric.

Even though the fields were certainly damp, we spotted a few roosters, one of which took to the air almost immediately, even before we started hunting. We took it as a good sign.

That first morning had us walking up and down rows cut into the fields. The five of us were spread out, each with our shooting lane we were responsible for covering.

The hunting fields are well maintained, and stocked. If Mother Nature hadn’t gotten in our way we would have shot our shoulders sore (note really) chasing pheasant and quail. Photo: P. Erhardt

As we progressed through the morning, flushing, shooting, and retrieving birds, it was clear that, despite the rain, we were in the right place. Of course, as the hours passed the temperatures climbed.

Now, having grown up on the East Coast in the Mid-Atlantic area, I know what humidity is. But, having spent the last several years living in the Phoenix Valley of Arizona, I forgot how uncomfortable humidity can be.

And just like that, I was wishing for the cold weather that I was previously so worried about.

The Gear

Before you say it, I know, ‘have you every heard of layering?’ The answer is yes, but I am out of practice.

Before the morning’s cooler temperatures gave way I was well prepared. The Pyke Gear I was sent included their Dakota Upland Brush Pants, a Kiowa Ultralight Shirt, and a Tongass Nomad Lightweight Jacket. All of which I would describe as technical apparel designed for comfort and easily adjustable for the climate by adding or shedding layers.

The problem I had was I put on a simple base layer shirt that was better suited for actual cold climates. Suddenly my nice morning walk hunting pheasants turned into an overheating trudge through humidity so thick you would swear you could see, taste and touch it.

The dogs were working up a sweat as well. Cody was on top of it though, calling for a well needed break in the action for all of us. Photo: P. Erhardt

If that sounds like and over exaggeration it’s because it is. But in my defense I present you with seven years of living in Arizona’s drought-plagued desert climate.

By the end of the morning my base layer mistake was costing me energy. Somewhere early on I abandoned the used of Hunt Monkey gloves. I was sweating my ass off so much that my waterproof Irish Setter boots felt soaked…from the inside.

I’m just going to state for the record that the Pyke Gear apparel is pretty damn awesome. As are the Irish Setter boots. The problem was they, along with the Marsupial Gear Upland Vest I had on, were like putting lipstick on an out-of-shape, no cardio pig.

Friends, before you go on hunts do yourself a favor and get into some kind of moderate shape. I’ve developed a dove hunter’s mindset to the point I’m barely capable of little more than walking a couple hundred yards and sitting on a stool waiting for birds to come to me.

To be honest, I wasn’t the only one that was a bit overheated as the humidity was getting to most of us.

Monday afternoon’s hunt started strong, though still warm and humid, and we covered a good bit a ground before having to call it a day as a light drizzle picked up and birds felt far less inclined to fly.

Tuesday morning took us out to a new section of the hunting grounds. One with both pheasant and quail. We kicked up a couple quail in one particularly active corner of the field, and downed a few.

The morning of day two we kicked up more than just pheasants with a few of us downing quail. Photo: P. Erhardt

By the late morning, which started out with 53 degree temps coupled with 92% humidity, I found myself missing birds. At one point my glasses were fogging up so badly that I could see the quail, an easy passing shot, but could not put a bead on it to save my life.

That, after missing a pheasant earlier in the morning that flushed no more than 15 feet from me (I still shot at it three times because failure is always an option, apparently), was my cue to call it a day.

Let’s Wrap This Up Already

Here’s what you really need to know. Heritage 1865 is a great place to hunt, and I’m guessing downright phenomenal when Mother Nature isn’t working against you.

Getting good hunting gear is well worth your time and money. But do yourself a favor and spend somebody else’s money and put Pyke Gear, Marsupial Gear, Irish Setter, and Hunt Monkey on your Christmas list for others to purchase for you. Consider that a Pro Tip.

Being prepared for your hunt – i.e. being in shape – is just as important as where you hunt and what gear you hunt with.

Now, if I had it to do all over again would I? You’re absolutely right I would. It was a great trip and a great time. The hospitality at Heritage 1865 was wonderful. The others I hunted with, Drew, Tanner, Douglas, and even Chase, were fantastic hunting companions.

Tell me you’re on a media hunt without telling me you’re on a media hunt. Photo: P. Erhardt

One last item of note…the shotguns. We were hunting with shotguns from Franchi, which hosted this media hunt. They performed perfectly, which was not unexpected at all. Unfortunately, the exact model details aren’t out yet as they remain under embargo. What I can tell you is that after walking all those fields, through all that humidity, nobody seemed to have any complaint whatsoever.

Though, I did miss that pheasant at point-blank range three times, so naturally I have to blame the gun.

– Paul Erhardt, Managing Editor, the Outdoor Wire Digital Network