In the southernmost ranges of Arizona and New Mexico there are islands in the sky — small, isolated mountain chains rising eight to nine thousand feet from the desert floor that shift through seven different ecosystems, beginning with desert scrub and culminating in alpine fir forests. Halfway up the mountain slopes, among the live oaks, alligator junipers, and red-barked manzanitas, live the mystical Mearns quail.
Conservation icon Aldo Leopold once wrote of the region: "To my mind these live oak-dotted hills fat with side oats grama, these pine-clad mesas spangled with flowers, these lazy trout streams burbling along under great sycamores and cottonwoods, come near to being the cream of creation."
Of all the ecological niches in this desert archipelago, it seems the Mearns have picked the finest.
Beneath the shade of ancient trees, the harlequin-faced birds scratch for wood sorrel and nutsedge. Hidden pools linger in shaded canyons long after the sun dries the uplands. And when the summer monsoons arrive, the hills explode with insects and green growth — just in time for early autumn broods. It's a verdant place that calls to bird and hunter alike.
Not only do Mearns quail inhabit uniquely gorgeous country, but they're also remarkably faithful to it.
The covey you find in a specific draw one day is quite likely to be there tomorrow, too. That constancy can be a boon to hunters — but also a liability to the birds. It's a trait that many hunters use for success. But it's also a trait that can lead to overharvest.
Fortunately, most Mearns hunters are conservation-minded. Few talk about limits — because few ever try to reach them. Even in good years, experienced hunters take just one or two birds per covey and rarely revisit the same group twice in a season. Success, after all, is measured more in moments than meat. When the stars align and the quail gods smile, a handful of these precious birds feels like a gift.
Last winter, my friend Darin came down from Minnesota for his first Mearns hunt. I'd scouted a few coveys ahead of time and brought him to two accessible canyons on our first morning. But fresh boot prints told the story — others had beaten us to the birds. After three fruitless miles, I could tell Darin was questioning my credentials as a guide.
So I led him to the steepest, rockiest draw I knew — one I was pretty sure no one else had tackled.
Halfway down the rocky ravine my setter Ruby froze 25 yards ahead of us but looking back over her shoulder towards Darin. "Ready?" I asked. Before he could reply, a dozen Mearns nearly took his hat off. He understandably missed the first shot, but he knocked down a beautiful male with the second barrel. Examining the handsome bird, Darin smiled and said, "I could get used to this."
"Missing or Mearns hunting?" I kidded.
We found two more coveys, and he bagged two more birds that morning. As we rested in the shade of a massive sycamore, I glanced at the still-beaming Darin and said, "We have another convert." With Mearns quail, once is rarely enough.
The bulk of America's Mearns country is contained within Coronado and Gila national forests, so finding public land to hunt isn't a problem. The problem is finding those few places where Mearns quail are thriving, and, as with my friend Darin's hunt, where other people haven't yet looked. The easy coveys are heavily pressured all season long, but in steep, remote canyons, birds sometimes live out the season undisturbed.
Year to year, bird numbers rise and fall with the monsoon rains. Mearns — officially Montezuma quail — nest later than Gambel's and scaled quail. Their broods rely on July and August rains to spark insect life and new growth. Without that water, the birds don't flourish.
Currently, most of the region, Sky Islands included, remains gripped by long-term drought. Concurrently, the number of hunters pursuing this bucket-list species is rising — hunters come from around the country to chase these compelling little birds. I don't blame them. I'm one of them.
Equipment for Mearns hunting isn't complicated: a gun you shoot well, the right shot size (they sit tight, so 7 1/2s or 8s will do), and boots with solid ankle support and deeply lugged soles. Mearns country is steep in many places and rocky everywhere.
The understory is generally easy to navigate because it consists mainly of grasses. That's key to finding the quail. They need more grass cover than other desert quail species. But beneath each clump of sacaton or gramma might lurk an ankle twisting boulder. Dogs can benefit from footwear, too, since Mearns country is tough on pads. About half the hunters I see each winter boot their dogs, especially hunters coming from less rocky regions of the country.
While Mearns habitat isn't as thorny as the desert below, hunters and dogs will still regularly deal with prickly things. Hunters can usually side-step trouble, but dogs are a different story. They can't avoid all the nasties out there, so a protective vest can help. I always carry a basic first-aid kit with forceps for thorn removal and eyewash for grass seeds.
Breed-wise, most Mearns hunters favor pointing breeds. I run an English setter now, but my first Mearns covey came off the nose of a yellow Lab named Rosie who'd never seen a desert quail in her preceding 12 years. She had no trouble locating and flushing them in range.
Regardless of breed, much of the time your dogs will be out of sight due to the topography, so I always use GPS collars. I also run a bell, both for the instant feedback it provides and for another safety reason I'll mention later.
As with any desert hunting, water is a constant necessity. Even though high temperatures might only reach 60 degrees during the December to early February season, the sun at this latitude always packs a punch, with humidity in the single digits. I carry 3 quarts for the dogs and myself whenever I leave the truck — 4 if it looks to be a warm morning. I often wish I had more.
Wildlife encounters in Mearns country are common. You're likely to see Coues deer since the little whitetails prefer the same habitat as the quail. But you might also run into other, more problematic fauna. Rattlesnakes are a continual worry, but during Mearns season the nighttime temperatures often hover around freezing which keeps the snakes inactive … usually. As a precaution I rarely hunt during the heat of the day, and I take my dogs through snake-aversion training.
Javelina don't look like a threat, but they are. They instinctively dislike canines due to constant harassment from coyotes. They run in packs. And they can do real damage to a hunting dog with their tusks. Horror stories abound. I come across them regularly and I think the dog's bell helps to alert them that we are in the area.
You're unlikely to encounter the region's bigger predators like bears, cougars, and yes, even the occasional ocelot or jaguar, but I've had coyotes follow the dogs several times. And I once stepped right over a bobcat in a ravine — an unpleasant surprise for both of us. A more recent concern for me is that rabies has recently spiked in the region. Foxes, bobcats, coatimundis, skunks, and more can carry the dreaded disease. Make sure your dog's vaccinations are up to date.
Another often-overlooked point: When you hunt Mearns quail, you're hunting the U.S.-Mexico borderlands. The risks of hazardous human encounters are small, but they exist. Many remote roads have signage to remind travelers that this is "smuggling country." The Border Patrol is visible and diligent, but it pays to be aware of your surroundings. And the roads in these mountains can be roads in name only. They vary from graded gravel to nearly impassable jeep trails. Good tires are especially mportant on the boulder-strewn two-tracks. Carry an emergency kit — nights are damn cold in these hills.
And regarding vehicles, here's a term I've grown to both love and hate down here: "desert pinstriping." I love it for its pithy humor and hate it for its truth. The vegetation here will tear your shiny paint job into a labyrinth of longitudinal scratches. Most buff out, but some become perpetual reminders of the fun you've had chasing Mearns quail in the Sky Islands.