3. Deep in a Nevada range we slogged our way across a bleak, featureless snowfield toward the next draw. That small fold in the landscape offered protection from the howling wind, some bare ground, and we hoped, some chukars. Before we could get 25 yards into the football-field-sized expanse, a covey ran across what would have been the 50-yard line, well ahead of our dogs and our guns. We found others in similar locations, hunkered on a foot of snow they couldn't possibly scratch through for feed.