Click here to see a gallery of historical photographs from the National Championship for Field Trialing Bird Dogs
Click here to see outtakes from photographer Michael Sugrue's shoot of the 2007 championship
Click here for a brace-by-brace synopsis of the entire 2007 event

Just seven minutes into the cast, Heyu Two Pete locks up tight. The liver-flecked Oklahoma pointer stands staunch at a sumac thicket, paws riveted to the west Tennessee soil. He doesn't move a muscle. Not when a 35-degree wind ruffles his coat. Not when 300 horse-mounted spectators and judges rumble up from behind. Not when the dog's handler, Allen Vincent, dismounts and wades into the brambles, blank pistol in hand, hoping to raise the covey of quail that has turned the dog to stone.

A hundred feet away, Two Pete's owner, Preston Trimble, sits in his saddle and chews on his lip. A lot can happen in the next few seconds.

Suddenly, a coyote leaps from the brush-he'd been hunting birds, too. For a second Two Pete's eyes shift to take in his wild cousin.

Then it's back to the business at hand. Vincent fires the pistol, and half a dozen quail slant into the air. Trimble beams as his pointer streaks off for the next piece of cover. It's precisely the kind of bird work expected of an animal vying for honors as the best field dog in North America.

Every year over a two-week stretch of February, the continent's top pointers and setters gather with their owners, handlers, and a throng of gawkers at the historic Ames Plantation in Grand Junction, Tenn. This is the National Championship for Field Trialing Bird Dogs, the culmination of a months-long circuit of competitions that stretches from California to Saskatchewan to Florida.

All told, there are approximately 2,000 recognized field trial clubs in the country, overseen by groups such as the Amateur Field Trial Clubs of America and the American Kennel Club. But there is only one National. "This is the Super Bowl of field trials," says David Smith, executive director of the Bird Dog Foundation. "Grand Junction in February is where everybody wants to be."

The competition is intense; neither money nor pedigree guarantees a kennel at Ames Plantation. To qualify, a bird dog must post first-place wins in at least two of the 75-odd qualifying events. To requalify for a return to the championship, a former contestant must place first, second, or third in a qualifying event. Dog owners vie for a chunk of a payout worth $16,000, but a win here barely covers food and lodging for a year's worth of field trialing. This title is about prestige, honor, and good ¿¿old-fashioned bragging rights.

During the opening ceremony, the roughly 40 competing dogs are paired in a random drawing of brace mates. Once the contest opens, two of these braces-one each in the morning and in the afternoon-run per day in a three-hour "stake" on a course that unwinds across 111⁄2 miles of broken farm country. Behind the running dogs are mounted trainer-handlers and scouts. Next comes a trio of orange-jacketed judges-again, on horseback-who keep track of the dogs' performances. Following all this action is a gallery of spectators. It's not uncommon for 400 or more horses and riders to follow a pair of quail-crazy dogs across miles of west Tennessee. It's a bit like a moving Kentucky Derby. Except there's a lot more camo.

The animals are judged on the number of birds they find and the style and stamina they display on the hunt. Notes are made on how well the dogs work cover and whether they back (go on point) a brace mate on point. Penalties and sometimes disqualifications are assessed for bumping birds without pointing, pointing at birds that aren't found, breaking point when birds flush, or displaying a "flagging" tail that isn't rigid while on point. It's as much an endurance test as a skills course; contenders are asked to run like greyhounds for up to three hours, over as much as 25 miles of cover.

"It's the greatest sport in the world," says Trimble, a retired district court judge, "and I'll tell you why. It's the only sport I know of where I could be out there trying to kick your butt this morning, and this afternoon, I might be scouting for your dog, trying to help you kick mine. This competition isn't about the owners or trainers. It's all about the dogs."