Winter Grouse

Well lads, as promised I hit the woods this afternoon. Temp was about 26 deg F, 10-15 mph wind out of the west southwest, and I wore my L.L. Bean air force sweater (the tattered one) under my Browning oil cloth bird coat. Light snow fell throughout the afternoon's hunt.

Kate and I reached the woods by about 3:30 pm. It's a covert you've all been to at one time or another. One of the "old familiars" . . . .

Katie and I started in north along a wood road, then turned west when she caught the wind into the woods. I followed her as she made her way through hawthorn, brambles, and snowed under goldenrod. It was tough slogging for someone who hasn't chased grouse in over a month, with snow up to my knees in places, and before long I had worked up a pretty good sweat following along behind her.

We made our way through one hawthorny patch after another, basically working south into the wind. Pretty soon she turned and worked a good stretch uphill and westward. At the top of the hill, out of breath, I paused, as she continued to nose around under the brambles. Wrrrrrrrr. A grouse flushed from a pine right in front of me. I never saw it, and I called to Kate to follow it up.

We never located that bird, and we continued working south through the covert until we reached a long swale that divides the covert in half. We made our way down along the edge of the swale, across another wood road, and continued down hill into the wind. This is a largish patch that has yielded birds in previous years, and it was now getting close to the grouse bewitching hour, when all grouse who know their business are out stoking theirs furnaces for that long winter's night ahead.

Katie reached a spot where there is a wet low area filled with cattails and alders, and I worked around the edge of it on the high ground. As she worked through the alders, I came around a bend in the deer trail I was on, and wrrrrrr, a grouse got up out of a bush not ten feet from me. But it seemed to be struggling to get up and out of the bush! Damn. I fumbled for the front trigger and managed to get a shot off while the bird was still only about fifteen feet away--and clearly I missed. DAMN. I sat there for what seemed an eternity, fumbling in my gloved fingers for the second trigger. Precious nanoseconds were ticking away, and the bird was completely in range and out in the open the whole time. Finally I had it: BANG, with the second trigger. At the sound of the second shot, a second bird flew left to right across my field of vision and followed the first bird into the hardwoods, as if to add insult to injury. I had missed the second shot as well.

Damn. "That was an awfully nice look at a grouse," thought I. Might not see another one like that for awhile. At the sound of the shots, Katie came over to see what was up, and she froze at the bush where the first grouse had flushed from. I walked in on her point on the outside chance there was another bird in the vicinity, but there wasn't; and then we spent some time following up the two birds in the hardwoods, but to no avail.

Undaunted, we continued on. I made sure to take my right glove off, however, so that if I got another opportunity to shoot, I wouldn't muff it quite so badly.

It was getting close to 4:30, so we turned around and began working our way northward and out of the covert, basically against the wind. It's been my experience that when working against the wind, it takes a bit longer for Katie to figure out where a bird might be, so I gave her plenty of room. Slowly we worked uphill and then crossed another gully into a small patch that in the past has generally held birds--although it doesn't hold birds every year, and it didn't last year.

As soon as we crossed the gully, Katie froze. I worked my way upwind around her, and nothing. She relocated, and worked frantically in the hawthorn along the edge of the gully. I plunged into the patch she was working, and again she froze. WRRRRRRRRRR. A grouse got up from just ahead of me and took off straightaway. I fired twice at its departing rump and missed it cleanly with both shots. Damn. I reloaded as Katie now proceeded cautiously uphill along the edge of the gully. I walked off to the side of her parallel to the gully, and again she froze, trying to figure out where the bird was or had been. I walked cautiously in front of her, and wrrrrrrrr. This bird was closer to me than the other one had been, and wrrrrrrrrrrr, a second bird went up nearly simultaneously to my left from just in front of Katie! BANG, and . . . BANG. I shot at the first bird going straightaway with the right barrel, then turned and shot at the second bird which offered, miraculously, a beautiful left to right shot as it flew behind its partner.

I wasn't sure if I hit either. Hurriedly I reloaded, and Kate relocated, then froze again. WrrrrrrrrrWrrrrrrrrr. Two more birds got up from in front of her from down in the gully. BANG! I took one more shot at the nearer of the two before they both disappeared behind some tall pines.

Wow. Five birds in about a minute's time, four of them within thirty seconds. I took a couple of steps in the direction of the first two birds I shot at, and lo and behold . . . I heard that gratifying flutter of wings on the ground. Katie heard it too, and came over just as I spotted the bird on the ground. From where it lie I judged that it was the second of the first pair that flushed together. Katie caught it on the ground, and I had my first Hector grouse of the year!

Hurriedly I pocketed the bird, and then we followed up the closer shot I had taken on the bird in the second pair from the gully, but with no luck. With darkness closing in, we then went into the hardwoods to followup where those first birds had retreated. Dimly in the back of my mind was the thought that if we found a second dead bird it quite possibly would represent the first double of my life--but sadly it was not meant to be. Katie worked the area for a good ten more minutes, and nothing.

But I was still happy. Seven birds flushed in an hour and a half of hunting, five of which had clearly been worked and pointed by Katie, and I had killed one. Those last five birds had all been within about a forty yard circle of each other, and it was the hottest couple of minutes I had seen in one of my home coverts in a couple of years.

And, despite what the spaniel-loving nattering nabobs of negativity say, to wit,

Nice big running setter, pinning the bird good because there's no gunner in sight. If a grouse flies in the woods, or even does a drunken walk as previously posted, and there is no gunner there to shoot it, is it still dinner?

This afternoon I had five completely shootable birds go up before my mighty setter's points. :-)

Grouse. It's what's for dinner.