Hector grouse

Hey gang,
got out for a two-hour hunt with Ol' Gimpy, and we had a great time. Temp was 55 deg F, a slight 4 mph wind was blowing from the west, and I wore my usual crappy upland stuff. Yep, orange Filson hat too.

Kate is moving at (ahem) a fast walk with a pronounced limp. We went out yesterday, and I missed the only woodcock we saw. (Plus Katie didn't hurt herself, so that was good.) Today we fared much better bird-wise. We hunted the Old Tent covert, where years ago we found in the back woods an old canvas tent that had seen better days. We were in the woods by 4:30.

We walked in on the woods road that leads to the Old Tent, and as we drew near the sacred spot I took the low road on the path while Katie worked the thick stuff above me. The leaves were pretty damn dry, and the wind so slight that I tried to stay as quiet as possible while the dogge padded through the dogwood.

Not five minutes had passed when Katie went on point uphill from me in some thick stuff. I had a bit of a clearing off the trail leading up to her, and as I walked in a grouse flushed in a beautifully open flight, left to right, toward the deep woods beyond. I missed the first shot at about twenty yards but nailed the second shot at about twenty five yards. The bird tumbled to the ground, and we were on the board! Score one for Gimpy. Nice big grouse, too.

Later I missed a similar opportunity at a grouse Katie was pointing on the edge of a marshy low area. This bird seemed to flush a lot faster; and as I emptied both barrels at it, a second bird flushed much closer to me. But . . . no more buhwets.

Somewhere along the way Katie pointed a woodcock that flushed from my feet. I was tangled in some thorny crap, but I managed to shoot at the bird (I swear to God!) from the hip--the first time I can ever remember truly shooting without the gun to my shoulder--and lo and behold, the bird crashed about ten yards away. That one is pretty much going to be hamburger.

Katie pointed another grouse as the evening wore on--this bird went up into a tree above her, and as I debated that particular shot, it decided to high tail it out of there, which was fine with me. More for winter hunts.

Finally, Katie pointed another woodcock as it was getting close to sunset. This one flushed straight up, and I missed it overhead at about five yards before settling down and killing it some twenty yards away with the second barrel. Not a bad haul for a two-hour hunt.


Some of you know of Michel Gélinas, our Quebec friend who has an utter fascination with the wily woodcock. Michel's website has a special section reserved for pictures of woodcock deformities. Well, one of today's woodcock is the first one where I've noticed a deformity--one of the birds had lost a digit on one of its feet:

So I guess I'd better send the picture along to Michel.

All in all, a good afternoon's hunt.