Woodcock and Ticks - redemption

Veterans Day, 2008. I honored our heros with a day in the Pennsylvania woods, hoping the woodcock had preceded our recent cold front.

9-1
First to Cobert Covert with Lilly. Conditions were cool (40s-low 50s) but dry. Nothing. At 10 we tried a new covert on a south facing hillslope managed by Penn State. Lilly pointed a grouse (reflush) but bumped it as I fought the underbrush trying to get to her. Then, a one hour Bonasa hiatus. Just when I thought we were done, as I emerged from pine plantation to a 20 ac clearcut, I flushed a bird into the open by almost stepping on it. I was not "in the moment" so I rushed the shot. I thought I'd clipped it. Lilly is a delight to watch when she is hunting dead, but even her heroic efforts couldn't make one materialize. I was less disappointed than I was confused, but I was able to regain my composure and a semblance of calm for the budding pup. From there, we scouted the slopes of Tussey Mountain, tried our hand at a covert that is best in January after the snow has settled, then headed home for lunch and Cody.

2-5
The infamous grouse research plots are now open to hunting. This is the land of popple, and ticks. I alternated the dogs. An initial treck with Lilly, too close to a firing range, turned up nothing. I relocated the truck, disconcerted by the number of vehicles parked at every likely looking patch of cover. Another quick excursion, this time with Cody, and I was ready to call it quits. Conditions were bone dry. Ticks were crawling all over the black dog, dozens of them. We ran into a pair of bunny hunters, exchanging information: bunny hunters had seen no bunnies but had bumped many woodcock; tick-covered bird hunter had seen not birds but had bumped two bunnies. We pressed on, eventually finding a large stand of aspen with a fairly thick undergrowth of miscellaneous eye swatting bushes.

In minutes we flushed our first bird. I dropped it and Cody quickly found it, mouthing it a few times but unwilling to pick it up. It was an enormous bodied adult female (Andy would probably ID it as a hatch year male). Bodacious and blond. We soon flushed several more birds, but the understory was too high and thick for me to make much of the opportunities. More importantly, Cody became quite disoriented, losing me several times and unable to locate me when I called her. So, we returned to the truck and I brought out a thoroughly tired Lilly.

Within several minutes we flushed our first bird. I don't know who did the flushing, but I decided to shoot, cleanly missing with the right barrel. As the bird disappeared from range I pulled the rear trigger and the bird stopped it's progress, descending to the earth in a controlled, sitting position. We hunted it dead but Lilly immediately bumped a woodcock. Was it our bird or another bird? Lilly is regularly bumping woodcock. I've been told she'll figure them out eventually. We bumped four more birds and I did my fare share of polluting the environment with lead, briefly forgetting that I was in training mode. Bad Pete. I leashed the dog and stumbled back to the truck, ticks dropping from every branch we passed.

We returned to site of the potentially lost bird with Cody and Lilly. They both hunted the dead bird with enthusiasm, and suddenly there was a flush. A clearly injured woodcock rose and flew over my head. You could see it losing steam and, within 10 yards it simply dropped to the earth. The two dogs were on it and Lilly promptly brought it to me, refusing to release her prize but technically delivering to hand. I was elated, vindicated and redeemed. We returned to the truck where I spent fifteen minutes removing several dozen ticks from each of the dogs. At home, I removed another 50 from Cody alone. Vive les ticks!