Friendship

 

"Your greatest advantage in life is having your enemies overestimate your faults, except possibly, for having your friends under-estimate your virtues." ~ Mario Puzo, The Godfather

 

Gentle Readers and Loved Ones all,

"Jim", Rowdy, Geoff, SAV and Grouse

It was my privilege today to hunt the NW Wisconsin woods with a gentleman who has been tramping around up here since his boyhood back in the Depression. Rowdy worked the woods, found some grouse and we had a great time.

It is an unfortunate consequence of the times we live in that I am uncomfortable with expressly stating my friend’s name on the interwebz because of the crazies that inhabit the net. So, for brevity, let’s call him “Jim”.  (Not his real name.)

Jim was one of the several fellows who took me under his wing and accepted me onto his trap shooting team around 5 years ago when I first started seriously shooting trap at the Fishbowl Sportsman’s Club.  Every Wednesday afternoon all through the summer, he tells me great stories about Burnett County.  I treasure his friendship. He's a true gentleman.

Last summer, I bragged on Rowdy and grouse hunting.  I said I’d call him when the leaves fell off the trees and grouse season hit in full.  That happy time finally occurred today and Jim and I joined up to run Rowdy through the trees and see what he popped up. 

Ann came along to drive the Sylvan Assault Vehicle (SAV) so that we didn't have to trudge back along the path we’d already covered. 

At this point, I will add my standard trigger warning that if hunting stories offend you, just stop reading now, please.

There is a fire lane that runs along Loon Creek.  It is your standard 10 yard wide “two track” road designed to be a fire break.  These roads are perfect for the grouse hunter as you can walk down them in relatively easy conditions while Rowdy does the hard work beating the woods on either side.

It was a gorgeous, sunny, coolish day today – in the 40s – and on these kinds of days, the grouse like to hunker on the edge of the fire lanes where they can soak up some warmth, fill their craws with sand and have a clear field of view around them for threats.   We got out of the SAV, gunned up and told Rowdy to “hunt!”  Rowdy crisscrossed the road out into the woods with his tail waving in big happy loops. 

We hadn’t walked 50 yards – Ann can still see us from her seat in the SAV – when I beeped Rowdy and yelled “Sit, Stay!”  Rowdy eagerly sat in the fire lane, his tail wiping an arc in the sand.  I had just spotted the head of a Ruffed Grouse about 50 yards up ahead.  It's sticking up out of the grass on the left side in a bend in the road. 

I told Jim, “There’s a grouse on the left edge of the road up in the bend, I’ll hold Rowdy, you walk on up and shoot him.”  “Geoff, that’s a dead fern sticking up.”  “No, it’s a grouse.”  “Ok, Geoff, you walk on up and get him.”  I really wanted to get Jim a shot, but I wasn’t gonna argue about it right then,  so I started up the fire lane towards the grouse.  Rowdy is sitting about a third of the way to the grouse.  I can’t tell if he’s seen the bird or not but he’s just generally excited.  As I passed Rowdy, I reaffirmed “Stay”.  Rowdy really doesn’t want to stay but does. 

I’ve had my eye on the bird all through this, not wanting to lose sight of it.  Now I’m within roughly 30 yards and the bird is getting agitated.  It’s sucked its feathers up tight against its skin and ducked down closer to the ground.  I mount up my Benelli and get the muzzle picture roughly pointed at the bird and walk maybe 5-10 yards closer.  There are dense brushy woods immediately to the left and a fairly wide shooting zone to the right out over a fairly large bramble thicket on the right edge of the two track.

Finally, the grouse has had enough of the tension filled milieu and flushes to the right, over the road and brambles, just as I’d hoped.  I track the muzzle picture out ahead of the bird, fire once and I’ve either hit the bird or it dives into the brambles. 

Seconds later, Rowdy gallops bye and goes straight to the brambles and begins beating around looking for the bird.  Suddenly, his head dives into the thicket, his tail is sticking straight up, flagging frantically.  He comes up out of the brambles and he has the bird by its breast.  The bird is dead, but beating its wings spasmodically.  The lower wing is drumming on Rowdy’s chest and the upper wing is whapping his eyes and forehead.  Rowdy can’t see where he’s going but majestically ignores the indignity and proudly trots over to me and gives me the bird.  Jim and I tell him “Good dog”, scratch his ears and begin walking down the two track again. 

About 200 or 300 yards later, Rowdy stops beating around in the popples to the left of the two track and comes barreling straight-out to the road.  As he hits the edge, he flushes another grouse that flies across the road but we are way too slow and don't shoot.  Not long after that the fire lane climbs 10’ or so up out of grouse habitat and I called Ann to come get us. 

Just east of that fire lane - maybe a mile away - is another two track I’ve scouted out that leads out to a bear baiting station in the woods.  We go through the same procedure, get out of the SAV, leave Ann to come pick us up later, tell Rowdy to “Hunt!” and begin walking the ¾ mile trail.  Again, we aren’t out of sight of Ann when Rowdy bounces up a grouse on the left edge of the two track.  The trail leads down a hill. There is a sharp drop off down into the thicket below us on the left.  On our near left is a stand of 10-year-old popples growing out of the side of the drop off.  Jim is to my left and I’m closer to the bird. 

I really wanted to get Jim a bird, but he’s way out of position and I’m the one with the shot.  I manage to uncradle my gun, track the bird and shoot just before it bends around to my left behind the popple trees out over the thicket.  Again, it either dives down into the thicket or I’ve hit it.  I can’t tell which.  Rowdy runs straight to the place where I’ve marked the fall and disappears in the thicket.  As I stand there wondering if I hit it, Rowdy proudly trots out with the bird in his mouth and gives it to me. 

Ann is standing next to the SAV back up the hill yelling “Yay!” which gives me an idea.  During training, I have taught Rowdy to take bumpers back to Ann to make things go quicker.  So, I scratch his ears, tell him what a good dog he is and then hold the bird out in front of his nose.  “Hold!” He grabs the bird and sits there.  I point up at Ann and say “Take it to Mom!” and sure as the world, he trots up the road, runs around behind Ann and heels up to her command.  “Give” and now my bride has a bloody dead grouse in her hands.  Success!  She’s giving me a wifely look that says, “Why do I have this bird?” 

“Put it in the back of the SAV!”  I get a disgusted "Ok..."

We turn back down the hill.  Rowdy found us another bird about 10 minutes later that we were too slow to shoot. I called Ann to come get us and we posed for the picture above.

So, in about two hours of morning hunting, Jim, Ann and I managed to find four grouse, bag two of them and just have a great time in the bright, cold sunshine.  A 50% grouse harvest rate is about as good as anyone can expect hunting with a flushing retriever.  It was, quite simply, the best two hours of hunting with Rowdy yet. 

On that happy note, I remain,

Dad/Geoff