Rob's Fern Alley Grouse, Oct 03, 2025

“…their noses substituting for my nose, their noses “seeing” the landscape and the birds therein. They are the text I read when I hunt, the translators of the woods, the link between the bird and me.” - Mark Parman “A Grouse Hunter’s Almanac”

 

  

 Gentle Readers and Loved Ones,  

Got another short Rory hunting story to tell.

I’ve talked before about the private property across the road from the cabin. It is Ruffed Grouse Heaven and a privilege to have access to.  Every year, the grouse over there produce a new brood of rufflings. 

Rob and I hunted over there two days in a row. I have two pictures to show you.

We saved the property for the last hunt right before sunset at the end of the first day. While we stomped around, Rory bounced up this year's brood back by the five way corner. It was a big brood, that flushed low and stayed in the cover.  Rob had no shot. I took this picture right before Rory bounced them all up.

Rory senses the brood.

 

 

Last hunt of the second day, we walked over to Fern Alley. I sat Rory, and pointed Rob up the alley, which is a cleared lane between the cover.  The lane floor is covered in dying Ferns. There is a strip of Fir / Evergreens on the left side and on the right is a big solid earthen berm that has a mix of oak and evergreen covering it.  I'm always optimistic about grouse in the Alley.  

If you are curious, this short video of Fern Alley will orient you. 

 Rob walked down Fern Alley.  As I turned to trudge up the berm, I released Rory, who immediately went as birdy as he ever gets.  He starts beating up the evergreen strip, quartering hard.

I hadn’t been up on the berm a minute when I heard Rob shout “Bird!”  Then a shot.  Then “Got ‘em!”.

 Happily, I descended the berm busting through the oak branches to find that Rory has retrieved the grouse and is running to me.  Now, I’ve been working on getting Rory to obey and hunt with others. I really want him to deliver it to Rob.

So, “Sit”.  Rory sits.  “Rob, tap your left leg and say “Heel”. Rory heels over to him. “Now, say ‘give’”. Rory doesn’t want to give it up and I have to use a little collar pressure. He gives the bird to Rob and stays sitting. “Good boy!”

 On that happy note, I remain, Dad/Geoff

Oct 9, Crex Grouse

Success is a pile of failure that you are standing on." ~ Dave Ramsey

 Gentle Readers and Loved Ones,

 

So…after a week up north, Rory and I drove home today. He’d found us a bird or two every day, but we’d only had a clear shot a few times. I was feeling kinda down about grouse hunting.  I considered driving the long way home and seeing if I could buy a bottle of Ol Ruff Rye but I decided instead to spend a few hours driving the complex of trails and firebreaks from Danbury down to Grantsburg through the Crex Meadows area.

 

I didn’t have the GoPro running so you’ll have to do with my meager descriptive skills. …again, if hunting stories bug you, please go elsewhere.

We were traveling down a narrow little sandy two-track firebreak in public land east of Crex. Experience says our success rate in moving a grouse in the area is around 60%.

Suddenly, I saw a ruffed grouse run across the road up ahead and hide in a bramble patch on the left. Rory was in the back seat, head stuck between the seats, peering acutely down the trail. He’d seen the bird too. “Sit. Stay.” I got out of the truck, left the door open, opened the tail gate and slid out the gun. Loaded up two shells. Did a quick inventory that I had Rory’s whistle and the e-collar transmitter. Took a couple of calming breaths.

Then I walked up and opened the back door holding up my hand to make Rory stay. He’s about to jump out of his skin. Step back, “Heel.” He jumped out and obediently heeled and we walked down the two-track towards the brambles thirty or so yards up ahead. I stopped at my best guess of where I should be based on where I thought the bird might be hiding. “Rory, hunt.” He’s off.

He ran down the two track until he got down-wind of the bird. The wind was left to right. He went all birdy, made a hard left bat-turn and hurled himself into the brambles. I’m bringing up the gun.

“Whirr!… the grouse erupted from the brambles flying hard left, Rory behind him. I finished mounting the gun, swung out in front and slapped the trigger just as the bird passed behind a scrub oak thick with brown leaves. The shot pattern was all over the leaves right where the bird disappeared.

Rory went crazy running through the woods, looking for the bird.  After 5 minutes or so he was still hunting. I called him in, which took some work and calmed him down a little.  I'm not very confident I hit the bird but we have to check a little more. 

“Heel”. We heeled back down the two-track towards the truck.  I could see into the woods better - especially the base of the oak scrub I’d shot into. We lined up, “Dead bird,…Shhhhh…Back!” Rory took off hard left ignoring my cast. “No! Heel!” He came back reluctantly but I still haven’t touched the e-collar. I took a little more time to calm him down and cast him again. He went straight to the base of the oak scrub twenty or so yards away. Success! “Tweet! Sit!” He sat at the base of the oak partially visible through all the scrub and then got birdy again. There was scent out there.

So, I took a chance and changed him over to trailing the scent. “Find it!” He did a 180 and disappeared into the woods. I hear him crashing around some time and then silence. Then I heard the measured tread that he has when he’s returning on a retrieve. I was beginning to think “Did I actually hit that bird....?” when he hove back into view with the bird in his mouth tail flagging proudly.

That’s the best feeling ever! “Rory heel! Good Dog!” He heeled and I felt in my pockets for the phone to a get a picture. It’s still in the truck still so I had to trudge back, get the phone and then get this picture. Rory sat steady holding the bird all through this. “Good boy.”

Then we completed the retrieve and he delivered to hand. 

Rory holds the grouse.

On that happy note, I remain,

 

Dad/Geoff

The Jordan Buck and the Beaver

 "One's destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things." ~ Henry Miller

Gentle Readers and Loved Ones,

The next day, the plan was to go to Danbury, WI and have breakfast at Amelia's and then pickup Ron.

Entering Danbury, we headed west towards Amelia’s. Nearing the Gandy Dancer crossing, the Jordan Buck statue suddenly loomed before us and I was compelled to turn into the parking lot of the contiguous Blueberry Junction Playground to conduct an impromptu tour.

Please familiarize yourself with the Jordan Buck story here and here.  

Wiki will also reward your reading if you wish more information about the Jordan Buck.

The Jordan Buck story is Danbury’s claim to fame.  The third week in September is Danbury's Jordan Buck Day that culminates in the Jordan Buck Parade!

Just north of where Mr Jordan smote the buck, the Gandy Dancer bicycle / snowmobile trail - which travels the old railroad bed and bridges - crosses into Danbury proper. The city fathers have erected a fairly nice little historical park with displays detailing the Jordan buck story. One simply cannot visit Danbury, WI without getting a photo in front of the Jordan Buck Statue. It may be a state law.

Rob and I spent some time reading the history and taking your standard touristy pictures. Please try to curb your enthusiasm as you peruse these fine photos. Rory had a big ol' time insinuating himself into the photography. 

Geoff, Rory and the Jordan Buck Statue

 

 

Rob reads about the Jordan Buck

 

Rob and the Antlers

 

 

Geoff, Rory and the Antlers

 

Afterlog: Shooting skeet showed us that Rob needed heftier shells to cycle his shotgun. So, we visited the Log Cabin store to find appropriate ammo. Right next to the gun section of the Log Cabin there is a small corner that sells the products of a local furrier.

 

Rob and the Beaver Hat

 

I think Rob sets off this beaver hat remarkably well.

 

On that happy note, I remain,

 

Dad/Geoff

 

Visit with an old friend

“There are three things that grow more precious with age; old wood to burn, old books to read and old friends to enjoy.” ~ Henry Ford

 

Gentle Readers and Loved Ones,

This latest installment of The Gadabout will return to its earlier travelogue roots.

 One of my oldest friends, Rob, came up to the frozen northlands for a week.  Our goal was to hunt Ruffed Grouse and to tour the World of Accordions and the Bong Museum in Superior WI.  (More about these wonderful museums to come!) 

Rob and I became squadron mates at USAFA in ’74 and spent the next four years grinding our way to graduation from that institution.

 I picked him up at Terminal 2 ( The Humphrey Terminal ) - of the Minneapolis - St Paul International Airport (MSP). The Lindbergh Terminal is Terminal 1. Because the Federal Department of Transportation constrains roadway signage, drivers navigating to the airport are only allowed to read “Terminal 1” and “Terminal 2” as they navigate to avoid confusion and tumult.  Southwest Airlines, being frugal and wise, probably pays less rent to utilize Terminal 2 as their base of operations. I leave it up to the you, the reader, to make a value judgment about rating Hubert Humphrey below Charles Lindbergh in terminal dominance. …but I digress.  Rob had wisely booked travel on the frugal SW Airlines. 

We loaded up his baggage, including his shotgun - didja know one can ship a gun on the airlines as long as you fill out the paperwork and properly announce your intentions?  We secured the truck bed cover and took off north for the cabin.  Sadly, we did not have Capucine as our companion as we went north to Jackson Township!

Our first stop was at the very nice little overlook just across the river from historic Ft. Snelling.  In the background you will see the confluence of the Mississippi and the Minnesota Rivers.

Mississippi and Minnesota Overlook

 

 

We drove up to Alpha, WI and bought lunch at the Burnett County Dairy Cooperative.  We drove out to the nearby world famous artesian well and tailgated as we ate our sandwiches.  In your humble correspondent's opinion, Burnett County Dairy Coop's deli has unbeatable sandwiches.  I also got to click off two more holes on my way to a free sandwich!  No hanging chads on my card!

 

Artesian Well

 

 

Then it was time to press ahead with deliberation to the penultimate Skeet Shooting session of '25 at the Fishbowl United Sportsman Club. Rob had not shot skeet in decades but he picked it up quickly. Humbly, I observe that I shot one of the best rounds I’ve had in years. 

Rob shoots skeet.

 

The alert reader will note that the leaves are still on the trees here in the frozen northern Tundra.  The temperature rose into the lower 80s measured in American degrees Fahrenheit.  This does not bode well for the next week of stalking the wily Ruffed Grouse.

After that, we drove up to Archie and Arthur’s Ice House and had dinner with my old Wisco Friend Ron. We agreed to meet up on the ‘morrow and Ron would drive my truck and pick us up so we did not have to retrace our steps as we patrolled the abundant grouse covers. 

More on that tomorrow. On that happy note, I remain,

 Dad/Geoff 

 ps, the perspicacious reader will have noted by now that vivid landmarks and world class tourist attractions do not abound in Burnett County, WI.  In your humble correspondent's opinion this is well offset by the opportunity to stalk the wily grouse.