Grouse Hunting

Normally I hunt ruffed grouse without a dog, moving slowly, listening for the soft “putt-putt” that some birds utter when nervous. I stop frequently, trying to startle them into flight. Hunting this way always reminds me of Elmer Fudd as he tried to get Bugs Bunny. No matter how prepared you are, the ruffed grouse always seems to fool even the best hunters. This time I wanted to try and teach my German Shorthair, Star, a little about these quick-flying birds. Star is a proven pheasant pointer with a strong desire to retrieve and his range is close, so I thought that with the grouse population on the climb, now would be a great time to introduce him to a grouse.

We jumped in the truck and headed north to some state land that I have not hunted for a few years, to find some birds. First stop was a small hidden trail that leads from the gravel road to a little land point bordered by swamp. Swamps and stream edges are one of the things that I am concentrating on this time of year; the grouse love some of the plants that grow in those lowland areas. The Gray Dogwood is one of my favorite plants to find and hunt around. It produces a small white fruit that grows on bright red steams that grouse love to eat. When you find areas that have Gray Dogwoods; grouse will be close by.

Our first trail was birdless, but we had a great training session despite that fact. Star wanted to run through the woods carelessly, as I expected he would, but with a few corrections he started to work each side of the trail like a seasoned vet. Back to the truck for some water and then off to the next stop.

Our next trail was a grouse hunters dream, young aspen trees as thick as your wrist, perfect brooding habitat. I was hoping to find some young birds that would not flush at the sight of a dog. This cover was so dense even Star had a hard time walking through it. The first flush was a wild one; I never even saw the grouse. Same with the second bird. The third flush came with Star hot on its tail. Since this was a training session, no point = no reward of retrieve, even when this grouse gave me a fantastic clear crossing shot, I had to pass. As we round the corner I see Star is getting birdie. He eases into a beautiful point. A grouse explodes with great commotion and heads to my left. I shouldered my gun and started swinging to acquire the correct lead. Just before clicking off the safety, my gun is abruptly stopped by a young aspen tree. Or should I say that I slammed my barrel into an aspen tree. We encountered three more wild flushes on our way back to the truck. Six flushes in just forty minutes of hunting.

Now that Star is hunting like a decent grouse dog, we jump in the truck and head off to one of my favorite trails. After a short twenty minute drive, we head out onto a footpath that runs for miles. I grab my GPS; lock in the truck coordinates as in this area like most finding birds means getting off the main trail. While this trail runs through a lot of marginal habitat, it has some exceptional area if one takes the time and effort to look. A mile into our hike, I spot a swamp that is lined with Dogwood trees. Just about the time I am going to tell Star to slow down, he slams into a solid point. I ease up to him and now I can see a young bird just a few yards ahead of him. I ready myself for a quick shot. Even though I know the unsettling eruption that is about to happen when the grouse takes flight, it still manages to send a shiver down my back. This bird flies right into a small clearing, leaving me an easy straightaway shot. One shot is all it takes to fold this bird and as soon as I shot, Star makes his break for the retrieve. After a brief search, Star is retrieving his first ruffed grouse. At that moment I could not have been prouder of him.

We walked another hour or so and flushed more birds than I have heard or seen in many years. Birds flushed wildly from both the ground and from the trees. Star pointed a few birds that I never even got a chance to fire shots at; for the ones that I did shoot at, my shooting was not straight or true. I am blaming the small Aspen tree that stopped my swinging gun as it must have bent the barrel on my gun.
I now completely understand how Elmer Fudd feels after chasing these birds.

A short recap of our three hour hunt:
Shots fired: 7
Total flushes: 19
Birds in the vest: 1

I guess I need to chase those wascally wabbits again soon, very soon.

Untill Next Time,
Ron