It was early December 2005. I had finished up the deer season shooting a couple deer for the freezer right out the front door at the farm basically. We had a great set up with a clover food plot at one end of the valley and a corn plot at the other. There was a spring on my neighbors property to the south and abundant wild apple tree's and plenty of oak tree's producing acorns every where. No surprise the deer herd had flourished in the southern part of the state. But during this time the Ruffed Grouse had become almost non existent in the driftless area of the state however in the northern area of Wisconsin it was on the upswing in the birds cycle. Since my mother lived up there I decided to take the Setter's up for a weekend visit and foray in the covert's of the north country.
As a kid hunting with my Dad we never got to far off the fire lanes out in the woods for fear of getting lost although the compass had been around for a couple hundred years by then I think but was not something we ever carried while hunting or trout fishing in this area. And I do remember getting lost a couple times. Thanks to my Grandmother Stella I was always looking over my shoulder as a kid in the woods being afraid there was a bear around every corner. You see she made great fun out of telling us scary stories from the time we were very little about the big papa bears that lurked out there in the bush. Then just before we'd leave to head out to the trout stream she'd always remind us to watch out for the papa bear's and laugh that deep throat-ed laugh she had. But truth be told we would on occasion see black bears while fishing which would trigger my Dad also not fond of bear's to say" Let's get the hell out of here!" Now I also had done some homework on hunting Ruffed Grouse and identifying cover trying to sharpen my skills. And yes I had a compass pinned to my vest as well as a cell phone even though GPS units had been around for a few years!
I chose some cover with what I thought was all the right stuff with aspen at the right age etc.. Then as an experiment I let all the pup's out for a walk in the north woods. Knowing I'd be in thick cover they all had bells. Mick being really from a classic Grouse dog lineage was more methodical in how he worked and I could see he was having fun. Molly on the other hand worked fast and covered ground quickly getting out of sight easily in a matter of seconds. Beau on the other hand being as tall as he is and very athletic was over the next hill before I even knew which direction he went. Right off the bat I heard Beau barking. What the hell now I thought. Well the problem was that being only used to hunting with me on the plains country he wasn't used to loosing sight of me and in cases where he had would always bark to signal he had lost me. A good system. I had to laugh. I'm out in this classic Grouse cover. Bells ringing and a dog barking! Hadn't seen any birds yet though! I wonder why? And oops don't trip over that log!
Well after that experiment I knew Mick was probably my best bet and maybe if I let Molly out with him they'd work good together. So I picked another spot along a ridge bordering a creek and swampy area I thought may hold either Grouse or Woodcock. Both dog's were working well but I didn't like them out of my sight. I like watching my dog's work and was spoiled by the open country hunting I'd been doing. And oops remember to watch out for that log again. Yeah and there goes your hat stuck on that branch! It's verrry bad luck to loose your hat! Where the hell are the dog's? I don't here those bells! Don't get me wrong I had really enjoyed hunting these birds in the Love Creek valley during the 80's in the wooded pasture's of the driftless area but in much more open cover. I was trying to understand the attraction of this north country hunting but wasn't quite getting it. Maybe that's why the local's just drove around in pick ups drinking beer and shooting from their vehicles. Anyway I don't here bells or dog's barking! They couldn't be far away so I just stood still and began looking through the underbrush trying to spot the dog's hoping they were on point. Nothing. I moved a few steps ahead and stood still again looking in all directions. Bingo! I sighted Mick pointing in the direction of a spruce tree with branches almost to the ground about 30 feet away. I couldn't see Molly but suspected she was honoring close by so any shot had to be well into the air to be safe. I contemplated for a moment a possible approach and shooting lane. This was going to be a crap shoot at best in this thick cover so I picked a line and moved ahead getting within 10 feet when a single Grouse drummed it's wings in that classic rhythm bursting from the cover of the spruce tree. I shouldered my gun looking up for the bird and caught a view as it crossed an opening in the tree's briefly. It was a beautiful picture as it arced across the open sky for just a brief moment. I then took what would be my only shot missing the bird but glad to have gotten the opportunity. To hear it's wings beat. See it's wing's extended and all it's color's in shades of brown and grey as it arced across the sky. And for the opportunity for the Setter's to have experienced the same in their own way.
We continued on for a few hundred more yards with one other flush which was wild and no shot but I had decided I was spoiled by the open cover hunting of the plains although I was hunting with dog's bred as classic Grouse hunter's. I understand the magic of hunting this bird and it's allure. The smells and beauty of the north woods. But I as well as my dog's were now adapted to a very different sport and style of hunting. These dog's are much to beautiful not to be able to see them working I decided. So we headed back to the Jeep another experiment completed as we heard Beau barking as we got closer.
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