Over the course of 30 years as you would expect an area as beautiful as the driftless area of Wisconsin continued to be discovered for what it was. One of the most desirable places to live in rural America. Not far from population centers you were quickly in the wooded hills and valleys largely occupied by family owned dairy operations. No trespassing signs were a rarity in the seventies and eighties. You could experience excellent trout fishing and grouse hunting walking mile after mile crossing fences without much interference except maybe from a Holstein bull on occasion. A foe most certainly to not be underestimated. The deer herd had years earlier moved to this part of the state and flourished in the rich farmland country.
In the early fall of 1981 my friend Peter and I walked back to the valley behind my property a half mile and had a wonderful grouse hunt walking the hillsides of the Love Creek valley. This was a classic section of grazed wooded pasture with thickets of brush and cover in between open areas under a canopy of mixed hardwoods. Peter loved those hills and spent most of his time with fly rod or his Ithaca 20 gauge in hand . His English setter was a constant companion. We cleaned the birds that day out behind the old barn at my place as we talked about dogs and grouse hunting. Peter shot 5 birds to my 2. Boy he was quick with that Ithaca!
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| The Love Creek Valley |
As interest rates eased during this time the migration into the hills and valleys by urban pioneers became more prevalent. Some with more money than others built on the hills so everyone could see their vision of beauty. These places became like the acne of the countryside and it spread from one valley to the next and from one ridge top to the next as family farms were sold off and divided. During this time the number of dairy farms in the state plummeted as the latest generation looked to the future and cashed in their chips while they could.
What followed was no surprise. With each farm that was divided new signs went up. No Trespassing! Keep Out! No Fishing! No Hunting! "This is my 10 acres!" "This is my 40 Acres!" And so and so on. And "No you can't pick mushrooms either" people would say if you asked. No! No! No! Who the hell were these people I thought. City people moved to the countryside was the answer. A plague of sorts had come to the driftless area forever changing the landscape and the personality of the countryside.
Depending on how you chose to enjoy your time outdoors determined I suppose how you viewed this transition and new reality. For a pointing dog man longing to walk mile after mile with his bird dog's it was no place to live. A place to seek refuge from time to time maybe but certainly not a place to confine a crew of beautiful animals bred to pursue every species of upland birds. As sportsman no matter what our passion we all dream of someday living within the ideal environment for our sport. The day we decide to follow our instincts and cross over the line making our passion a way of life is our day of reckoning. Some of us cross over and some of us continue to dream content with memories of our times in the field. Each side of the line has it's risks and rewards with either choice being right or wrong a deeply personal question.
On a recent trip back to Wisconsin the setters and I drove through some of the territory reminding me of the early days before the wholesale transformation of the states dairy farm country.
When it was time to turn west and head for the high plains we now call home it felt good to have my back to the past. I'm glad for the days we were there and the great times we had but I "Shed No Tears" as we turned off the interstate and crossed over into bird country once again.
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| Back in bird country once again. |
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