It was a late start to the morning, but my brother and I reached the parking spot at the bottom of the mountain at about 7am. It was cold, about an inch or two of snow covered the ground and mountains were surreal to look at. The Eagles Nest Wilderness in the distance looked particularly angry, in an extremely beautiful type of way. We started our hike, bushwhacking straight up, and up, and up.
The vertical slope always makes me question why I do this to myself for the sake of a bird. We don't hunt with dogs, at least not yet, so we have a very particular method of getting into grouse that takes a significant amount of climbing, walking, bushwhacking, and patience. The last three seasons it has worked for us, and we anticipate getting into birds by using the tactic again.
After about 5 and a half hours of nothing, and running into an outdoor lineman who told us about an aggressive bear in the area, my brother pitched the idea of going back to the car. I made the decision to walk an old logging road south, for a mile or two. I suspect we will see some birds, and I tell him. He agrees, and we continue south. About a mile in, we see something in the distance, and sure enough, its a grouse.
It's a tanker of a bird standing perfectly in the middle of a small open area. My brother says "I'm gonna shoot," but I tell him we are too far. We move closer, and it takes off. My brother and I shoot, but I am sure we are still too far. The shots whiz past the bird, and it seemed like it forced the bird to change directions. It lands not too far away, and we approach. I have my brother move up hill, and back. We set up a flank on the birds last position I guess you could say.
When we get close, we see it stand up, and take off. My brother shoots, and I see the tail feathers lower and it continues through the air. I line up, it clears the trees and I pull the trigger. Feathers burst, and it hits the ground hard about 15 yards from where it was shot. It is still flopping around a bit, tough bird. I make my approach, and as soon as I see the bird, another flushes.
I have one shot in my gun at this point, and I got to make it count. I slow it down, take a breath, line my bead and follow the second bird as it flies through the forest. I lead the shot, and it goes right between two stands of trees. A split of a second shot, trigger pulled.
I see the feathers burst and the bird drop, I smacked it and I knew it was dead. As soon as that shot went off, the first bird starts to flap, so I look down, and grab it. Its the biggest grouse I have ever seen, let alone shoot. A tanker. After a 5 minute search on the second bird, we find it, a beautiful hen.
I tell you what, when it comes to hunting grouse. There is just something about it.
The vertical slope always makes me question why I do this to myself for the sake of a bird. We don't hunt with dogs, at least not yet, so we have a very particular method of getting into grouse that takes a significant amount of climbing, walking, bushwhacking, and patience. The last three seasons it has worked for us, and we anticipate getting into birds by using the tactic again.
After about 5 and a half hours of nothing, and running into an outdoor lineman who told us about an aggressive bear in the area, my brother pitched the idea of going back to the car. I made the decision to walk an old logging road south, for a mile or two. I suspect we will see some birds, and I tell him. He agrees, and we continue south. About a mile in, we see something in the distance, and sure enough, its a grouse.
It's a tanker of a bird standing perfectly in the middle of a small open area. My brother says "I'm gonna shoot," but I tell him we are too far. We move closer, and it takes off. My brother and I shoot, but I am sure we are still too far. The shots whiz past the bird, and it seemed like it forced the bird to change directions. It lands not too far away, and we approach. I have my brother move up hill, and back. We set up a flank on the birds last position I guess you could say.
When we get close, we see it stand up, and take off. My brother shoots, and I see the tail feathers lower and it continues through the air. I line up, it clears the trees and I pull the trigger. Feathers burst, and it hits the ground hard about 15 yards from where it was shot. It is still flopping around a bit, tough bird. I make my approach, and as soon as I see the bird, another flushes.
I have one shot in my gun at this point, and I got to make it count. I slow it down, take a breath, line my bead and follow the second bird as it flies through the forest. I lead the shot, and it goes right between two stands of trees. A split of a second shot, trigger pulled.
I see the feathers burst and the bird drop, I smacked it and I knew it was dead. As soon as that shot went off, the first bird starts to flap, so I look down, and grab it. Its the biggest grouse I have ever seen, let alone shoot. A tanker. After a 5 minute search on the second bird, we find it, a beautiful hen.
I tell you what, when it comes to hunting grouse. There is just something about it.
