Two In Hand..

Interesting how animals adjust their daily routine as the temperature drops and fall colors brighten the hillsides. Squirrels scurry from tree to tree. They are busy gathering spruce cones, barking in warning to anyone who dares venture near their winter stores. Grizzly and black bears graze the mountain tundra for blueberries, cranberries, and crowberries. Moose move into the low country to prepare for the rut. Cows are herded up by bulls and guarded closely from theft by intruders. Caribou begin their trek to wintering grounds. Ducks, geese, cranes, and swans begin the rigorous migration south. Even one of my favorite game animals, grouse, become more active as they move about the woods, feeding on berries, rose hips, leaves, and the season's last insects. Every wild creature seems to be on the move as winter approaches our northern lands.
The woods at this time of year are like candy to all my senses. The trees are cloaked in their most beautiful colors. Vibrant yellows, oranges and reds splash across the landscape. Their bright colors are accentuated by dark green spruce forests and divided by meandering streams and rivers. Blueberries and cranberries, ripened to perfection, are a delicious treat; better than any candy. Even the smell of autumn has it’s own uniqueness that is impossible to describe; a musky aroma carried on the crisp morning breeze. There is just nothing like autumn in Alaska and I want to take it all in before it disappears. In the blink of an eye the season has come and gone, just like that. It’s almost as if God has put the world in fast forward at this time of year.
Grouse hunting is my way of saying goodbye to summer. So, come September, I try to spend as much time in the Alaska woods as I can in pursuit of these wonderful game birds. I find there is nothing so peaceful as walking amongst the fallen leaves, watching my dog work the ground ahead of me. And every once in a while, if I am fortunate, watching her work into the scent of a grouse, and listening to the beating of wings against the brush as grouse are flushed into the air.
Today began as an exquisite fall morning. The cool morning temperature and bright sunshine lured me into the outdoors to a newly discovered grouse haunt. The first time I hunted there this season I had seen a few ruffed and spruce grouse, and had been fortunate to take one home.
For this morning’s hunt I must choose between three dogs. Two young chessies, both just over a year old, and Nestle, my 9 yr old chessie/lab cross. While I look forward to taking the youngsters out for a hunt, I know that Nestle’s hunting days are numbered. She tires a little more quickly now, than she did even last year. I want to spend as much time with my ‘girl’ as I can, knowing that she probably has only one or two more seasons of good hunting left. A testament to the retriever’s natural desire to hunt and retrieve game, she is most definitely a cross of the two breeds. As many labs do, she loves people and loves attention from anyone that will give it to her. And while her coat is straight like a labs, she has an incredibly thick undercoat like a chessie. However, in character and mannerisms she appears to carry a good deal of the chesapeake’s loyalty and sensitivity.
With Nestle eager to hunt, shotgun in hand, and a pocketful of shells, we headed down the trail (one of a myriad of trails in this area) in search of grouse. Not long into our stroll I spotted a large spruce hen sitting alongside the trail, apparently enjoying the late morning sun as well. Nestle, working the trees and brush as all good dogs will do, had not seen or smelled the grouse yet. She did not have the favor of the wind either, so I softly called her to me. She quickly recognized by my body language that there was 'business' at hand. She began looking down the trail, in the same direction I was, and spotted the grouse. I am amazed at how communication between two hunting partners can become an unspoken language. Within a few steps I can tell the bird is getting tense and I hope it will hold for just a few more steps. As Nestle runs forward, the bird flushes up and away. The shotgun comes up, following the bird... A quick pull of the trigger and I watch the spruce hen fly into the dense spruce forest, one leg down and feathers falling to the ground. A methodical search ensues and the grouse is recovered, delivered faithfully to hand.
We continue on and come to a corner in the trail, an intersection, actually. Nestle is diligently working the timber on both sides of the trail. Just as we approach the corner I think about calling her back before she gets out of sight. I wonder how unlucky it would be if there were grouse in the trail and having Nestle get there before I do...Too late... She has already rounded the bend, just ahead of me, and I listen intently as what sounds like 3 or 4 grouse flush up into the trees. So close, but out of sight.
Well, lesson learned, I think to myself. In a few steps I catch up to Nestle and begin looking into the trees. She is working hard also, looking for that last bird that tried to stay hidden on the ground. I hear the tell tale cluck of a grouse, which, in this case, nearly simultaneously coincides with the flush of the bird. The grouse had been sitting up in a tree behind me. Not quite fast enough turning around to get a shot, I watch a beautiful big ruff disappear into a thick forest of aspen and spruce trees. We look for more birds, as I know I had heard multiple flushes, but they hold tight in the thick trees and I cannot see them.
We continue on the trail for a bit longer and I find myself looking at the beauty around me. I have to admit, I find it hard sometimes to keep my eyes on the dog, when there is so much to look at and be mesmerized by.
After a few more minutes we turn around and head back for the truck. I would love to stay all morning, but there are always things that need to be done at the house, and I can tell Nestle is getting tired as she slows down her hunt and sticks closer to me. As we descend down the hill, I wonder if Nestle is thinking what I am thinking; if she wants to go back and see if those ruffs have come out of the trees....It is on the way back, more or less, so I figure it's worth a shot.
As we approach the area were we left the ruffs in the trees, Nestle immediately begins to hunt hard. She is crashing through a thicket of wild rose, willow, alder, and young aspen. Tail beating in a frenzy, there’s birds in there, she tells me. Suddenly the whir of wings echoes through the trees, and two, no, three ruffs beat the air. I pick one that has chosen a more open path for escape through the trees and lead it with my gun. After a well placed shot it drops to the ground. Nestle is on top of it before I have the gun off my shoulder. She dutifully brings it to me, and as soon as it's out of her mouth she leaves to hunt again. I can read her mind, there’s just gotta be more birds!
With two birds in hand, I feel we have had a wonderful and successful morning. I say a little prayer of thanks, admiring the stunning beauty of two wonderful birds, not only for the bounty they provide us, but also for the memory the day will hold. Then we take our leave, looking forward to another autumn morning in the Alaska woods.



Juli

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Juli,

Nice read.

I can picture being there. What a very pleasant time.

Thanks for the adventure.

Regards,

Gator

Very pleasant, indeed.

Now that is a nice picture!! Cool story