I DIDN'T GET HIS NAME

It's my opinion that --like 'fly fishing'--the sport of 'bird hunting' has its own unique "dimensions".  Here's an example from a few days ago:

K-Lee, my pudelpointer, had been 'cooped up' for a couple days and needed exercise.  So with little more than an hour of daylight remaining, I grabbed my jacket and shotgun (think 'just in case') and headed out to a local farmer's field that is bordered on two sides by streams and backed by a dense swamp.  I'd taken pheasant, snipe, and woodcock from there--though by then, the woodcock and snipe had long since migrated.

We parked next to an SUV, and I saw a hunter moving in and out of the riparian thickets.  I looked for a dog, but it appeared that he was 'flying solo'.  The man was clean-cut with gray hair, dressed in typical bird hunter attire and carrying a well-cared-for side-by-side shotgun.  The way he handled it made me think he knew how to use it.

As I put on my jacket, he came to his vehicle and we exchanged pleasantries.  I thought that he might want to continue to hunt nearby, so I said, "Let me know where you want to go and I'll go in the opposite direction."  He said that he was going down the road to another small field.  I opted to stay, as my main purpose was to exercise K-Lee.  We talked a bit more and he showed me a ruffed grouse that he had just taken from the thickets.  (He had it in a zip-lock bag which made me think he was both a planner and an optimist.)  I have to admit, I was impressed that he could take a grouse from this area.  They are 'few' and extremely spooky because of hunting pressure.   After brief conversation, we each went our way.  

K-Lee really had to run.  She just opened up and covered the field like a low-flying jet.  Once, scent pulled her to a screeching halt.  It must have been a vole or something smelly because after a brief investigation, she was off again.  We "poked" around here and there and she showed interest in a few other things, but nothing came of it. 

We used up our hour and headed back.  Nearing the dirt road, I "heeled" K-Lee to the truck. I had just settled into the front seat when my "new friend" returned and pulled in next to me.  I lowered the passenger car window.  He was quite happy and --after graciously asking me how I did--he shared with me that he bagged another grouse.  I congratulated him and we chatted about how he was going to add the two grouse to his Thanksgiving feast.  He simply radiated with joy as he said, "Two birds down here, ...I haven't done that in years."  He expressed more gratitude for his good fortune, and then uttered good-bye in the form of a confession saying, "I just had to tell someone."  I wished him well as he drove away.  

I drove home, glad it was me that he told.   I experienced once more a dimension of the sport that I hope never to lose.   

Sadly, I didn't get his name.  ...I really need to work on that!

 

THOUGHTS FROM THE 2015 FALL

Upland bird hunting is letting up a bit in New England and now there's time to share a few thoughts that have been rattling in my mind--

Gun Dogs

Generally speaking, a dog is as trained as you are willing to accept.  

Ripsnorter's Fiona  NA1

I've had excellent, mature examples of handling and dog obedience through my participation in a local chapter of NAVHDA. It's my personal opinion that a well-mannered dog--for which you don't have to make excuses--is simply wonderful.   K-Lee and I are still far from our goal, but we're closer thanks to these men and women who lead by example.  I feel great gratitude for them.   Also, I'm much more interested in a dog's point and retrieve than in a dead bird.  Unfortunately, the retrieve is impossible without the latter.  (When I miss my shot, I try to tell folks I'm practicing "catch and release".)


Woodcock
I love these little buggers!  They come off the ground as fast as a grasshopper and zig-zag through the small trees like alien fighter pilots from a sci-fi movie.  They are just so much fun.  I admire my friends that know how to locate and follow them.




Ruffed Grouse
They are truly the 'wildest' bird that I know.  They run, flush and jinx through the alders and 'popples' like cruise missles flying 'nap-of-the-earth'.  How they keep from smacking into the side of a tree I just don't know.  They are so impressive! 



Pheasant
Upper New England pheasant are "put-and-take" birds.  Much like the general trout fishing here ...they're all stocked.  For several reasons--mostly "predation"--they don't last.  There's just not enough cover and food to keep them over.  What little cover that remains in winter becomes a 'target zone' for animal predators.  

Later in the season, the remaining pheasant have learned how to survive.  To me, this makes for a better hunt.  In my mind, one late season bird is worth three early ones.

Wood ducks
Man, how I wanted to jump some woodies with K-Lee this fall! The few times I found wood ducks, I was carrying 'lead', so I hiked back to the truck to restock my vest and hunt with 'steel' to satisfy the law.  Needless to say, the ducks were one step ahead.  The result?  A noisy, duck-less end.  (Working on that!)

Hunting in the fall sun
Whether feeling the cool dew of seemingly primeval  mornings, sweating through radiant afternoons while striding in golden grassy fields, taking breaks in the shade of a glorious maple--aflame with color, or resting in the soft, fragrant  needles under a pine; hunting on such days was akin to a religious experience.  Birds didn't matter.  Dogs and 'being there' did.

Hunting in the rain
"Purgatory"! 

More later....