So once again, the annual ruffed grouse hunting trip, which we have made, since 1979 (when it was my, my dad, and his dad) happened again. This year it was both of my brothers, Nell, myself and my dad.
Hard to get the dogs to pose. This was the first day and Gunner (Matt’s lab) was a bit wound up. By the end of the trip he was tired and more subdued.
I enjoyed telling Nell all of the stories about the places we were going to, the different birds and other wild game we had found at different times, and back through my own memory and stories I was told of those that hunted before me.
Pike did fantastic. He quartered beautifully, though I am fairly sure he had little clue as to why. Never had to yell at him, he just sticks close and works back and forth in front of you. Amazing for a 4 month old pup.
At the end of each day he was tuckered out, but fresh as a daisy the next morning and ready to go again.
No snow up there. Ground is still soft. Moths still flying in the evening, and even put up a few woodcock which will head south before the ground freezes. Over 3 dozen flushes, but more of the hunting was in the rain, the grouse were sheltering in heavy stands of balsam, and when they would flush in there you could not see them. Also means we did not miss many times, because we did not shoot a lot. But it was a fantastic trip, and while Nell and I were up there, I was about as happy and care free as I can be.
