It is difficult to improve on October – the last good weather before winter coupled with the onset of the first morning frosts. Besides, it’s the peak of grouse and woodcock season. There are few better things.
For a few days of such fine things, my friend Dave Fronczak and I traveled to Minnesota. We hunted north to south through a variety of habitats and landscapes. Each day presented something new and challenging and something wonderful to see.
Cass County
On the twenty-second of October, Cass County beams fall colors. Woodcock are everywhere, and Dave’s Labrador Jesse seems to find them all. We push through cover just off a county road and work our way east into a tangle of young aspens that she works methodically, quartering until she locates a scent and zeroes in on the bird. She rarely gets too far ahead of us, though a couple of times I have seen her give in to her senses and rush toward an area where there are several birds sitting in the leaves.
I can’t say I blame her. It is a sensory overload that only dogs understand. The scent of birds infuses their souls the way our dreams command our unconscious psyches. I believe dogs relive smells the way we recollect images from our lives: a first love, a place unique in memory, the transition from night to dawn. A 7-year-old golden retriever spinning dizzying circles upon entering a patch of cover where she found rooster pheasants the prior year is clearly aware of some portion of her past. Last year, in good quail country for the first time in several years, my 10-year-old English pointer lay down and cried at the distant scent of a covey – he was home.
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Tail feathers - STANDARDS AND PRACTICES
\"An armed society is a polite society,\" the NRA says in one of its dicta, cribbed from Robert A. Heinlein, a 20th-century American science fiction writer.
Day's End - IN PRAISE OF FENCEROWS
Driving north along the Hudson River, I gazed at a pastoral autumn scene: sere fields of faded yellow harvested corn, stubbly and broken amongst the clods of black earth, almost smooth from my vantage point. Spiky brown veins of wild growth marked barriers between plots. Occasionally, the gray bones of a mature oak rose among the brown shrubs to stand over the yellow fields. A sentry, keeping silent watch as white frost crystals slowly melted into invisibility.
That Time of Year Again
Without doubt. The most idyllic form of hunting in Ohio is seeking the woodcock. - Merrill Gilfallan, Moods of the Ohio Moons: An Outdoorsman's Almanac (1991)
I Don't Wanna'!
I'm an old hand at being retired, though - have been practicing for 25 years.
Hunting the Huns: Alberta's Big Sky Country
The prairies of southern Alberta are vast, beautiful and full of prime bird habitat. Crop fields are interspersed with abandoned farms, rolling hills are intersected by coulees and creek beds, and Hungarian partridge and sharptailed grouse occupy some of the best and most picturesque habitat on the continent.
Side Dish - End of Season
Sporting trips are not only about sport, as many other experiences are discovered alongside. And my trip to Lakewood Camps in Maine was certainly just that.
AN EXTENDED STAY
There is no reason to leave Michigan in the fall unless the opportunity of a cast and blast adventure at a historic sporting lodge in Maine comes calling.
KEEP IT HANDY
If you think shooting a ruffed grouse on the wing with a shotgun is tough, try shooting one in flight with a still camera.
A Longtime Love Affair
It's possible to hunt your favorite birds in a lot of different places, I suppose, but I don't do that.
Profile of an Artist: Harley Bartlett
Harley Bartlett was born in 1959 near Pittsburg, Pennsylvania. However, having lived in Rhode Island for most of his life he considers himself a Rhode Islander.