Crunching Numbers

Heres the stats from my 2010 - 11 Ruffed Grouse season. Sad but true.

60 hours afield
82 flushes
2 grouse harvested

Flush rate of 1.4 per hour, down from 1.7 last season.

Mind you that half of the recorded flushes were only heard, never seen and half the birds seen were bumped by the pup who still has a fair amount of chase in him. I'm operating under the guise that 2 for 20 isn't to awful, pretty much par for the course as far as grouse hunting goes in my neck of the woods. Right in line with something I once read in a Spiller book, which softens the blow a little bit.

Cedar's first season involved a good amount of wild bird contact and he learned a few priceless lessons in regard to "ol Ruff.

Late Season Grousing

October is a long way out so I decided to make a last ditch effort to move a bird or two this morning. Traveled south quite a distance from my home, hoping for a more modest amount of snow cover. Although there was much less, it was still unreasonable even with the snowshoes. Zero birds moved today but Cedar didn't seem to mind.

A few shots of the cover

Sporting Art

A few of my favorites.

Abbett


Bertram

Renson

Foster

Swamp Gunning

My friend Dave and I have been gunning together for over two decades, in one capacity or another. His family owned a large crop farm where we grew up and every fall we were drawn to one of the many kettle holes within the cut corn fields. These early experiences afield left an imprint on our developing psyches that is undeniable. We still hunt waterfowl together every fall and I would'nt have it any other way.

Dave got his first Chesapeake Bay Retriever shortly after college and never looked back. I have watched two of his pups morph into rock star, retrieving machines over the years. Otter is in his prime now at 7 years old and pulled off some unbelievable blind finds this morning.
Otter and Dave

Early morning limit

Otter cleaning up

Oncorhynchus mykiss

Now that the tomfoolery of the Chinook season has subsided and we have a bit of elbow room, it's time to get down to business. Swimming Spey flies has no doubt become a bit of an obsession over the years...here is a nice player from the weekend,35" of tail-walking goodness!

Cedar's First Grouse!

The leaves have finally dropped and pulling the trigger has become a reality instead of wishful thinking. The early season has been frustrating to say the least, but looks like it is game on from here on out.

Cedar has really stepped it up, learning a great deal in the alder runs and along the marsh edges, intercepting woodcock as they put down their landing gear on the way south. Along with nearly a hundred wild grouse contacts since last fall, the Timberdoodle has proven invaluable in staunching up the young lad and primed him for 'ol ruff, now that we can actually see them attempt to make their escape. Never dreamed he would have so much natural ability.

We hunted a knarly, overgrown orchard this morning with a smattering of buckthorn and young beech and elm. We managed to put two on the ground over beautiful points. At sixteen months, an infant in the grouse woods, with any luck he may just be the one my buddies and I are talking about in our golden years. We shall see.



My Buddy Joe with proud pup!

The Salmon Have Arrived

Was able to hit the river for a few hours yesterday and swing some soft hackles, this is what we found. Gotta love short sleeves and Cohos...Heading back up for another morning session!