We all have a “bucket list”. Among countless things, mine includes “grouse dinner by firelight”. I have always wanted to bag a grouse and cook it that very night while camping. (Honestly, I’d like to cook one the very minute I shoot it… like start a fire as soon as it’s dressed and just chow down. But lets not get ahead of ourselves.)
I was camping and riding my dirt bike during grouse season. It just makes sense that I try to get one. Unfortunately, I couldn’t focus. I was so damn happy to be camping at all that I didn’t really give a shit about anything else. I rode around randomly in a “celebration of life”. (This included my aborted effort to hang out at the “abandoned church”.)
Over and over, I’d pass a spot that looked good. I had my shotgun and all my hunting stuff. I intended to hop off, switch from dirt bike to hunting mode, and thrash through the brush looking for a bird. But, I was just to damn happy. The motivation to stomp all over creation looking for a bird or two just wasn’t there.
I’m not alone in this. Nobody just hikes solo looking for a damn bird. You can walk miles and catch nothing but ticks. But… there’s an alternative. You use a machine to wander remote trails. That works!
The locals have distilled it to a science. They pile into a side by side (UTV) and cruise like land sharks. Side by sides have seats for two or more (hence the name). Thus, the driver can drive while the passenger(s) watch for birds.
The guys (and it’s usually guys) are equipped very well and take the challenge seriously. They’re clutching shotguns, dressed in orange, and watching carefully. It pleases me to see them. It’s exactly the kind of thing that would terrify the average urban gun control enthusiast; imagine some person who commutes via light rail to their white collar job and has never been beyond the range of street lights. Imagine if they knew, deep down in their bones knew, rural forest roads are patrolled by armed bird hunters with off road machines.
I love America so much!
Anyway, the UTV’s driver goes slow and steady. If anyone sees a bird, they all jump out (with the exception of the driver). UTVs are inherently good at quick deployment. It’s a split second to leap from slow cruising UTV to feet planted on the ground and taking aim.
(I’m not sure about the details. I think the shotguns are required to be unloaded while in the vehicle. I’m going to assume they’re following all game laws. From a practical standpoint it’s no big deal. One can go from empty magazine to Yosemite Sam in a flash; especially on a UTV which might not even have a door.)
The key to their success is having a driver AND a rider, plus a quick step out of the vehicle.
I have the exact opposite. I’m riding around, deliriously happy, and indeed I occasionally flush a bird. But when I do, it’s a comedy of errors.
I kill the engine, swing down the kickstand, leap off the bike, rip off my gloves like a hockey player fixin’ to fight, and remove my helmet so abruptly I’m lucky I still have ears. Then I reach into two pockets in my gear and grab the three pieces of my takedown shotgun. I slap the three pieces together, slam a shell in the single shot contraption, and…
… by then the bird has flown to Winnipeg.
It is what it is. The shotgun is perfect for riding around with my bike but it’s atrocious at quick deployment.
As I ride, I start thinking about a proper scabbard. Like this guy:
Alas, I’m no Tex Cobb. But, I keep trying. At least I’m seeing birds.
The UTV people, with a dedicated driver, have it made. I’m piloting a two wheeled machine over the ruts and roots of a forest trail and that’s enough to occupy one whole brain. Looking for a camouflaged bird is a second and highly visual challenge. The two aren’t mutually exclusive, but they sure as hell ain’t complementary. Whenever I think I see a bird, I risk focusing on it and plowing into a tree.
The acrobatics of vaulting off a bike are ridiculous and the helmet’s a hassle too. With a helmet on, my head is encased in a clunky plastic bubble. I can’t make a cheek weld and get shooting accuracy suitable for a flying bird. Taking it off takes forever. If I ride without a helmet… did I mention the part about plowing into a tree?
I’m clownishly alternating between half assed looking for birds and not caring at all. Mostly I’m just enjoying the ride. I like to hunt but it ain’t a job. If they get away that’s ok. Usually they thunder off in a flurry of mayhem; like an F18 Super Hornet being catapulted from an aircraft carrier’s deck.
Eventually one, for whatever reason, just scampers behind a tree. It doesn’t emerge on the other side; ergo, the bird is still there.
I fail to find neutral and just kill the engine with the switch. I nearly drop the bike in my hurry to dismount. I fling a glove into the weeds, bounce my helmet onto the dirt in the trail… I don’t care, the bird hasn’t moved and this is my big chance!
I assemble and load my clownishly simple single shot (which I love!) draw back the hammer and…
…nothing. No bird. Either it fled in the lee of the tree and is now residing in Boise, or it’s right there.
I wait. The bird waits. Time stops.
The motorcycle, engine off but headlight still on and burning battery power, waits.
We all wait.
After a few minutes that felt like a week, I hear something stepping in the leaves. A bird’s head emerges from behind a log. The rest of its body is still hidden.
“Oh damn”, I think, “I can’t see most of my target.”
The bird freezes. It sees me. I see it.
Then I realize the head is the target. I take the best head shot anyone has ever taken on a grouse.
I did it!
The best part of grouse is they’re easy to “breast”. That means, you can remove 95% of the useable meat almost effortlessly. So much easier than deer and antelope! (Squirrels are the worst! They’re such a pain!)
I stash the grouse breast in my gear and remind myself to get back to camp early so I’ll have time to figure out how to cook it. More on that later…
(BTW: I’ve cooked grouse before but Mrs. Curmudgeon usually takes over once game gets to the house. Also, I’ve only got what’s at my campsite and not a full kitchen. But I’ll figure it out.)
I celebrate a bit (and use my SpotX to notify my “safety team” I got a grouse for dinner).
When I get back on the bike I’m confident I’ll see more grouse (which is true) and get another one (which isn’t true).
My days of happy camping will continue when I post again…