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RGS

Healthy Forests, Abundant Wildlife, Conservation Ethic

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Why We Hunt

Last Day of Upland Gunning Season

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An upland hunter reflects on his last day of the season.

Saturday Morning, February 29, began with a crisp, cool, but sunny morning. It was also the last day of the upland gunning season and a day that brings bittersweet thoughts to my mind each year. It is with regret that I know that it hearkens an end my days afield with my canine companions. Yet I also know that my body needs a rest from endless treks across the mountains, my wife would like to see me around a wee bit more, and spring chores await. And gardening season is upon us and fishing in the creeks is just around the corner as the weather warms.

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A Kentucky Grouse Hunter Travels “Up North”

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Mention the words “Up North” and it conjures up different images for different people.  For some it is the sandy beaches of Lake Michigan or any of the other Great Lakes, for others it is the snow of winter and the accompanying snow skiing or riding snowmobiles.  For the fisherman it is the lakes and rivers searching for trout, walleye, northern pike, muskies, or Lake Perch. For the football fans it is the Green Bay Packers or the Minnesota Vikings.  The waters of Lake Superior produce record size smallmouth bass. And mention the Upper Peninsula (UP) and thoughts turn to wilderness, wolves, and bears.

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A Weekend at Grouse Camp with Ruffed Grouse Society – RGS

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The day a German immigrant became an adult-onset hunter at RGS Grouse Camp in Wisconsin

Most grouse and woodcock hunters know this situation: standing in young Aspen cover with a shotgun in your hand. All you hear is the tone of the e-collar that tells you a dog is on point maybe 50 yards away from you. Slowly, but with determination, you make your way through the thick cover of late September, just to end up about 15 yards in front of the dog still strongly on point. 

Just six month ago I would never have thought I’d find myself in the Wisconsin North Woods, chasing the King of the Woods and the curious looking timberdoodle. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even know of the existence of either of these beautiful birds that are now so common to my vocabulary.

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Kentucky Grouse | Life is a Journey – RGS

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Mark Reese grouse hunting in Kentucky

Lessons in life are always there if we can only let ourselves take time to learn them. This past weekend was one of those times that I continued to learn. As President of the Kentucky River Ruffed Grouse Society, I have been leading the charge to help this bellwether bird of forest health for this period of time. From habitat search to fundraisers I have been involved.

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WHY WE HUNT: Member Christian Fichtel, North Carolina

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“To those devoid of imagination, a blank place on the map is a useless waste; to others, the most valuable part.” ~ Aldo Leopold

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I’ve always believed that hunting should be difficult. The act of killing, whether avian or ungulate, carries with it a weight of responsibility that should not be forgotten too quickly. In the Southern Appalachians, the mountains in which I wander, the hunting of the ruffed grouse is, at the very best of times, an exercise in patience and effort.

Each year, my home state of North Carolina collects data from participating hunters and publishes the North Carolina Avid Grouse Hunter Survey. After a peak around 1990, the likelihood of success in our southern mountains has declined in a dramatic way. The odds weren’t good 25 years ago, and even a masochist like myself would have found past numbers sufficiently challenging.

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WHY WE HUNT, Member Drew Phipps

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” . . . it is disturbing to me that there are so few grouse left in the woods here. I often wonder if I will be the last person to walk some of the coverts I hunt. I wonder how many before me have had the same thought? I take hope in the fact that there are still a few folks with dogs fighting the laurel and would like to see more of those people in the future.”

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I was asked by a friend a few weeks ago if I enjoyed failure. This was shortly after I recounted the highlights of last year’s West Virginia grouse season. I laughed it off at the time, but it does make me wonder, after a season of several hundred miles of walking and no birds taken . . .  was it worth it? My answer now and I hope always is: absolutely. The reason I hunt grouse has nothing to do with birds in hand. I hunt grouse because I’m an adrenaline junkie. I have yet to find a sensation that can match the electric moment just before a flush. The moment when dog, man and bird are all awaiting the same release.

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WHY WE HUNT, Member Morgan Wolfe

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” . . . and part of the reason I hunt is because I love the bonds that this sport creates. The bond between a man or woman and a dog, the bond between fellow hunters, and the bond between the hunter and the hunted. Being able to share a hobby and passion with the ones I love means everything to me.” RGS Member Morgan Wolfe

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I remember the first grouse flush I ever saw.  It was in a New Hampshire cover we call “Spilled Milk”.  The dairy farmer who owned the land passed away a long time ago, but before he did he left an old milk can down by the river.  It’s on its side as if it spilled the milk, and it’s near a tremendous amount of Japanese knotweed.  We find woodcock are in there, but further up where the feeder stream joins the river are some old apple trees.  We always work the cover counter-clockwise beginning with the knotweed and woodcock and closing out with the apples and grouse.

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WHY WE HUNT, Member Jim Gray

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I might have arrived late to the grouse hunting scene, but I am determined to do everything I can to “pay it forward” and leave it in better shape than I found it.

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Why do I hunt? I really didn’t have any choice, and I have been eternally grateful. My dad was a quail hunter. He started taking me when I was four or five years old. When I got too tired, he carried me on his shoulders. We hunted the sand hill scrub and pine/palmetto woods of Florida. I got my first shotgun, a JC Higgins .410 single shot for Christmas when I was 10. About that time, quail hunting lands began getting scarce as the hills and pine woods of Central Florida were bulldozed for orange groves. So, we shifted to dove and duck hunting.

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WHY WE HUNT, Member Don Mallicoat

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I don’t remember the first bird I shot. But I do remember when I knew I was a bird hunter. As a burr-headed boy of about 12, I was walking with Uncle Jim along a field edge in Alabama hunting rabbits behind a couple of beagles. The sudden eruption of a covey of quail not only startled my nerves, but drew something up from deep within that said, “This is who you are.” I have now been a bird hunter for 50 years.

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WHY WE HUNT, Member Cooper Rossner

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These connections I make with people, dogs, birds, my heritage and the soil along with the memories and stories I’ll tell for the rest of my life are why I hunt.

Pilot and I with Max, the patriarch

I got into this racket sort of backwards. What I mean by that is . . . I was not brought up gun in hand, nor raised in your stereotypical hunting household with time-honored generational sporting traditions. My bloodline has always had a hand in the outdoors, but was primarily concerned with fishing, and when my father had his fourth son (me), he chose to work overtime instead of go hunting. It was well-worth it though, and I am certainly not complaining. My family moved from the congested and dyspeptic, stripmalled and subdivisioned Camden County to Cape May, New Jersey about halfway through my life. This is where I fell in love with all that nature has to offer, but mostly the birds. Cape May has been described in countless ways as an aviary paradise drawing thousands upon thousands of migrating birds from shorebirds to ducks and geese, to hawks, eagles and songbirds all consequently attracting birders, artists, hunters, etc. and ultimately giving me and my shotgun a run for our money.

[Read more…] about WHY WE HUNT, Member Cooper Rossner