Written by: James Falstad. Winthrop Harbor, IL
THE HUNT
On an early October Friday I snuck out of work a couple minutes early, loaded the dog and pointed the truck north. We were headed to northern Wisconsin and if we hit traffic just right we’d make it with moments left of shooting light.
Roughly 300 miles later I was throwing the truck in park, opening the door, and turning off the engine in one fluid motion. I had backed into a cut I found late last October with good woodcock numbers. Making my way around the back of the truck to my golden “Bailey” I heard cries and yelps of excitement. As the tail gate came down and I broke out her AWS bell her yelps turned to barking, she was ready. Shotgun in hand and dog at my feet we headed up and over the logging berm and down into the aspen.
Bailey, working close off to my left side was back in her natural cast working an island of pines when the first bird broke. 5 feet off my right a single woodcock erupted from the base of a pine. “No bird” I yelled out as she immediately started working back towards me. The first flush of the season immediately brought a smile to my face and the anxious feeling of whether we would be able to locate birds subsided.
After exchanging smiles Bailey was back to work. The events that followed were something you’d expect to find in the fiction section at the library. Woodcock seemed to be coming from the base of every tree or shrub! Singles, doubles and even a triple taking off in every direction as me and the dog worked the cut. A little too far behind, a little too high, now too low, the little russet fellers seemed to be wearing Kevlar.
As light faded and shooting hours came to a close me and Bailey found ourselves standing in a small clearing. The woodcock seemed to gravitate to the opening, flying around looking for somewhere to put it back down for the night. Back at the truck we shared a laugh and an ice cold beer, the flush counter read 87 but I had only started counting after I ran out of shells. In the time of about 20 minutes we had shot 30 shells, missed every single one, then continued to watch swarms of woodcock come out of the surrounding marsh and aspen.
Maybe my best day hunting woodcock, without ever bagging a bird.
THE CUT
The small timber stand located directly off a busy northern Wisconsin highway is aged 9 years according to OnX. Small aspen flats raised above surrounding bottomlands provide prime habitat for woodcock and a few ruffs. A tight density of ½” and ¾” thick poplar covers most of the area, pine and fern fill in the rest. The faint outline of a decade old logging road offers the openings in the cut.
THE DOG
When the tailgate drops and a small Golden Retriever emerges confused faces usually follow.
Over the last 4 years my girl Bailey or “Bia” has really become a great grouse and woodcock dog. Her fast tempo and close working range usually puts us in optimal shooting position. Unfortunately good dog work can’t always make up for bad shooting. Being an opportunistic retriever she doesn’t mind bringing back a woodcock, while she prefers to pluck and skin the ruffs for me.
All jokes aside she’s truly an amazing dog, anyone who hasn’t hunted over a flushing dog in the aspen should give it a try. A fast paced exciting hunt- just don’t forget your gym shoes!
