Pennsylvania Game News - August 2011 - 17

new GPS, and with the fire banked, we headed to the loft, where I found the pup already comfortably snoozing. The next morning we awoke to a thin blanket of snow covering the ground. After breakfast we geared up. We put on our orange coats and hats, leather chaps and gloves before we noticed the damage. The top half of Kevin’s left boot was missing. Clint sat in the corner avoiding eye contact. I guess there is something about the smell of new boot leather that a young bird dog can’t resist. We drove until the woods looked thick enough to hold grouse. After hunting a short time we found the cover to be not as ideal as it had seemed; we were aimlessly wandering through open hardwoods. Clint didn’t seem to mind, as he opened up his stride and enjoyed running on the flat. Kevin, on the other hand, grumbled as he stumbled over his half-shoe. He was also annoyed because I was constantly updating him on our elevation, average speed, distance from camp and other worthless information from my GPS. We soon approached a white pine thicket that held hundreds of trees from 10 to 20 feet high. Clint’s light-hearted demeanor turned serious. High nosed with methodical strides, he weaved through the pines. It wasn’t long before an explosion of beating wings sent adrenaline rushing through my body. I could not see Kevin or Clint when the double barrel boomed, but one shot is usually a good sign. The dog soon appeared in the pines and brought the grouse to me. When Kevin arrived, his look of confidence did not fool me; it was a lucky shot. We continued through the pines and managed a kill on two of the next three flushes. Soon, daylight began to show
August 2011

ahead of us. When we reached the end of the thicket, we stopped to look over our birds. I was trying not to show my delight in shooting one bird on a hard point. The impressive performance from my young dog was far more rewarding than the kill. We were thrilled to have three birds in the bag and a high kill/shot ratio, but we were concerned that we might not find more huntable cover. I way-pointed the white pines onto my GPS and we continued. Our concern proved correct, as we walked aimlessly for several hours. For two thin young lads in our 20s, the cold damp air and slippery inclines got the better of us. We stopped to eat our lunches. We discussed finding another pine thicket like the one we had just hunted. We talked more about the pros and cons of topographical maps and sore feet and decided it was time to head to the truck. By the time we reached the dirt road that led to the truck we were exhausted. Clint had long since ceased hunting and was content with the easy walking on the road. We were two miles from our vehicle when we heard a vehicle behind us. It was a Game Commission vehicle. Two individuals were tracking elk wearing radio collars. They gave us an odd look when we said we were hunting grouse, but thought perhaps we were onto something when we showed them our birds. When they left, Clint whimpered and pawed the ground, expressing his dismay that
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Pennsylvania Game News - August 2011

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