Today I managed to get away from chores, to-do lists and general Saturday responsibilities. I made my way for the woods to get in a day of grouse hunting. I had initially intended to hit one cover but told myself that if it got too warm or the birds weren't around, that maybe I'd fish. So I added in a sweet little 3wt Scott fiberglass rod to my pile of grouse gear on the back seat of the truck and headed out. I called a bunch of friends, none of which were able to join me on short notice. So it was a little solo time. I think everyone needs that once in a while.I arrived at the cover only to find another truck there. Had a RGS sticker on the back window. (Ruffed Grouse Society). Not a great sign, but it was only one truck and this cover is huge. So I hunted the opposite side of the road and saw no signs of anyone else. Or any grouse.
I gave it hell for an hour and a half, not one bird up but tons of deer. But its not deer season yet.
Decision time. I made my way back to the truck, and it was still 45 degrees, so it was at least comfortable- not too hot to be moving. I got to my truck, shook two ticks off, and checked the time. 10:03. Perfect. Plenty of time. Headed Southeast for my next favorite cover. Upon arriving, I saw a hunter walking out and another just heading in on the far end of the SGL. I initially said "screw it." Time to fish. I figure I'd let these guys bump birds further into the cover. Most of the time the guys hit the stuff closer to the access. Just like fishing. They push all the birds deep in the thick stuff. Fine with me.
With the rod strung up and the Nikon around my neck, I made my way towards the headwaters of a small creek that holds plenty of native Brook trout. A few casts into the first foot deep slide and I had landed my first fish. Small, but pretty. You don't fish these creeks in search of giants. The trophy is in the beauty of these creatures. Not to mention the creeks are chock full of fish. It's not uncommon to catch more than one fish in every "fishy" looking spot.On my way out I had run into one of the hunters. He was probably 70 years old, hunting wide open woods. I asked him if he saw any, he said no. He told me he was "casually" hunting grouse, but mostly looking for signs of bear. The 3-day bear season opens tomorrow. We exchanged a farewell and I hiked it out.
As I wandered out, I thought, Hmm, this guy was hunting wide open woods. No grouse in their right state of mind hangs out in open wods when there is so much food and safety in the thick stuff. I tore down the rod and drove to the far end of the SGL where I know there is the thick, thorny cover that grouse love. The other cars were gone by now.
I checked the time again. 12:30. Plenty of time. So I traded the fly vest for the game bag and headed on a deer trail in. Lots of crabapples on the ground, red- and green-briar berries. Wild grapes in places. Ferns on the ground. This is the stuff that fall and winter grouse need to survive.
I walked away from the road for about 15 minutes and then got into the really nasty stuff. Both bears and deer love this cover too. Saw some signs of bear- Devils thornberries- these are the tall stalks that have dark purple berries on heads at the top. There were several pulled to the ground and bear scat everywhere. Cool. I headed through a small grove of crabapples and it was one of the rare occassions where I was upright. Just then, a whitetail deer jumped about 20 yards away and when it did, a grouse flushed straight away from me. In one of those rare instinctive moments, I raised my shotgun, flipped the safety off and fired. I heard no more flapping wings. It's amazing how your reaction to a flush happens so fast and you really don't think about it. I gathered up the bird and admired its beauty and had quick check in his crop. Full of red berries. Where you find one, you often find more. But today I was satisfied. If I left now I'd still have another 1/2 hour of cover to hike out with the possibility of more flushes. Then I could hit another creek or two on the way home.
So I hiked it out. No more flushes. But that's OK. On the way home I hit my favorite brook trout stream and it was in perfect shape. The trout were more than cooperative, eating stimulators and small caddis patterns fished on the surface. All is right with the world.
Cast and Blast. Two of my favorite things to do in the woods. I feel like a king today for being able to take advantage of possibly the two best things Pennsylvania has to offer: Trout and Grouse.
