Though it had only been a few years since my brother Eric moved to Green Bay, he was very quick to learn about the north woods of Wisconsin. Hunting with his dog Chester, he has found grouse and woodcock by studying the forest ecology and putting boots on the ground to locate their coverts. He now seems pretty reliably able to do so, and our brother Corey and I were finally able to get out there to see it.
Like much of the north woods, Wisconsin is beautiful in the fall, but in the flatter parts, its beauty is more intimate. Expansive vistas are limited to the big skies, but the woods become colorful and varied mosaic of life. Historic farmlands and a patchwork of forests, meadows, ponds, and marshes create a rich landscape that feels timeless, like a paradise for sportsmen of all kinds.
After a long drive north, we came to an expansive bit of forest that included a grouse management area. We walked the service trails for a bit before cutting into the woods towards the successional habitat. It felt “grousy,” but it was hot, and even in a t-shirt, maneuvering through the dense cover made me sweat. With his long coat, Chester wasn’t loving it either, walking slowly just ahead of us. Towards the end of a long walk, he did start to get noticeably excited in two instances as we got near the car. In both cases Eric and I took it as a sign he smelled birds and followed him quickly but to no avail.
As the evening approached, we decided to check out a pond to potentially jump ducks, or set up a few decoys to catch some woodies coming to roost. We made a short drive, parked, and started to walk down a service road along a clear-cut. As we approached the pond we had to cross from the clearing through a short bit of woods. Almost immediately upon entering the timber, Eric and Chester flushed a grouse, but he hadn’t brought his gun. I tried to move on it, flushing it a second time, and though I saw it clearly, it was out of range by that point and I had no shot. Always bring your gun.
The next day we were able to get out again, and after a fairly quick drive were back in the grouse woods. We took a short walk, crossed a small marshy bottom, and came to the first covert. This time it was much cooler, and walking though the dense woods was much more enjoyable. As we crept through the woods towards the next cover, I ranged wide of our line; The blustery day made still-hunting seem possible, and I am always looking for the potshot. Spotting a grouse like Waldo in a collage of similarly colored and shaped stumps and shrubs is fair-chase to me.
On the outskirts of the second cover, 20 yards down a slight hill and partially obscured by the crest, I saw a grouse standing still beside a tree. Appearing tanner than I expected as it basked in the sun, I had to do a double take to be sure that it wasn’t another triangular stick. The moment I was sure it was in fact a grouse, I was shooting. With the blast from the shotgun it disappeared down the the hill. Though I didn’t see it fly away, running forward I was uncertain of the outcome, but there it lay, my first Wisconsin grouse.
I was ecstatic. The chance to hunt with both my brothers is rare; To have success not only with them but because of their woodsmanship and tenacity is a special memory. They’re the kind of guys who will drive 17 hours from the East Coast to wake up at 2 am and duck hunt before hitting the grouse woods. They’re the kind of guys who decide to learn about something like “what, and where exactly are, the grouse woods,” and do. After letting Chester get a good sniff of the bird, I had Eric throw it in my pouch and I took a backseat for the rest of the walk, relishing the moment.
