For some odd reason, Jarvis could see birds fine as long as they were in the air, but as soon as they hit the ground he just couldn’t find them. It seemed he would spend most of the day bent over looking through weeds, brush, and high grass rather than hunting.

Well meaning friends suggested to Jarvis that he get a dog to help him find the birds. The old fellow felt he was too old to train a dog, or worse yet, he couldn’t subject a vigorous young dog to his slow, plodding way of hunting. No, he decided to grovel in his misery himself.

Then one evening a solution to his problem moved into the apartment building. Each Tuesday night members of the Citizens Against Senility got together to play Hearts. The new gentleman on Jarvis’s right had moved into 401. His hair was fine and white, but his face had a weathered look that indicated many days looking into sun and rain. “He’s got to be a hunter,” thought Jarvis.

The new fellow introduced himself as Ted. Like everyone else, he declared he should not be here, but out at the lake where his house was. “But those darn kids of mine wouldn’t leave me alone until I move into town,” he growled.
As the game progressed he kept looking at Jarvis like he knew him from somewhere. Finally Jarvis called him on it.

“Am I supposed to know you, old timer. Or do you just stare at everybody that way?”

“No, I don’t know you,” Ted retorted. “You just look like an ornrey old hunter to me. Want to go sometime?”

“Sure, but you look kind of old. Can you see very well?”

“Heck, yeah. Let’s go tomorrow,” he said as he threw down the Queen of Spades and stuck Jarvis for thirteen.

By first sunlight the two cohorts were in the woods. Jarvis was elated that he had someone who could be his “eyes.” Ted was no spring chicken either, but hey, if he could see, he as good enough for Jarvis. Of course, he wasn’t about to tell Ted that. He chuckled softly to himself like he’d pulled one over on someone. Suddenly he was jarred back by the roar of wings. Quickly Jarvis fired at the blur and it disappeared.

“Did ya see it drop Ted?”  Jarvis yelled.

“Oh, yeah. No problem.” Ted replied back.

“Well…where did it go down?”

“I don’t know.  I forgot!”

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Obviously that grouse had a keen sense of survival like so many of the grouse that live in this area.  Mid-Minnesota grouse are very wary birds in most cases.  But not all grouse are like that.  A week or so after the afore mentioned grouse evaded me, I went to the  province of Saskatchewan to hunt waterfowl.  A local fellow who befriended us said he had just flushed a bunch of those dummy birds we call ruffed grouse down in the states.  “Stupidest birds I’ve ever seen,” he said.  They are not that dumb I thought and told him they were considered a pretty cagey bird down home.
A few hours later we were sneaking through a row of brush towards a small pond with a bunch of mallards in it when I heard bird sounds all around me.  And, no kidding, there had to be ten ruffed grouse walking  right at me like so many chickens looking for a little feed.  The darn things wouldn’t even jump when I moved!  Fortunately for them I had three friends creeping up on some mallards who would not appreciate my sudden grouse hunting.  Later I returned to bag two single grouse that let me get within a few feet before flushing.

So what is it that makes birds with the same biological make-up wind up at opposite ends of the intelligence spectrum?  Charles Darwin’s theory of  natural selection where the strong and smart prevail while the infirm and stupid end up as dinner is a partial answer.  Down home here there are hordes of hunters chasing grouse from September to January.  Every grouse that doesn’t learn to beat it when a hunter approaches doesn’t survive long, and it’s genes wind up in someone’s garbage.  The smart grouse live to perpetuate themselves, and theoretically produce a population of smart birds.  Apparently in that part of Canada,  the grouse had few hunters to pare down their numbers, so more inept birds survived.  I believe the same difference occurs here between grouse closer to metropolitan areas and those in the far northern part of the state.

Granted, this is not the total answer.  Habitat,  population cycles, and all sorts of things affect the number and survival instincts of the ruffed  grouse.  One thing is for certain, however, I sure enjoy running into some of those dumb ones now and then.

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No other game bird represents American upland bird shooting like the ruffed grouse.   Early colonists quickly recognized the superior eating quality of grouse.  I’ll bet there was probably more grouse than turkey eaten at the first Thanksgiving.
Early sportsmen found the prized birds to a challenging target when taken on the wing.  Though the grouse only flies about half as fast as a duck or goose, they zig-zag around trees and brush so fast they appear to be dodging your shots.

So now that season is almost open, what can one do to put more grouse in the bag?  That may be the toughest question posed by a hunter because there are few pat answers.  Some of the most successful grouse hunters don’t hunt with dogs, others wouldn’t dream of going without one.  Some experts claim you need to take careful aim and lead the bird, some rely on the snapshooting technique to bag a few.

The only thing I know for sure that will put more grouse in the game pouch is to see more birds.  That may sound overly simple, but too many hunters randomly stroll through woods that are terrible grouse cover.

Concentrate your efforts by hunting in spots that offer food and cover for grouse.  In our part of the country that usually means hunting in mature stands of aspen.  But other spots that harbor grouse are thickly grown over spots with apple trees or wild grapes near by.  Fruits like these are usually found in the vicinity of abandoned farms or homesteads.  These spots are even better if there is a few clearings and conifer groves mixed in.

Every time you come across a good spot, mark it in a plat book or on a county or topographical map.  When you’ve laid out a string of them, you’ve developed a “grouse circuit” so you can quickly move from one hot spot to the next.  Just make sure you have permission before venturing across private property.

Good grouse spots usually remain good as long as you don’t get greedy and shoot too many birds.  Once you’ve taken a bird or two from a small spot, look for new areas to add to your circuit.  In the long run you’ll have better hunting for partridge…. or grouse.  Whatever you want to call them.

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During the day we set up stands out of straw bales on the various fields we hunted. The hay field, a 1000yard long, 400 yard wide field would usually support 2 stands, with another 2 in the woods to the north and south of the field. To try something new, we put a stand right on the wood line looking west, across the shorter length of the field. It was positioned so that there would be a shot straight out as well as to the north or south. We also figured that at dawn, it would offer an advantage, as the sun would come up behind us, giving us the best perspective to look out on the field, while also covering the hunter in the stand.

Well, as it turns out, being “wide awake” was negotiable… I bet I lasted a full 20 minutes in the stand before falling sound asleep. With the combination of the cold, lack of sleep and the plentiful beverages from the night before, I didn’t stand a chance. I don’t know how long I was asleep, but shortly after the sun poked out above the woods, i was jostled awake. It took a second to get my bearings, I realized I was in the bales with gun in hand. I sat up, and nearly fell back over. Looking at me wide eyed about 3 feet out from my bales is a large doe. I froze, forgot I had the gun in my hand. At the same moment, the tail goes up and the deer snorts. I was close enough to get the mist in the face…

Whats worse, the deer snorted and immediately ran to the side and into the woods, I didn’t even get the safety off on the gun. Not only did I catch hell back at camp for falling asleep and letting the deer wake me up, I didn’t even get a shot off when it was at barrel length away. Needless to say, I’ll be staying awake in the stand from here on out.

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