As I got out of the truck and grabbed my shotgun, the cold, crisp air filled my nostrils, and I welcomed the scent of balsam fir like an old friend. I loaded my gun, snapped the action shut and headed up the old logging trail.
There are still too many leaves on the trees to see into the woods well, but I trudged uphill with the shotgun in my hand. The pungent smell of decaying leaves and damp earth replaced the fir aroma as I went further up the trail.
I heard a soft “putt putt” and stopped. I scanned the forest for the source, knowing it was a grouse. Remaining motionless, I played the familiar waiting game that usually elicits movement. It worked: the grouse craned its neck, betraying its position and gave me an easy shot.
A flood of emotions came over me. I harkened back to first hunts with my dad, adventures between classes with college buddies and hunts with my longtime hunting partner who passed away a few years ago.
I slipped the warm bird into my game pouch and continued on. It’s bird season again — my happy time of year.
October is prime time for hunting what’s probably the most popular game species in Maine, aside from the white-tailed deer. Colloquially known as “partridge” to many, the ruffed grouse season is open through December 31, but most of us hunt them in October.
While I saw a good number of birds on my first two days of hunting above Rangeley, the jury is still out on whether this will be a good grouse year.
A good grouse year, in my book, is one with plenty of sightings — singles and groups of two or more. Nothing gets your blood pumping faster than rounding a corner and bumping into a covey of four or more birds.
Outside the woods, the conversation starts in rural “mom-and-pop” country stores when you walk in wearing orange gear and boots: “How do the birds look this year?”
My answer is complex. We had a wet spring, which is never ideal for nesting birds, followed by a very dry summer. Grouse can have a second hatch and conditions were perfect for one. However, second-hatch birds typically result in fewer overall numbers. You can often identify them by their smaller size and uneven tail feathers.
Cover also affects success. With heavy leaf cover, it’s hard to spot and hit birds. Without a first frost, grass and roadside ferns hide birds from view. Hunters likely pass over more than they see.
Using dogs improves success, especially early in the season. To help understand bird behavior, I examine their crop — the sack below the throat where they store food before digestion. One crop was filled with mountain ash berries, but the rest consisted of alder leaves and ferns.
After two days of hunting, we saw 15 birds and bagged five. Skittish birds and missed shots explain the difference.
All in all, I had an enjoyable first two days in the grouse woods and look forward to many more, even with a moose hunt in between.
My prediction: It will be a decent bird year, likely featuring a second hatch and some good holdover numbers from last year.
But even if it’s deemed a “bad” bird year, you’d still find me walking that old logging road, shotgun in hand, smiling all the way. A “good” grouse season isn’t just about bird numbers — it’s about being out there in the colorful, brisk October woods.