Outdoors
The BDN outdoors section brings readers into the woods, waters and wild places of Maine. It features stories on hunting, fishing, wildlife, conservation and recreation, told by people who live these experiences. This section emphasizes hands-on knowledge, field reports, issues, trends and the traditions that define life outside in Maine. Read more Outdoors stories here.
I’d rather be in the North Maine Woods than virtually anywhere else on the planet. However, I tend to avoid it during upland game bird hunting season. Too crowded.
I don’t mind. There’s plenty of room for everyone to enjoy the woods any way they please. Ruffed grouse are Maine’s most popular game bird, by far. Up to 500,000 grouse are bagged each year.
The ruffed grouse is Pennsylvania’s official state bird, yet its population has declined so dramatically that the bird may disappear altogether. Several states have banned hunting them. Others have listed the birds as threatened or endangered. Yet Maine’s population remains in good shape. Why?
Ruffed grouse require young forests, preferably with lots of aspens and birches. The buds and catkins of those trees, supplemented by berries from young shrubs, help the birds survive the winter. In spring, the chicks need plenty of insects for the protein that supports their rapid growth.
That ideal habitat precisely describes Maine’s working forest. We have young trees and abundant bugs.
By the end of summer, there are more ruffed grouse in Maine than people. Admittedly, the grouse are doing most of the work. They survive by making a lot of babies. Hens lay up to 14 eggs. The precocial chicks can follow Mom a quarter mile through the forest within four days of hatching. They can fly short distances within five.
Despite all the hunters prowling the woods these days, humans are a minor threat compared with the foxes, bobcats, hawks and owls that prey on grouse. Raccoons and skunks devour the eggs in every nest they find. Up to a third of nests are destroyed before the eggs ever hatch. Cold, wet weather can be an even bigger threat, leading to forest-wide nest failures. As every hunter knows, grouse numbers vary considerably from year to year.
Maine does not keep track of how many grouse are taken annually. It’s pretty easy to survey the population, if necessary. Males drum loudly in the spring, and counting the birds heard along a survey route provides a useful estimate of breeding numbers.
A dozen years ago, I joined a University of Maine graduate student on a drive along the Stud Mill Road, east of Milford. We stopped every half-mile along the seven-mile route and heard grouse drumming at a third of those stops.
An adult male’s territory is small, roughly 10 acres. All he needs is food, water, thick cover and a favorite drumming log. If the surrounding habitat provides those basic requirements, he may never travel more than 800 feet from his log for the rest of his life.
Adult females occupy a bigger territory, perhaps 30 acres. They have sole responsibility for raising the chicks and need more room to feed their large families. Young grouse may range up to 100 acres in winter to find enough food.
Let’s address why ruffed grouse are popularly called partridge, especially by hunters and foresters. The ruffed grouse resembles a European game bird species, so early American colonists called them partridge — and the moniker stuck. Grouse and partridge are in the same family as turkeys and quail, but the similarity ends there. Ruffed grouse are forest birds. European partridges prefer open fields and grasslands.
Grouse have a way of surprising people. Every Mainer has been startled by an unseen grouse suddenly thundering away in flight. Some Mainers have been astonished by encounters with unusually friendly grouse. Popular lore is full of stories about a ruffed grouse wandering into a yard and keeping company with people and pets.
It’s odd behavior from a bird that has been hunted by humans since the last Ice Age. Many of these encounters may not represent friendliness at all. During breeding season, grouse can become aggressive and challenge people who enter their perceived territories.
Nonetheless, it’s my opinion that some grouse enjoy human companionship. A territorial bird would typically strut, ruffle its feathers and perhaps chase. But many of the tales involve birds that did none of those things. Two years ago, I had a grouse walk into my campsite and sit beside me, occasionally cooing quietly.
Perhaps that’s the clue. Grouse can become habituated to people. They live deep in the Maine woods, but also in settled areas. I encounter them regularly in Bangor City Forest and Essex Woods. Historical accounts suggest they were always rather tame. The only reason they avoid us now is because we think they’re tasty.
