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| Spruce Grouse - photo credit |
I had just helped mom put a new refrigerator in. There was freeze and produce everywhere in the kitchen and porch. Instead of being logical and sensical creatures, who finish the refrigerator job by putting everything from the old fridge into the new fridge, we opted to be spontaneous and fun creatures. We went hunting. Or rather, I went hunting and mom provided company. Mister blue peeked his schnaz out the back window in the cutest way. I sang along to the tunes. Mom sipped coffee.
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| This is how Blue rolls. Love it. |
At VOR I decided to get out and walk the ridge down the four wheeler trail looking for birds with Mister Blue. Mom left us there to meet us at the other end of the trail. I started walking. Blue followed for approximately 30 feet and then turn around and went back to where the car WAS and sat there looking for his mom. I had to hike all the way back to Mister Blue and drag him along until he was finally convinced that we were walking along the trail together. It took cajoling and good dogging and c'mere boying until I wanted to pick him up and carry him. Such a momma's boy. Needless to say, chasing and calling the dog caused me to scare away the only grouse I saw on that hike. It was beautiful out and absolutely worth it.
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| Willow ptarmigan - photo credit |
After piling back into the car, onward we drove. Right after the bridge we finally came across a grouse in the road. Down it went, on we went. A little flock of white awaited us as we approached the hills after the clearing. I shot. Down went one ptarmigan. I shot again. I rung the neck of the first ptarmigan and headed towards the second ptarmigan, who promptly decided to run off into the brush. I never leave a bird down. So off into the brush I went. I chased that bird around and around in circles in that brush. His wing was down, his legs were not. I got all tangled up in the willows, the ptarmigan hopped out onto the road and walked around a bit. I crashed out of the willows and he meandered right back in. What. The. Heck. I followed suit yet again. I had twigs in my hair, sweat building up under my hoody, and water in my shoe. This was not working. I stomped out of the willows and to my gun. Up to my shoulder it went. Down went the ptarmigan. I walked right into the willows and picked up the bird. Triumph.
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| Ptarmigan are achangin' color. I think they look beautiful like this. |
I walked back to the other bird and picked it up. Then as I headed back to the car, I realized my mom was doubled over laughing. It brought a huge smile to my face. So much ridiculousness. She was practically in tears with laughter. Days like this day, when the weather was beautiful, and me and mom were just spending time together are my heaven. She's my best friend. Hunting was just the icing on the cake. The hilarity was sprinkles on that cake.
The only bummer came when I went to clean my birds. I ripped the first one open and was utterly disgusted. A teensy little white worm was squirming around on top of the breast meat. It surprised me completely. I'd gotten a bunch earlier in the season and none had any defects or worms or anything wrong with them. So I set the wormy bird aside and went for the second grouse. I ripped it open and was super bummed. Again there were worms on the breast meat. I wanted to cry. I love grouse. They're a lighter meat than ptarmigan and they're so freaking delicious. I went for the third one. It didn't have any worms! Neither did the fourth, the fifth did and the sixth was fine. Both ptarmigan were perfect and looked delicious. It was a serious bummer and I went on a mission to figure out what these little depressing worms were. So far, no one else has encountered them whilst hunting hereabouts. I'll keep asking though. And I'm gonna keep hunting.
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