With deer season only a memory now, my thoughts have shifted toward pursuing the elusive ruffed grouse. I think I was as eager as Jack, Sammy’s 8-year-old English setter, to get out for the first grouse hunt of the New Year a couple of weekends ago. So far, the weather has cooperated with minimal snowfall this winter, and on that Saturday the conditions were perfect.

There was a light rain falling as we pulled into the spot where we would start the hunt. Sammy opened the dog box and put the collar on Jack as I loaded and shucked a shell into my shotgun. The overcast skies and damp ground made for good scenting conditions for Jack. 

Just as we started down the old road, the rain let up and the sun tried to peak through. Not long into the hunt we found what we were looking for after we neared the first patch of thick brush on the old strip mine bench we were walking along. I was running my mouth and into a good story (imagine that) when all of a sudden a grouse erupted out of the briar patch right in front of us.

Jack had swung to our left and went around the sitting bird. After the quick initial surprise you always get when a grouse flushes unexpectedly, I caught movement to my right and there was another grouse. I shouldered my 16-gauge and turned toward the bird as it took flight. I tried to draw a bead on the fleeing grouse, but the brush was too thick. There was a third grouse that took off at the same time.

We weren’t even 15 minutes into the hunt when all of this action happened, so things were looking good. We continued on and I tried my best to keep the story telling down. We flushed a couple more birds that we only heard but didn’t see. 

Jack was working out in front of us as we neared another patch of thick briars and autumn olive. About that time the ground shook right beside Sammy, not five feet away as a grouse took off out of a grapevine. He shouldered his automatic 20-gauge shotgun and racked off three quick shots, but the bird glided away unharmed.

I also got a shot off but not as fast as Sammy. I’m going to have to get me one of those automatic shotguns as Sammy gets three shots to my one. Flushing grouse are hard to hit, especially in the thick West Virginia woods where they live. 

The wind was blowing at our backs most of the time and the wrong way for Jack to pick up on the scent. He was going past them before he smelled them. We continued on and Jack got lined out when he went on point at the edge of a steep bank.

Sammy and I eased in toward Jack, only to hear the sound of wing beats from the flushing grouse as they glided over the hill. Once again Sammy got a quick shot or two off but didn’t connect. By then we were over halfway through the hunt and had a few less shells, but no grouse. 

Just as we neared another thick patch of briars, Sammy told me to get ready as it was a good spot. Jack was working a hollow to our left when, once again, a grouse flew up right in front of Sammy. He quickly shouldered his gun and shot, and shot, and shot again but the grouse kept going. “Man, I was all over that thing. I don’t know how I missed it.” Sammy said with a bewildered tone. “This gun must be off,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah … famous last words,” I replied. I enjoyed giving him heck after that.

We ended up flushing another grouse before we got to the truck but it went low and I wasn’t sure where Jack was so I didn’t shoot. It’s always best to play it safe when you’re unsure. 

We took a lunch break and drove to another spot that afternoon. On the drive in I had to stop as a grouse was standing in the middle of the road. It slowly walked off and we marked the location as we had planned on hunting the old strip road back out.

I parked a few hundred yards up the road and we all got ready as we knew there was a grouse close by. Jack worked his way up the road and we followed. As we neared the location where the grouse was, Jack stopped dead in his tracks and went on point — only he was on the opposite side of the road from where the grouse went.

“Get ready,” Sammy said as he slowly crept in. Jack remained still, looking intently in front of him when all of a sudden two grouse took off over the hill. I stayed on the road and kept watching the other side when that grouse decided it, too, had had enough and took off. I drew a bead and fired but missed and the grouse sailed off.

We walked on out the road and in no time Jack was on point again. This time he was over the hill locked up motionless on an old logging road about 30 yards away. I eased up the road to get in front of him and when I peeked over the bank it was a sight of beauty.

There stood Jack on a perfect point with the grouse standing in the road not 15 yards in front of him. The grouse saw me the same time I saw it and wasted no time in taking flight. Once again I shot but the grouse glided down the mountain unharmed.

That was by far the best point of the day but Jack had two more after that. Both of those points the grouse held tight and allowed Jack to get close. And like all the others, they flushed, we shot and they flew away unscathed. By then Sammy was certain his gun was off and I suggested he shoot it to find out.

We found an old stump and picked a spot and, sure enough, when Sammy shot he was almost a foot low. He shot again with the same results. Sure enough his gun was off and he had been shooting under those grouse all day.

(Ummm, not sure what my excuse is.)

By the end of the day we flushed a total of 16 different grouse and didn’t kill a one. Needless to say, we didn’t hurt the grouse population any, but sure had fun shooting. Like I said earlier, those suckers are hard to hit, which makes them so fun to hunt.

Grouse season is in until Feb. 29 so there’s still plenty of time to make it back out for another outing. I’ll have to go get some more shells and Sammy needs to line his gun in before then.