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Chapter Two

The Uplands

It’s a nice time of year. Blue skies, white clouds and green grass can’t help but compare favorably with the somber gray/black of January and February. So, in the spring, a young man’s fancy, if he has had proper upbringing, lightly turns to thoughts of picking morel. Trouting is just around the corner and there is no doubt about it. Spring is a marvelous time of year.

However, a lot of people prefer the fall. The reds, browns and yellows of that season also have their partisans. The bow hunting season, honey mushrooms and the woodcock all contribute to autumn’s attraction. I think one of the major reasons for the popularity of autumn is the Tetraonidae family, more particularly, the vexatious Bonasa Umbellus.

The uninitiated probably think I’m referring to a Godfather of some Sicilian Mafia family, but, of course, you know we are considering the Ruffed Grouse.

Vexatious? Absolutely. You can study its habits. You can cross-examine loggers and pour over government contour maps. You can bribe timber cruisers and game wardens to locate its territory. You can even spot coveys in late September and you still may not see a feather on opening day.

The Ruffed Grouse knows twenty-nine ways to make a fool of you. Moreover, it’s learning new ones every year. It can reduce a first class trap shooter to tears. It can give a man good reason to consider the immediate execution of his $500 bird dog. Yet, I know of no one who has voluntarily given up grouse hunting. Every bird season seems to bring something special.

Remember the time you shot and watched the grouse sail out of sight without missing a wing beat? Remember, how there were lots of witnesses hovering about and how you were the subject of a barrage of insulting commentary? Remember how your dog then came out of the brush with the bird in its mouth?

(It happened to Mark Shropshire four years ago. His hunting companions will never forget it - possibly because Mark keeps reminding them.)

No rational person would ever eat a woodcock, but hunters shoot (at) woodcock. QUESTION: Why? Being rational, as all hunters are, they wouldn’t think of cooking it. ANSWER: They don’t want to disappoint the dog that, with straight tail and uplifted fore paw, is frozen on point saying: “Here it is, boss.”

Only an unfeeling lout would let his dog spend all the effort needed to locate the bird, show its expertise by holding the bird in place until the hunter arrives and then rob the dog of its retrieve. The very least the man can do is shoot it to show the dog his heart is in the right place. If he misses, it’s his responsibility to explain his failure to the dog.

The dog is an essential partner in autumn hunting. As a result, there are three kinds of upland hunters. There are hunters who have no dog. They are content to take walks in the woods, carrying a shotgun. There are hunters who have dogs, like to take walks in the woods with a shotgun and like to make the gun go “BANG” every once in a while. Finally, there are hunters who like to take walks in the woods, make the gun go “BANG” once in a while and have no dog.

There is a fundamental difference between Type 2 and Type 3 bird hunters. Type 3 people have wives who become unruly, hysterical and real hard to live with when they find dog hair on the living room furniture. Divorce is usually out of the question. Neither party wants to run the risk of having the judge order them to take custody of their children.

Type 3 sportsmen quickly learn how to resolve their dilemma. They hang around dog trainers, attend field trials and strike up acquaintances with all and sundry who own hunting dogs. They provide food and drink to the dog owners and get invited to hunt with them. The cost of the food and drink is less than the cost of maintaining a dog.

There’s something else about autumn that is attractive to rational people. It’s not only the beautiful colors. It’s the harvest season. The berries - blue, elder and rasp - make their appearance. So do the nuts - hickory, hazel and political. Each year, more and more people become involved in gathering nature’s woodland abundances. The popularity of the collecting of wild foods can be proven by the sharp increase in mushroom poisoning deaths occurring in September and October.

For the upland shooter, life begins with the Autumnal Equinox. It is the time when fishermen metamorphose. Shedding their outer covering of waders and creel, they pick up scatterguns and become bird hunters - that is, the ones that have good dogs (or the ones who have access to them) become bird hunters.

A few days in the October woods is all that is needed to explain why many outdoorsmen prefer the third season. To commemorate that time of year, here are six essays about dogs and mushrooms and grouse and woodcock and autumn.