Grousing instead of Trouting

Yesterday was another fishable day over in New York.  The Batten Kill was running a little high, but it was a doable deal:

That's the good news.  The bad news is that after I got all wadered up and took a few steps and casts into the river, I realized that I just wasn't into the swing of it (all puns intended, as usual).  Hmmm, what to do?

Earlier in the morning, I had been emailing with a "forum friend", artist Bill Elliott, who I met through the Nova Scotia salmon fishing forum (http://www.nsflyguy.ca/) about ruffed grouse.

It's been two seasons since I stepped foot into a grouse covert due to those oft-mentioned pesky surgeries.  It was mid-morning, mid-40's temp and I was pretty handy to about 8,000 acres of New York State public land (those of you that don't know New York...it has an awesome amount of public hunting land for a state of its size and human population).   So, street shoes, legs in horrible shape and all, I decided to go for a walk up into the woods, in search of a grouse.  

I started up following a little brook, all very grousey:

The sun was out.  I liked the way it lit up the water droplets hanging from the multiflora rose:

No grouse yet, but up on top of the ridge, the view was pretty darn good, big dairy farm in the distance (and still in grouse cover):

Hmmmm, I'm not the only one that's been up here looking for grouse:

When I was doing graduate research on ruffed grouse on public lands, I used to quantify (to myself, not the university) grouse coverts by what I called the "shot shell quotient".   The better the covert, the more shells littering the ground.  I picked up buckets full of them over the years.  Still do.  Do you pick up yours?

Ah, finally, a grouse!  OK, what's left of one:

Hard life that, being a grouse.  Everybody wants to eat you.  Including me.  Grouse sauteed in white wine, mushrooms and scallions.  Yum. 

But, legs starting to let me know they haven't gone walking for more than a year, time to head back down.  Followed another little brook back down.  These brooks all end up in the Batten Kill.

It was a fine walk.   Far too long since I've enjoyed the smells and sights of a grouse woods.  I'll be back; maybe tuned up for a longer stay.