This ain't gonna be anything close to my timber chicken post from last weekend, but well worth the trip. Wasn't a total bust, and I also found the answer to a mystery that has bugged me for years.
I'm planning on hunting the spot from last week once more, or twice this season but wanted to give it a rest and let the birds get a little bigger.
So, I went about 20 miles away from there to hunt a familiar spot that always has birds but they are generally scattered, meaning I had to cover some turf.
Kind of a "whatcha' got?" type of place, if you will.
I access this ridge from a place that is abandoned until bow season, and then there will be a couple of trailers in there.
Since I have to dang near go right through their camp to get to the birds I always pull in, hoping someone is there so I can find out where their bow guys are at.
Luckily there was one guy in his trailer, taking time out from the hunt watching a football game or something. He told me where his friends were and all was good.
I had the ridge all to myself.
But, it was mid-day and warm, I had no confidence hunting the top of the ridge this time of day. I opted for the shady spots down below.
One thing I like about this hunt is that I can walk a long(bermed off) road that sidehills the ridge and then cut up to the top to hunt back towards my rig, about a three hour endeavor.
The road looks like this, lots of shade but still fairly close to the top of the ridge and critical water down below.
Blues like to be near steep stuff but not necessarily ON it. The hill to my left was steep but as I went along I stopped to take a gander at little benches and bowls below.
I made a mistake today that almost cost me a bird. Stopped to take a picture of this, because it looked so good...
Note to self: Take terrain pictures AFTER you are sure there are no birds there!
It looked good because it WAS good. When I hit the button on the digi-cam a big blue exploded from the shade under the tree on the left.
I didn't deserve this bird, I violated one of my own rules of grousin'.
The camera hit the pine needled turf as I took a snap shot with the Wingmaster, right before the Timber chicken went over the lip of the bench.
A puff of feathers and, *whomp*.
Paydirt.
Nice second year bird.
And that was it for the killin', I jumped one more as I straddled a barb wire fence.
When a blue grouse laughs at you, it is quite humiliating.
I continued on and then cut up to the top of the ridge to hunt back to my rig, had to take a scenery shot.
Here's a few piks of stuff that looks awesome, if you find terrain like this, hunt it carefully.
Mid-day hunts, shade!
Even if you can't find a bird, they manage to tease you somehow.
And then, the mystery of the water jugs. These things have been up here every season for as long as I could remember. They are way hell and gone on the back end of the ridge I hunt.
Now that I know, it should have been glaringly obvious.
When I got done hunting, I stopped in and chatted with the gentleman at his trailer, BS'ed about this and that, talked guns and stuff.
Although he was from Millwaukie he knew the area as well, or better than I did. I said something about the water jugs, he looks at me and says "642 yards...".
???
He walks me a few yards from his trailer and points at the ridge I'd just come down and then I could see the jugs dangling in the fading sunlight.
Turns out his hunting partner is a long range shooting aficionado and that's what they do for entertainment if they aren't hunting. And they do it from their camp.
642 yards....
I understand blowing up water jugs, good clean fun but dang, that's a long way to pack em'!
I told my new friend if I'm hunting that ridge I come back down it right in line of fire of those water jugs. So, if there is a blue Ford Ranger 4x4 nearby, please don't target practice on that hill.
Wasn't a problem. I think he was shocked to run into the .01% of bird hunters who will work their tails off for Blue grouse.
Just another day in God's country.
Mad Mikey
Grousin' part Deux.....
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