Puck and I just got back from a couple hours of hunting. We hit a big woodcock spot up the road. I call it the Love/Hate cover – you love the looks of it and hate it when you’re in it.
It’s a punishing spot, loaded with nasty tangles, gagging on alders, and loaded with walls of spruces and shotgun-barrel thick poplars. It’s uphill, too. I fell a bunch on my butt a couple times, got poked in the left eye so hard it made me wonder if I still had a left eye, and cursed about every other minute.
But the birds are always in it. We moved 3 woodcock and 1 grouse in a little over an hour. I shot one woodcock, but never found it. Puck did a half retrieve, dropped it, and then ran off to find another bird.
I looked for it until Puck went on point — again. I looked down at my Astro and it said she was 178 yards out. I marked the bird, and ran off. Not a fun run getting to her, and I couldn’t believe the energy she had. She ran like she was 6, not a decade +1.
We’re going back out this afternoon. The weather was cold & snowing this AM, so the birds should come out this afternoon to grab some sun, gravel, and food for the cold night we’re going to have.