Sabrina the German Shorthair Pointer

Colorado High Country Grouse

I always count the days through the Summer until the Blue Grouse opener here in Colorado. The Grouse opener marks the official start of the upland hunting season for me and September is breath taking in the high country where the Blues reside.

As Fall approaches the birds begin their migration up to the pockets of dark timber where they will Winter and subsist on the needles of the Douglas Fir. You might assume that these birds would be low on the culinary scale with their diet of evergreen needles, but in fact Blues are second only to Quail on the table in my opinion. The Blue Grouse are the only animals in the high country to actually migrate higher through the Winter, and my favorite hunting location for them is at or above11,000 feet.

Blue Grouse hunting is challenging due to the steepness of the terrain and the elevation they inhabit. The only places I found Grouse to be numerous were areas that are not accessible to motorized access. This means hiking in to some of the most remote and beautiful places in the high country. Though Grouse typically inhabit the dark timber, the birds will concentrate in the evening out in open parks around the berry bushes and grasshoppers that occur there. This makes for a great hunting opportunity for a pointing dog as the birds will hold well when caught out in the open.

Three Generations On The Prairie

The North Dakota non resident Pheasant opener started October 18 and I couldn't remember when I have been more excited about opening day. Last year was a phenomenal season in the Dakotas. The reports this year were not as encouraging with the substantial loss of CRP due to emergency haying, and the lingering drought in the South West, but even an average season in the Dakota Territory is pretty impressive compared to other states.

The most exciting aspect of this year was not the Pheasant forecast, but the opportunity afforded me to hunt a few days with my dad and my 8 year old son. I was elated this year as my son was ready and willing to come along for a couple days, and Grandpa had accepted the opportunity to fly out and join us.

It had been a long time since I had hunted with my dad. I must admit that in years past I had taken for granted the time my dad spent introducing me to hunting and dog handling. But as I waded the prairie grass this October, and watched my son being introduced to the tradition of hunting so deeply instilled in our family, I felt a sense of appreciation for my dad I had not acknowledged in a long time.