When the dog days of autumn are perfect for wingshooting

NIKISKI — The morning presented near-perfect grouse hunting conditions. A light frost had the birds moving, with just enough moisture in the air to hold the scent critical for success with the gun dog. Clear skies and a slight morning breeze added to the day's potential.

While I was parking the truck, Winchester, the patriarch of our English setter family, started shaking and whining as he always does when he knows he is up. When set loose from the backseat, he will usually stay close to the truck, run around sniffing the air and, of course, lifting his leg on everything in sight, while I get my game vest on and the shotgun uncased.

This time instead of staying close, he was off like a shot, the bell around his collar breaking the silence. Listening while preparing to follow, the bell went silent, followed by the vibration of the GPS collar controller, announcing he was on point. Smiling to myself I thought, "It's going to be a great day."

Dropping two 28-gauge shells into the breech of the over/under shotgun, I headed into the cover. Even after all these years, my heart was pounding.

Several minutes into the cover, I spotted Winchester's tail in the high grass where his nose directed me to an opening near the base of a young spruce. Passing him to his right the bird held tight until I nearly stepped on him. The mature male spruce grouse flushed hard to my right, the swing of the shotgun felt right as I pressed the trigger … and ravaged the foliage of the alders behind where the bird had just been.

Well, I thought, "Maybe it's going to be one of those days."

Undaunted, Winchester resumed hunting, always forgiving of his partner's shortcomings.

A quarter-mile farther into the cover, a mixture of spruce and aspen with tall grass and blueberries and cranberries covering the forest floor, Winchester was back on point.

A small clump of medium-sized spruce held his attention. Moving up behind and to his left, there was one bird visible on a branch maybe 10 feet off the ground but Winchester's stare locked on the low bushes in front of the spruce clump. Three grouse broke from the low cover on my approach, breaking left, two of them presented perfect crossing shots — and dinner for two was shortly in the back of the game vest.

Spruce grouse populations strong

For many if not most Alaskans, grouse hunting consists of cruising gravel roads, pipeline and powerline easements and old fire breaks for birds that come to these places to eat the gravel that assists their digestion of roughage.

Most are shot with .22 rimfire rifles, and there is probably no surer way to go out quickly and get supper in most of Southcentral and Interior Alaska.

There are good populations of spruce grouse throughout this area and even in years when numbers are down, there are still plenty of birds. Ruffed and sharp-tailed grouse are less widespread but are plentiful throughout the Tok, Fairbanks, Delta, and Nenana regions. The good news is that recent breeding and brood survey work and hunter-supplied harvest data collected by the Alaska Department of Fish and Game indicates a general upturn in upland bird populations throughout Alaska.

By mid-morning, the sun had warmed the day to the pleasant shirtsleeve weather that caps off these days afield.  Winchester was on fire, running the country with abandon and finding birds wherever he went. We usually limit our take of birds to six, preferring to eat them fresh without ever freezing them. Six birds provide three meals for two of us, and we alternate with other meals for a few days until they are gone.

But on this day, when six birds were in the bag (not saying how many empty shot shells were in my pocket), it was just too good to stop.  Winchester agreed to one more point before we called it a day.

Bird hunting lost in shuffle

Following Winchester that morning reminded me of a conversation that took place at the dog-friendly trap range that was a second home to our pups in the offseason.

Winchester was 9 weeks old, romping around, and everyone was fussing over him as English setters are a bit unusual in these parts.

One of the old trap shooters said, "Kind of a shame to have a real bird dog in a place where there aren't birds."

It was an odd but common sentiment for a place that allows for nine months of bird hunting, six readily available species of upland game birds, astonishingly large limits and some of the best eating available.

It seems big game hunting is so popular in Alaska that bird hunting gets lost in the shuffle. That's a shame.

Winchester's last point came on the edge of a wide-open area with berries mixed with tall grass — the perfect setup for wingshooting. OK, I thought to myself as I walked past Winchester, "Don't mess this up," as the covey of five birds flushed.

Dropping the hard-right flusher first, the swing back to take the last bird on the going away shot was perfect.  For the first time that day, Winchester looked up and nodded his approval.

Steve Meyer of Soldotna is lifetime Alaskan and an avid shooter. His column about hunting and guns appears every other week. Contact Steve at oldduckhunter@outlook.com