An Outdoorsman’s view on the River

I began my week by roasting two game birds. Digging around my freezer I found a grouse and pheasant from last season. While the birds thawed I contemplated what method I should use to prepare them for diner. I like to roast my grouse but often use other options with pheasant. I have only found one recipe where the pheasant remains moist and that requires more effort than I was willing to put into it. I set both birds into a glass pan and filled them each with fresh sliced apple, some pepper and a slice of bacon on the breast. To add some moisture to the pheasant I sliced the breast in three spots and added a few pats of butter. The birds roasted in a slow oven for an hour. That gave me time to prepare two sides; Golden mashed potatoes and a butternut squash.

The butter in the pheasant surely added a nice flavor and much needed moisture. I enjoyed both birds. There was even enough of the grouse left over for a cold sandwich later in the week. I leaned back after diner and proceeded to lay out a plan for the week ahead. Those birds didn’t come from any grocery store. The only way they get into my freezer is by search and seize. That requires the talents of my Britt Zoey and my questionable shooting skills. The pup does all of the hard work and I am in charge of excuses when my aim is less than stellar.

I had some appointments early in the week, but by Wednesday afternoon I had some free time. My pup and I headed over to the fields of Perch River. It is always hard to decide on the right place to start. Some days I can walk for hours behind Zippy and never see a bird. This was not one of those days. In less than ten minutes a rooster flushed wild in front of me. Zip was a ways off with her bell tinkling in the opposite direction. I lead the rooster and he promptly fell into a thicket of briers. I was lightly dressed for the day, in a chamois cloth shirt and canvas pants. My pants are only four years old and are already in need of replacement. They are almost worn through from following Zip into dense cover. Its usually cover that she can freely glide through. I on the other hand am either on my hands and knees, crawling or climbing over the top.

Fighting my way to the bird I heard the bell of my companion getting nearer. She slowed down fifteen feet in front of me and sat down. She had both front paws on the motionless bird. It always amazes me how she uses her senses. Her eyesight is not the best but she makes up for it with her ears and keen sense of smell. Zip allowed me to pick up her bird and gazed at it as I stuffed it into the game bag. She promptly turned and got back to the business of finding more birds. I heard three woodcock flush but only saw one. It flew past me and I took a quick shot. The bird went around some brush out of sight. Zip came over to investigate the situation and her tiny tail began to twirl. The bird had landed and took a long walk out of harms way.

The next rooster that flushed was closely followed by the tinkling bell. The long tailed rooster added his bright colors to a blue sky, as he rose above the timber. He was too far to take a poke at with my twenty gauge. I watched with admiration as he took a long flight far away from me and the pup. Zoey took the lead and lead me into some God awful willow saplings. I was surrounded by them. My pace slowed considerably as I tangled with them. There were old dead, dried, rooted sticks above my knees that were cantankerous. I stumbled along as Zip ran in and out under my legs full of joy! Eventually I broke away from that jungle into a relatively open area. This was a spot where I have had success before. A drainage ditch lie ahead and it is full of water. It is over head high, I know. If we had birds running ahead of us they could not go any further without flushing.

The third rooster came out of a stand of red osier and flew straight away. He had flushed wild at the sound of me enormous feet crashing along. The first shot went past him but the second one connected. He dropped and an immediate splash occurred. I could see the water rise but could not see over chest high grass. I felt stupid for taking the shot. I did the same thing a year ago. That incident required me walking back a mile to my truck and driving to the other side of the ditch. Zoey found me that bird as it hid under a cut in the bank of the ditch, an hour later. In this instance I could not tell if this pheasant had made it to the other side. I expected to see it in the water and there was not a ripple to go by. I strained to see any movement and there was none. Zip came along and on a lark I sent her out to the edge of the grass just into the water. She stopped tilted her head and dove into a grass patch. The rooster came running out with her in hot pursuit. Both had water flying under their feet! Zippy concluded that chase with her feet on another harvested rooster.

Saturday I reluctantly collected the remaining garden goodies. I picked 117 ripe red raspberries, a few green peppers and the last two tomatoes (for the season). Four huge beets were roasted in the oven while I simmered a pot of collards and in another pot, Swiss chard. While I spend time in the kitchen I watch for freighters. There have been many this fall and it is not unusual for me to see several traveling in each direction. I envy the sailors on those ships and the sights they must see. They get to see the whole seaway and the great lakes too. I’m content and happy to be on this small piece of the river. I have all of the wonderful adventure that I am privileged to enjoy, both on and off the river.

Mike LaDue, Monday, November 03, 2014