Schwump schwump schwump... My truck's wipers bark in a failed attempt to keep the windshield clear. The mid-October rain is heavy and cold. I am watching a lecture for my graduate program while Rachelle is driving us towards a piece of public land we've nicknamed "The Woodcock Spot". With us are three dogs, including a young spinone, Fiona, who is with us for a month or so for her first try at wild bird hunting.
This location was named after one particularly good day when Rupert, my wirehaired pointing griffon, and I bagged a limit of woodcock in under 30 minutes. From the parking lot the view of the property is blocked by 100 foot tall conifers. If you were to see me, tail gate down, dog standing impatiently, as I secure a bell and GPS collar around a dog's neck, you would probably think I was as green as the trees. There is not a single clue that this piece of land holds birds.
Off of the parking lot is an overgrown foot trail that leads toward the center of the property. Walking down the trail the elevation declines along with the age of the forest. The ground becomes more wet and mushy until it turns into a stream. The stream windingly splits the property in half and provides an ideal spot for migrating woodcock to spend a day or two.
I hunt in ruffed grouse country. Ruffed grouse are notoriously hard birds for a pointing dog to figure out. They run on the ground, hide in the tree tops, flush with the slightest of pressure, and have the uncanny ability to use large trees to block their flight path. Woodcock on the hand offer a respite, especially for an inexperienced dog. They tend to hold, even if a pointing dog pushes in that extra bit. Woodcock are a smaller game bird and on the forest floor they are nearly invisible and they hold because they trust that camouflage.
The rain has slowed to an even pace. As usual, the hunt is started with a mumbled "OK. Hunt 'em up." Followed by the ringing of a bell slowly getting more distant before coming close again. While it is true that woodcock are easier for a dog when compared to ruffed grouse. It is not true that woodcock are easy birds to hunt. They like ground that is mucky and soft. The type of ground where one misstep will have you stuck up to your thigh in mud. Not to mention the disturbed forests with plenty of thick and sharp cover.
We start on the north side of the property working the creek south. The orange on Rachelle's hat comes in and out of view as we walk in parallel. She is on the right, while I am on the left side of the creek. Fiona works between us criss-crossing the creek through invisible openings in the tangled cover. When I can spot her I watch Fiona's body language. I look at the position of her head, the way her body snakes and the tempo of her tail. When out of sight I listen to the bell waiting for abrupt changes in direction or pace.
I notice that Fiona's forward pace has slowed while her side-to-side pace as quickened. Her nose is down and her tail is preparing for take off. Fiona lifts her head and starts moving forward. Rachelle and I take notice and start maneuvering through, around and over cover to get nearer. When Fiona comes back into view she is stopped, on point. A sudden very rapid peep, peep, peep, and the bird comes into view just over the cover. I make a quick shot and the bird falls in between the bramble to the forest floor about 20 yards in front of me.
The excitement of Fiona's first wild bird takes over as I start to congratulate her. I move toward the bird encouraging Fiona to make the retrieve. As I move through the brambles I come to realize that I didn't mark the bird very well. What's worse is that Fiona was in a worse place to mark the bird. It would take an experienced dog to estimate the fall, then search, and ultimately locate the bird. Fiona lacked this experience and we were going to have to help.
Rachelle and I mentally divide the forest into a grid and start walking in concentric circles. Ten minutes pass without any luck and the discussion turns to a question. How successful are upland hunters at recovery of game if they don't have a dog? As we continue to walk in circles it becomes clear that an ethical hunter could easily spend more time looking for fallen birds than birds to flush. All told we circled over 30 minutes before finding the bird and showing Fiona her prize.
"Hey, let's go left at the end of this trail, I don't think I have ever gone back there." I explain to Rachelle. It's the last hunt where Fiona will be joining us and the last day of the Wisconsin woodcock season. This is one of my favorite coveys because I have yet to visit it and at least catch a glimpse of a ruffed grouse. As we work into the forest Fiona is now showing the tell tale signs of a dog with hunting experience. She is staying at a good range checking likely cover and using the wind to her advantage.
As the wind hits my face I notice that Fiona is ranging out past her usual range. I can only catch flashes of her moving through the forest and rely on the bell to tell me were she is at. I can here the bell just within ear shot about 80 yards in front us. When the sound disappears I am unsure if she pushed out further or stopped. As I start to grab for the GPS when it chirps and vibrates indicating a dog on point.
As Rachelle and I approach Fiona we make it within 15 yards when the bird, another woodcock, flushes 10 yards in front of Fiona headed away. By the time I mount my shotgun and fire the right barrel the bird is on the very edge of gun range. I can see the pattern of my shot moving through the thick cover widening as it approaches the bird, at the end, the bird falls.
Given distance, thick cover and rain drops covering my glasses I had no chance of accurately marking this bird. Fiona promptly runs to the bird nearly invisible to the eye and picks it up. We celebrate with Fiona ending her last hunting day and marking the end of woodcock season.
As I reflect on my time spent with Fiona one of the reasons I prefer hunting with dogs becomes clear. I want to be an ethical hunter. So much so that not recovering downed game will ruin my hunt, day, week... It feels so disrespectful that I don't think the Pope himself could clear my conscience. Hunting with a well trained hunting dog provides the game with the best chance of a quick and clean kill. While at the same time assuring the game makes it to my dinner table.