My first hunting trip...

While this was indeed my first hunting trip, it was not a hunting trip in the classical sense. At least I don't think so...

Late one night last week, my wife and I were lying in bed talking. She, while resigned to the fact that I want to go try hunting, is not totally keen on the endeavour. However, that night I got to talking about food and the fact that since I have my hunting number and license for the year, I am legally allowed to go hunt for upland game birds. She paused, and asked a bit more about if I was prepared to do everything that was required to gut, clean and bring the bird home. I said that I was pretty sure that I was. After a little more discussion, I decided that I would head off early the next morning to go try grouse hunting and be back before noon.

I had trouble sleeping that night and a number of times I got up and went to the computer to look into the process of hunting, gutting and cleaning grouse. There is quite a bit of information out there on the web and while I didn't have the right firearm (I was going hunting with a .22), nor did I exactly know where I was going to go (I have never been hunting for anything before, let alone grouse), I still decided that I would give it a go to see what would happen.

I awoke very early and was out the door by 5:45am. I ride a dual sport motorbike and I knew it was going to be quite cold, so I put on a balaclava to protect my neck and bundled up under my motorbike jacket. I filled up the gas tank, and headed out on the highway headed north.

It was freezing!

My hands were like clubs as I topped a hill just past Fury Creek and pulled over at the entry to a logging road. As I was hopping around in the early morning light to warm up I heard a rumbling behind me, coming from up the logging road. Although it was Sunday, a logging truck came lurching down the road and stopped just past the gate to check his load. We got to talking and he asked me what I was up to. Now, it is pretty obvious that I am up to something as I have to strap my rifle over my shoulder in a travel bag on the motorbike. He wondered if I was fishing or hunting. I told him I was looking for grouse but that I didn't really know what I was doing. He said he loved grouse but that the pickings were pretty slim this time of year as the season had already been open for a month. Those grouse that weren’t dead were going to be pretty gun shy. He gave me a few pointers on where to look. I thanked him, got on my bike, and headed north.

The early morning sun was striking the peaks around me - lighting them up that wonderful alpine pink colour. With the fresh snow of the day before it had a Himalayan feel. I turned up a logging road about 20km past Fury Creek and started my hunt.

Now, my plan was to go reasonably slow on my motorbike, hoping to startle a grouse that would then fly up into a tree. I would then get off my bike, load my rifle, aim at the bird's head, and hopefully hit it. I thought this a reasonable plan as many times before while riding my motorbike along logging roads I had startled grouse who had scattered in an explosion of flapping to the nearest tree. However, I was to find that I would not be seeing any grouse along the road that day.

I did see a number of other birds, however. The first birds that I saw were red-breasted nuthatches. I only know that, as while one got scared by my bike, he flew right beside my head for a few moments before pealing off into the bush. I got a good look at him and identified him when I got home.

After the 15 mile mark along the logging road I found a reasonably sunny spot. The coniferous trees in this area had been logged out and were in the process of coming back, but there were quite a few deciduous trees that were mixed in as well. I got off my bike, loaded the .22, put on my blaze orange toque, and headed up a deactivated logging road.

It was quite the experience. I walked slowly and cautiously. My senses were very alert, but I couldn't help but see some humour in my situation. It felt a bit like I was pretending to be a hunter as opposed to the real deal. My intention was to shoot a grouse if I could find one (and get a good shot at it). I saw a number of other animals that day - but no grouse. What I did see in great numbers were mushrooms; all different types, colours and sizes. I guess the fresh rains had brought them out of the mottled forest floor and the conditions must have been very good. I don't know much about mushrooms, but I picked a few that I thought might be chantrelles to identify when I got home.

By 9:30am I had decided to turn around and make my way back to my bike. By 11:15am I was back at home.

Reflecting upon the day I had to admit that I really enjoyed myself. It didn't matter that I was unsuccessful in the hunt. I enjoyed the walk, I enjoyed spending time by myself, and I enjoyed the heightened awareness of trying to take everything in around me; all sights, sounds, smells and even tastes in the air.

I plan on learning more about edible mushrooms and plants so that regardless of whether I find my intended quarry for the day, I will always be able to return home with something. I look forward to my 'real' hunting trip that is to happen in a few days time. But, I also look forward to more excursions by myself into the outdoors.

BB