MAINELY OUTDOORS
by Bill Graves
“I just arrived in town, let’s hunt something” intoned the excited voice on the phone line. Arriving at his mother-in-law’s house about suppertime, my cousin Mike Wallace of Brunswick was ready to go. I suggested heading into “The Big Woods” for partridge the next afternoon since my morning was committed, and set a time to meet.
By 1 p.m., we were filling out paperwork at Six-Mile Gate and a few minutes later Mike was scanning the road edges and brush-lined banks for birds.
For the third day of partridge season, traffic was surprisingly light on the Pinkham Road, and we never met another vehicle on the three birdy-looking side roads we drove.
Our outing, later to be laughingly referred to as a “shake down hunt”, to help cover the litany of errors and misjudgments was interesting to say the least. Game animals of every size and shape proved plentiful, the autumn scenery was breathtaking, and the oversights by your’s truly and my gunning buddy were certainly humbling. A wildlife memo must have been issued to all feather and fur bearers because little stand and stare patience was exhibited!
The first grouse ambled into the tire track bold as you please about 50 yards in front of the truck and stopped to peck gravel. I stopped, Mike opened the door and someone must have fired a starter pistol because the bird dropped its head and performed a flat out sprint into the bushes never to be seen or heard from again.
About 10 minutes later a medium-sized bull moose crossed the road about 40 yards in front of the vehicle. Almost a blur, Bullwinkle was also entered in the 100-yard dash for woodland wanderers. I’m pretty sure our slowly moving, quiet truck didn’t spook him, but whatever did, I’ve no doubt the moose would have broadsided us at full speed if we’d been a few yards ahead.
Much to my surprise our second partridge spotted was very patient. Mike got out, loaded a shell and stepped around the door to take aim.”Shouldn’t you move closer,” I asked. “No, this is plenty close for a 12 gauge”, came the reply. “It seems long, are you su- – -?” Boom, and then the bird flew away.
Conversation on the missed shot was limited, although later after I’d also suffered an embarrassing miss, Mike mentioned a full choke might have been better than the modified one in the gun. Awhile later, we stopped to watch an immature bald eagle feast on a road-killed raccoon. I took photos after it flew into a nearby fir tree.
When the next partridge appeared I got to be part of this on the road comedy act. Stepping out of the truck I dropped a shell into the bottom chamber of my over-under .22/20 gauge. Taking careful aim I squeezed the trigger on tomorrow’s lunch special only to hear “click” rather than “Boom”.
I quickly lowered and broke open the gun thinking it had a dud shell. There wasn’t even a dent in the primer! I dug for another shot shell but when I looked up the grouse was gone; Mike told me it flew the second I looked down to see what was wrong with the gun. Much to my chagrin the shotgun was fine, I’d just forgotten to switch the hammer selector lever to the shotgun barrel!
Mike and I were certainly doing our part to leave seed birds for next year’s mating season. Later we saw another large bull moose, and it entertained us for several minutes by refusing to leave the tote road. It would run a couple of hundred yards, then stop and wait for us to drive closer, and run off again. I’ll bet we played “catch me if you can” for over half a mile before our heavily antlered buddy finally veered into the woods.
We sighted half a dozen more partridge throughout the afternoon, but they remained a bit skittish and we bagged only three. While driving out, a crotch-horn buck and a doe fed along an open slash area beside the road. We all watched each other for a few minutes before they lost interest and bounded leisurely away.
All in all it was an entertaining outing. No flat tires or mechanical problems, a few laughs—mostly at ourselves, and the main ingredient to a delicious partridge stew. There are plenty of partridge this fall and sightings will only improve as the foliage lessens, so get out often. Here’s hoping your “shake down” trip offers as many memories as mine.
