I should have known better.
As usual, I didn’t.
Grouse in Idaho opened two days ago, so we decided on our initial attack today. Today’s high is supposed to be 96. It’s been hot, and smoke from a new fire near Cascade has choked our valley thickly after a brief teaser of a few clear days. The hills are parched and the trails talcum. Visibility is solely conceptual. But we left early, undeterred and — speaking only for myself — brain dead.
This is the time of year I never seem to remember much. My excitement to get out with the dogs and the gun always seems to occlude the simple memory of years of early September disappointment of getting out with the dogs and the gun.
We walked for a while on an old road that was supposed to be closed, but which vehicles had simply gone around the locked gate; onX and the USFS map show these places as non-motorized but in reality it’s a crap shoot if people comply. ‘Merica.
After a bit, the dogs reached Pole Creek and we heard the first grouse bust of the day. My heart quickened. When we reached the tiny creek, we saw the typical nuclear winter of cattle. See the video. Or don’t. You’ve seen it before, I’m sure.
The dogs busted a few more grouse but my heart had left the station.
Remind me next year to read this post before I go grouse hunting again.
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