Hunting Rifles Reviews > Rifle Brands

With acorns and apples dropping all around one of my tree stands I had been planning on spending the entire day perched in a tall sugar maple. The last time I went into that stand I busted a pair of does feeding under a big oak tree in the middle of the day. But when Mike called and started talking about heading out to spend a few hours hunting for ruffed grouse around some grown up farm fields, I quickly changed my mind.

“Every time I skirt around those fields to get into my tree stand lately, I kick up a couple grouse. It startles the heck out of me so it’s got to alert any deer in the area,” he said. “I’ve got a feeling we just might be able to get a bead on one if we drop just inside the woods and poke along the edge of those big fields… There’s a ton of apples and grapes in there and those partridge are all through there.”

I admitted that I hadn’t picked up my shotgun in a while, so Mike suggested that we head down behind his house and set up the clay target thrower and see if we could break a few targets before we headed out.

“Give me an hour to set up the reloader and run off a bunch of skeet shot,” he said. “Then I should be ready when you get here.”

I put my bow hunting gear back in the closet and dug out my bird vest, a fresh box of number sixes and my favorite twelve gauge and loaded them in the truck. Then I changed clothes and headed out.

When I arrived, Mike had the clay target thrower on the deck along with his shotgun case, and before I could even climb from the truck he was out the door.

“I haven’t fired my shotgun in a while either,” he confessed as he handed me a box of freshly loaded skeet shells. “What do you say we go see if a couple old blind men can swing a shotgun fast enough to break some clays?”

It didn’t take long to set up the thrower and load it with targets. Then just as I was about to suggest that he shoot first, he beat me to the punch and told me to load my gun.

“Ohhh sure you want to laugh at me first,” I replied with a chuckle as I dropped four shells into my 1187.

Then with my buddy operating the thrower, I stepped up and shouldered my shotgun.

“Pull!” I yelled.

Seconds later a bright orange clay target shot into the air angling away to my left. I swung through the target and instinctively squeezed the trigger. The target didn’t disappear into dust, however, it broke into several pieces.

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“You go that one,” Mike hollered as he clapped his hands. “Try a few more.”

I shot at about a dozen targets and hit all but one. Mike tried his luck and managed to knock down every one that he fired at.

“Looks like we’re ready,” he replied with a grin. “Now let’s go see if we can bag a grouse… My wife said she’s ready to make partridge pie for supper.”

We carried the thrower into Mike’s garage and loaded our shotguns in their cases and put them in the truck and made the near hour long drive to the old farm. All the way, my buddy talked optimistically about our chances of bagging a couple birds.

“You wait until you see all the grouse that are in here,” he said as we loaded our guns and stepped into the woods.

We both made certain to wear blaze orange vests and baseball caps for safety and when we got close to the spot Mike wanted to begin hunting, he motioned for me to head towards the edge of the field. He continued parallel to me about 50 yards away, well within site.

I walked past a number of old apple trees and I was amazed by the amount of green apples I saw on the ground. There were grape vines everywhere as well. Then when I got close to the end of the first field, a grouse shot up from under some pine trees right in front of me.

I shouldered my shotgun, but that bird was moving so fast I think he was in the next zip code before I ever picked him up. I just shook my head as I listened to my buddy laughing nearby.

It was the only bird I raised my gun on that day. However, Mike had a good opportunity as he jumped one from under one of those apple trees about an hour later. I watched as he swung onto the bird and fired. I didn’t see it fall, however, when I saw him look at me and pump his fist, I knew he’d dropped it.

“That’s how you do it,” he yelled. “But I’ve got to confess that shot was a whole lot easier than the one you had. The wife’s gonna be happy, we’ve got grouse so she can make her famous partridge pie!”

Later in the afternoon, Mike had another opportunity. We’d just crossed a grown over bar way and had began to inch our way through some tall grass around some apple trees when another bird shot from the ground in a thunderous explosion. As it twisted and turned through the trees, Mike fired twice at it, but didn’t connect. I watched him shake his head and laugh.

“That’s what makes it so exciting,” I said.

“It sure happens quick,” he added.

Source: Citizen.com

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