Keep not the mead cup but drink thy measure;
speak needful words or none:
none shall upbraid thee for lack of breeding
if soon thou seek'st thy rest.
Håvamål 19
Wisdom for Wanderers and Counsel to Guests
"Drink ale by the fire, but slide on the ice;
buy a steed when 'tis lanky, a sword when 'tis rusty;
feed thy horse neath a roof, and thy hound in the yard."
Håvamål 82
Maxims for All Men
Rock Hunter
"The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight.
They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor."
Albert Camus
(1913-60)
We are elk hunting. Trouble is there's no elk around to hunt. At least not that we can see, and we aren't blind either. Bud isn't even wearing glasses. It was his idea to come here. Said he'd been in touch with a few local guys he knew, elk hunters all of them who swore by the size of the elks, the size of the herds and whatever else they could think of, I guess, just to impress Bud. Must have worked, whatever it was, 'cause here we are.
Of best laid plans
We had planned to hit the rut and do some calling and stuff. Save us the hill climbing that normally go with the territory. Literally speaking. We are looking right up at some of the highest peaks in the Canadian Rockies.
The weather has stayed warm and kept the animals up high. Can't be helped. They'll come down, maybe even while we are here. We have to book time off way far in advance and it's not like we're going to find a meteorologist with a six month forecast that'll impress us any. Or the elks.
In lieu of cold weather
We do a local weather check and like what we hear. Cold weather coming in. We decide to stay rather than move camp. In the mean time we'll keep looking for deer, this is good country for that. And even better for grouse.
I want to try for those with my new grouse buster arrows. I am stubborn and carry only my bow. Bud is more pragmatic and is rifle hunting this trip. None of us have taken an elk and he wants to get one with his rifle before he will take the time to try his bow.
To each his own, I always say. We get along great. Not that we always agree on everything, we don't. But we seem to be able to move beyond that. We have made quite a few trips together and always have a good time.
The outfit
The camp gear - outfit we call it - has gotten steadily more elaborate over the years. We now have a really comfortable camp with a good-size weather proof enclosure consisting of a few custom made tarps, a wood stove, a kerosene heater for the tent, air mattresses and what have you. Bud has brought his Yamaha ATV as well.
We have set up camp off an old overgrown logging road. The second growth is coming back here with a vengeance, but we still have a spectacular view of the mountains behind us. There is a creek right near and lots of dead dry wood for camp fires and the wood stove.
In the two days we have been here, we haven't seen or heard a soul. We wake up to the sounds of gently rustling leaves and bird chatter. We have noticed a hawk patrolling the valley bottom in a daily pattern. Ravens make their characteristic calls during their unhurried flybys and coyotes yip it up at night. We love it.
Today's mission
This afternoon we are getting ready to just explore a little and look for a couple of suitable deer blinds. Slow down a little, not cover so much ground looking for signs of elk that aren't there. Maybe pot a grouse or two for a proper camp supper.
I am ready for it and have brought the grouse powder, my secret recipe grouse-and-bake. Bud is not much of a cook, I usually take care of all of that. He hasn't got much good to say about it, come to think of it, but he always makes sure I bring the grouse powder.
Heading out
Bud fires up the ATV and I get on the back. Slowly we get up to speed along a logging spur towards a small valley where we have noticed a lot of deer tracks. Our plan is to get a little altitude and search out a likely couple of knolls above the trails to hide out on.
The second growth is thick in places, but we have noticed a slide in there which Bud wants to check out. With his rifle he can cover a lot of ground and wants to maximize his viewable range. So here we are, going up, up, up.
Blending in
The road runs out, but the ATV carries us along a game trail running through an enclosed canopy of deciduous trees. The sun breaks through here and there and makes everything spotty. A perfect camouflage pattern where everything is sort of washed out. We lose contours and contrast every time we look too far ahead of us. But no matter, this is neat stuff.
Little birds hop around in the trees around us. The ATV is surprisingly quiet and we don't seem to be disturbing them too much. We see deer tracks, spot coyote droppings and come across a couple of bear dumps. Both of us carry a pocket full of game calls, we always do, but we can't seem to get excited about coyotes or bears this afternoon. Bud is preoccupied with the deer right now. Me, I'm more in the mood for grouse, truth be known.
The gear out here
I carry my 65 pound Check Mate compound bow slung over my shoulder where it is rapidly accessible. In the bow quiver I have four fiberglass arrows tipped with chisel pointed Fred Bear broad heads with the bleeder inserts. I also carry two wooden shafted grouse busters. The grouse busters are blunts, no broad heads. I buy shafts and make all my own arrows. All arrows are four fletch so that I can nock without looking. And I shoot instinctive with a glove, so no sights or release aids, either.
Grouse busters
I had fun building these particular grouse busters. Shooting grouse can be hard on arrows and like most things these days, arrows aren't exactly getting any cheaper. So in an effort to reduce the financial pain, I worked out an alternative.
The idea is that a grouse is best shot with a heavy blunt-tipped arrow which knocks it out rather than cuts it to pieces like a broad head does. The grouse is so small that I have found broad heads to make too much of mess with stomach content easily getting all over and through the best meat.
Grouse shooting is seldom a long range proposition; either you are close or the bush hides the bird. This means you don't need to build to Swiss watch tolerances for pin point accuracy. So I keep everything simple with wooden shafts, budget nocks, reused plastic fletching, a 38 caliber pistol casing slipped over the arrow tip and a rubber blunt over the casing.
The rubber blunts in the archery store were $1 - 1.25 last time I looked which is way too much for a low budget project. In the hardware store they have a rack full of those doodads you slip over chair legs and such to protect the flooring and whatever. They come in all sizes and those that fit the pistol casings cost fifty cents for a pack of four. Guess what I use.
The fine art of hand spining
Now, wooden shafts are usually compressed Port Orford cedar and come in several grades from economy to ridiculous. The economy shafts are what we want right now and they usually aren't half bad price wise. But we can do better. Here is the deal.
Drop by your favourite well-stocked lumber yard and look for hardwood dowel stock. You want a dealer in bulk stuff. If you find racks with large bales of dowel 3-4 feet long, you got what I mean. You are looking for either of two sizes. For draw weights to about 65 pounds use 5/16". For draw weights over 65, use 3/8".
Now, Port Orford shafts come already spined in 5 pound intervals like 40-45 pounds, 60-65 and so on. Economy shafts are pretty uneven, though, and I have always found that I would have to spine them myself to weed out the worst spaghetti shafts. So you don't get 100 % usable shafts unless you buy over spined ones. For grouse, that's quit all right, but you see how the spining business can get to be very random here, even with factory shafts.
And random is exactly the first name of dowel spines. Whatever else they do to make hardwood dowel stock, spining is not included. Trust me. But there is a way. You hand spine them. Go ahead and take your time, try them all. The yard doesn't care. The other customers sure tend to give you strange looks, though, when they spot you bending and testing piece after piece of dowel stock putting this one back and keeping that one aside. They probably don't even like grouse, so don't pay them no attention.
Spining isn't an exact science, of course, and a bit hard to explain. I was lucky to have someone show me, I guess, but the trick is really quite simple. You will feel the difference instantly the moment you test a soft dowel. So the rule is, keep the stiff ones and leave the soft ones.
The stock is longer than your shafts will be, and you will find that some dowels with soft ends can still be keepers. You will also find that, within reason, you can hand straighten some slightly crooked stock.
The rest of the recipe
Well at home, you cut the shafts to size, taper one end for the plastic nock, varnish or paint the shaft and install the rest of the hardware. Personally, I like dolling up my shafts with cresting and stuff just for fun.
I built a cresting jig from the salvaged motor off a little Brother sewing machine mounted on a short length of two-by-four. A piece of surgical tubing holds the arrow to the motor shaft and a nylon sleeved v-block supports the rest of the arrow. A simple household rheostat or dimming switch easily controls the speed. Works much better than a foot pedal which I can never get to yield a steady speed.
Select a small artist's paint brush and your favourite colours and go to it, but not too fast or the arrow will come loose and make a mess. Just a hint.
My grouse busters are varnished clear with red cresting. Lots of cresting. And red fletching and nocks. With a black blunt and an eight of a silver pistol casing showing, they look great. Splashy colours make them easier to spot in the bush.
These suckers are heavy and carry a good wallop from my heavy bow and are ready to be field tested to the max.
The missing ingredient
I am looking for the missing ingredient, the grouse. I call out softly:
"Yohoo, wakey-wakey!"
Nothing moves, of course. Except Bud who looks at me over his shoulder wondering if I've gone completely off the deep end.
"Hell kind of a game call is that?"
I wave him off. I can tell it's going to be a day with no easy way out. Little do I know about what is to come.
A walk-up
The bush has changed character just ever so slightly and we are coming up on a crest. I tap Bud on the shoulder, point to the crest and make signs to stop. He nods and shuts off the ATV. For a moment we just sit there letting the silence kind of roll right over us. Bud pulls his rifle out of the scabbard and I unshoulder my bow. Slowly we move toward the crest.
Why do I want to stop and do a walk-up? I don't know and can't say. It is just a feeling I have that maybe we are in good game country and should pay attention. Bud does it to me, too, sometimes and often something happens. Often enough to make us almost superstitious. So here we go again.
As we near the crest we slow right down and take a long time to listen between each step forward. There is a slight down draft along the hillside so that our scent shouldn't carry forward to reveal our presence.
We sneak our noggins slowly, slowly forward to peak over the side. Nothing else moves anywhere. We sneak our noggins some more. Still nothing else moves. Eventually we are all the way forward and have to admit that there really are no elk royals, twelve point mulies or monster bears anywhere in sight.
Grouse spotting
We stand up and relax. Bud hunts around for a smoke. We look about and start thinking about where to take the ATV. The trail becomes a little wash here on this side of the crest, no problem getting through it at all.
Then I spot movement 20 yards or so down the wash and out comes a black spruce grouse! Hot diggety, I spotted it first! I whip out a grouse buster, nock it, draw, anchor and rush the release. Oh no! I know the shot is bad right away. And sure enough. The arrow passes right over the grouse which flaps off a couple of feet to the side and looks confused.
Inauspicious moments
I have my other grouse buster ready and let it fly. Missing again! I don't believe it. I curse myself for not bringing more grouse busters. The bird is still there and I can't stand it. I pull out another arrow, this one with a broad head. I want my dinner. Dinner just stands there wondering what on earth is going on around here as my third arrow flies by. The noise of it hitting the gravel scares the grouse back towards the middle of the wash again.
Feather bedder
Bud is laughing and coughing smoke and ribbing me mercilessly. Asks if he should bag it for me. Sure, sure. Whatever for. Bud is carrying his 7 mm. Remington magnum loaded 2 grains over maximum with a Nosler partition bullet. Won't be much left of the grouse after one of those. We know, he tried it once. We saw only a cloud of feathers. If I'd had a pillowcase I could have filled it by simply holding it out in the air.
Always wondered what happened to the rest of that bird. Probably entered the secret dimension or something. Like they say; the truth is out there. Look for it next to a naked grouse.
Meanwhile, my dinner is clearly getting restless and making definite signs to quit the country. I close my eyes and decide to sacrifice a fourth arrow. Opening my eyes I perform the by now familiar ritual and miss again. This is it! No more wasting arrows!
A novel approach
Bud is having a fit. He picks up a rock, heaves it to me. Use this, he gasps and wipes his eyes. Guaranteed to work, trust me. Just look at the cross section compared to your arrows!
Disgustedly I pick it up and hurl it in the direction of the bird. And hit it squarely, bowling it over and knocking it out flat. Bud and I look at each other in astonishment. What do you know.
I scamper down and grab dinner, finish it off, remove all the feathers and put it in my coat pocket. Bud is running off at the mouth amusing himself at my expense. Eventually, I see the humour in this, too, but I do need just a little time on this. I look around for any of the arrows. But no, can't find even a trace of them. This sure became one expensive grouse dinner. Ouch.
We get moving again, find a couple of likely spots and have an enjoyable evening in the deer blinds, even though we don't see any big game.
Dinner at last
Later on back in camp, I break out the grouse powder, fixin's and frying pan, cook some rice and we have us quite a meal.
More the merrier
Returning to camp for lunch the next day we find a couple of friends have arrived. Bud immediately gets on about the grouse so now I have three people on my case. This will take time to live down, I can tell.
The rest of the hunt goes well even though the weather continues to stay warm and we never see any elk. So much for the weather forecast. One of the guys bags a really nice muley buck with his .270 Winchester and another goes home with a fat little butter ball of a black bear. Bagged it with a .375 Holland & Holland magnum. Just a tad over gunned, if you ask me. He didn't, of course, but I told him anyway. Best bear meat we ever had, though. This little guy had clearly been in berries all summer and fall and the taste sure came through. Very, very nice indeed.
A grand finale
Other than that, I think they spent almost as much time hunting suitable grouse rocks for me as they did looking for big game. So just to spite them, I bagged the next one cleanly with one shot and retrieved the arrow to boot. Trouble was, I was alone. Nobody believed me. I swear though, truly, no rocks this time. Would I lie?
