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UP Grouse & WC Remediation PE

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So evidently, word of my WI grouse-herding expertise with my F150 went viral, spreading across the interweb like cold molasses.

It didn’t take long and I was summoned to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula by Jameson, the owner/proprietor of @Breakfast Boy's Luxury Inn and Beach Resort to ply my trade on his resident feathered vermin.


Resort grounds:



Multiple weather sources all forecast sunny skies with lows in the 40’s and highs in the 60’s for the entire week.

God laughed at that, and sent rain starting at the Michigan border and it continued for much of the trip. Jamie set up camp as an inch of rain was falling, and had the stove glowing when I got there.

The Welcome Mat was NOT out, due to past injuries he’d sustained on such things at my house, so I brought my own just for him.


The Proprietor checking the radar with help from Fletcher:



I’ll admit to being just a bit disappointed with the resort...

For someone who goes by BreakfastBoy on UJ, I was somewhat expecting chicken fried steak and eggs, biscuits and gravy, or even grouse sausage with woodcock pate’ with hollandaise sauce with a side of avocado toast (I hear famous grouse hunters eat that).

However, the pop tarts and coffee did the trick just as well.


I know it’s supposed to be better hunting when the leaves are down, but the trees were absolutely gorgeous:




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Once we convinced Piper to look for birds in the woods, not pheasants in the tall grass, and Fletcher decided there were no ducks in the puddles, the hunt was on.



I’ve read you folks talking about “a walk” or “a stroll” thru the grouse woods. This was no walk or stroll. Slithering, crawling or even swimming might have been better verbs. At times I felt like a new recruit at basic training trying to crawl under barbed wire in the mud. And trying to get a shot thru prison bars while on one foot falling backwards – this ain’t just another pheasant hunt!


Note the dripping sasquatch: The Pyke Northcuts turned away all prickly things, but succumbed to the baptism of the swamp. While they were not waterproof, they were always dry by the next covert we arrived at. The shirt and the rest of me, not so much😕.



Once Piper figured out what we were after, we got some points.





We moved a lot more birds than I was expecting, including a HUUUGE woodcock that was the size of a seagull! The dogs held up their end of the bargain better than the two of us.

Both Jamie and I are big on game preservation, and practice catch-and-release hunting when possible. With the exception of one directionally-challenged grouse who inadvertently flew into a random shot string, no other birds were harmed.









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Birds were moved

Shots were fired

Dogs were happy

Libations were consumed

Lies were told

A good time was had by all (other than one grouse)








All thanks to relationships made as a result of Brad’s Online Home for Mis-Spent Youth



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I'm heading that way tomorrow. Hopefully the weather gets better...

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Nice write up & pictures. 

I practice shoot and release too, let ‘em go let’em grow

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Looks like a great time had by all.

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Looks like your bird dog may have just licked that bottle of Bird Dog 😁

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Cooter Brown

That's a good old fashioned Upland Journal PE right there.  Excellent!

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Bert in W N.C.

Thank you for sharing the journey.

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Very nice, thanks for taking us along 

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