Hutsinpilar, Upland Killer

By Dottie Herring

Our Subaru Outback glides into a pullover spot on Rock Creek Road and my family and I clamber out with enthusiasm. The sunscreen, water, and snacks are dropped in the spacious backpack and soon we are ready to go. The last thing to enter the backpack is the 22, for it is the first day of grouse season and we wanted to try our luck on an old forest service trail. The river is bracingly cold as it eddies and swirls around our feet. I think about all the trout and whitefish that are frantically swimming away from our invading shoes. As soon as our feet hit the shore, Pine Squirrels start to squeak and chirp at us before continuing to cache their pine cones like avaricious dragons. As I trudge over logs, my feet crunch grass and send the minuscule grasshoppers hurtling in the air. While I take in my sweltering surroundings, I notice a battered trail sign clinging to the trunk of a Pinus ponderosa. I turn my attention away and focus on wrestling my sopping feet out of my river shoes. Once they are finally off, I put on socks and my light pink pair of hiking shoes. Papa led the way, bushwhacking through thistles and climbing over logs. After a couple of minutes trying to find the trail we begin to switch back through the grueling heat. Blue Oregon grapes are scattered throughout the dense undergrowth and I pick one just so I can squeeze its sour purple juice onto my finger. We continue stopping for water and soon reach a baking hot talus field. Suddenly, Papa stops and says “look!” At first I was surprised, for I thought he meant he found the trail but why stop? And then I saw the two gray splotches of feathers that were scurrying up the slope. Papa and I walked ahead to try and get a better shot, but the grouse kept on jogging up the talus field. I began to wonder if they were on a trail, perhaps the trail! I reluctantly let the sweltering heat enveloped me as we emerged onto a short grassy stretch. The dry grass and pokey snowberry bushes scrape my unprotected ankles, but soon we stop for water and a snack. We stopped on a game trail overlooking the valley where you could see the river, road, and even the car! Mom pulls out a Snickers bar and splits it between the four of us. The caramel inside practically melts in my mouth and I savor every bit of it. Soon, a shallow depression in the ground that could be a trail begins to lead us up the mountain. All of a sudden Papa stops and waves for me to come up next to him. “They are right there!” he says. And so they were.

I silently watched Papa load up the 22 and take aim. Bang! One of the grouse falls and begins, half-dead, to flop down the mountain. I try to chase after it, but it just keeps going farther down, so I turn back towards Papa who hit the other grouse and is now trying to figure out where it went. We went down the mountain in hopes of finding the first grouse but it seemed to have vanished. Behind me, Papa says he sees it but I am clueless. He is pointing to a pointy lump on the ground, but it is obviously a stump, so I tell him that. I look into a snowberry and jump back, for there is a beady amber eye staring back at me. Papa is going to hit it with a limb, and I duck behind a stump, not wanting to watch. As I close my eyes and ears, the grouse comes barreling past my hiding spot, followed by cries of “grab it!”. I lunge out and am immediately pummeled by the grouse’s strong wings. I worried that the grouse might break a foot in its frantic struggles, but soon it was still. “ I think that might have officially been the most traumatic experience of my life!” I anxiously told Papa.

I must tell you, I was not looking forward to the hike down the mountain. We found a solid trail that wound down the mountain, but guess what happened! About every 5 minutes we would lose the trail and – to my annoyance – end up somewhere completely different. I am astounded that there were grouse on the top of the mountain but I was also very thankful they were there. At this point we had ended where our river shoes were and quickly put them on. I gasped in relief when we waded through the river and immediately set the grouse down on an island and jumped in. Cooled off and overjoyed, my family and I happily headed back to the cabin to clean the grouse. I didn’t watch the process – I was busy catching water skippers – but by the end we had four beautiful grouse breasts. The end result at dinner was spectacular and totally worth the heated hike. There were many factors that helped me reach the top and I think that believing in myself and knowing I can do hard things are some of them.