Blues in the Reefs

An opening day climb for blue grouse

1 glanced to the east, but my headlights were still the only light, and I wondered again about being out so early. I checked the speedometer and looked at the white square of the upland bird regs pinched between the dash and my coffee cup. I’d read them over yet again while I’d waited for the tank to fill. The daily limits allowed 15 doves, though I couldn’t remember ever having seen more than two in the same day. The regs also allowed eight partridge and five grouse. And though the old man and I had gone entire seasons without bouncing a covey of partridge, and my record low for grouse was two, both taken with a rifle, I knew those were within the realm of possibility—the bright possibilities always aglow before the season’s first light. I took a sip of coffee. Eight Huns, five grouse. Opening day. It could happen.
    I kept checking my speed, easing off the gas again and again.
    I laughed a little and rolled the window the rest of the way down. Labor Day weekend, five-thirty in the morning, already 75 degrees, on its way to a hundred. I told myself again that the temperature was the only reason I was out so early. It wasn’t the opener, I thought, it was the heat. I wanted to get the walking done before it became ridiculous. The old man would’ve laughed himself sick if... Read More »

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