Ruffed Grouse & Lemon Pie
A day with Dad at the old Garrett place.
By Bill Trevillian
This autumn morning my father and I were going to hunt the old Garrett place, which he had recently purchased, near Free Union, Virginia. Although my Dad was not much of a hunter, he was excited to go, and Mac, my pointer bird dog, was excited at the prospects of finding a covey or two of quail. I personally was a bit concerned that once I put Mac down on his first cast I might never see him again. The Garrett place was deeply overgrown with honeysuckle and crossed by strong creeks, with only a few sparse acres of lespedeza, Mr.
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