“How ya fellas doing?” bellowed the driver from the window of his old gray pickup. “You the fellas that hunt up here for birds every year?”
“Well I do get up here every year,” I replied. But Poor Road had only as recent as last year come under my scrutiny for potential hot spots to scout.
“Dang birds are all over, must breed like rabbits with all that racket they make, banging away all the time. They’re pretty dumb birds unless I suppose you are huntin’ um. We sorta pick-um off the side of the road with a riffle. Hehehe! Lots easier.” After a bit more small talk about the rains I asked him his name and he replied, “Tim. Got the second camp up on Poor Road. Been working on it for years….don’t know as I’ll ever get ‘er done.” My partner Kevin and I introduced ourselves and stated we were from Batavia, NY. “Hell I know Batavia, nother fella from there got a camp up here. Jim something or other.”
Kev recognized the name, but my mind was still on those pesky birds that annoyed Tim with their insistent drumming. I sure wanted to help out the locals by quieting the neighborhood a bit.
“Hey Tim, just where ya hearing most of that racket them birds are making?” I asked.
“Hell, it’s all over round my place and over yonder the next road up!” We spoke a bit more of the rain and the weather in general, deer and coyotes and bid each other good day and good hunting and in the end secured an invite over to his place for a beer or three sometime. Kev was in no hurry to traverse that nasty road again so we continued to our next likely covert, but from that point forward Poor Road was forever etched in my mind as a future land of promise.
The rains kept us confined to the heated seats of the big black Suburban, but seemed to lighten about the time we hit Parker Road. Constant checks of the weather proclaimed a 100% chance of rain for the following day, so we decided we should hunt as much as we could this day for the morrow was surely a washout. There would be no leisurely nap this afternoon, so on we trudged.
Parker Road had seemed to call to Kev and when we hit the area where we had taken the first bird, we decided to work it parallel to the truck trail. Our Doggie Dream Team by now had had plenty of grouse scent in their nose, and flushed three birds after about a mile of hard pushing. Whooped and damp once again, we reached the heated throne of our transportation and I vowed I was done for the day. But a 30 minute rest along with the imminent threat of rain for tomorrow had Kev’s mind driving hard. I said it was going to take a lot to get me out of that truck…but if you want to go take a look at that trail along those pines on Poor Road, I might have one more push in me. Due to the condition of the road it was much to my surprise he jumped at the suggestion and off we went.