ETCHED IN THE LANDSCAPE
Yesterday, my friend, John Anderson, and I went out to a favorite covert, Grouse Springs, to run our dogs before the start of our hunting season, which is only a few weeks away. After years of tagging along with Rainey and I grouse hunting, John finally has own birddog, a German Shorthair named “Una.” Before the summer sun chased us off, we found a total of 13 ruffed grouse and 2 blue grouse, which suggests the upcoming hunting season should be good.
John and the dogs descend into Grouse Alley, a particularly productive ruffed grouse covert. The year 2024 will mark 20 years of hunting this covert with my bird dogs. Sunny Girl, Dusty, Misty, Brandy, and now, Rainey, and Aki all cut their teeth on grouse in these woods. After twenty years, every time I traverse this covert, hundreds of memories of my dogs come flooding back as I remember the triumphs and the mishaps we shared there. For that reason alone, this covert is sacred to me. I know almost every inch of this ground intimately. To say that my coverts are of great importance to me is an understatement. They are an essential part of who I am, my past, and my future.
Rainey and Aki are the latest duo of dogs that have traversed this covert with me over the years. We have so much fun together.
The main spring has been piped into this guzzler and the dogs often use it to cool off. During our hike in Grouse Springs yesterday, I came upon something I do not remember. In the big grove of old quakies to the right of the springs, I found carved in a tree, clear as could be: “AW + KW.” Seeing that stopped me in my tracks. At first, I questioned: Who did this? I like to think my momma didn’t raise no dummy and I quickly deduced that yours truly is the culprit because that is mine and my wife’s initials. I must have written that many, many years ago when I was hunting up in Grouse Springs by myself, but I don’t recall carving that into the tree. Over the years, I have passed that spot dozens of times, but I must have overlooked it and the memory escaped me. Growing old will do that to you.
Etched in bark for all the world to see. Of course, my mind reeled wondering when specifically did I do this?. Was it during those first years when I experienced a blizzard on my wife’s birthday in September and wondered whether I would make it home in time to make her a cake? Maybe this was my penance for going hunting when I should have been spending time with her. Maybe it was after that time Sunny Girl pointed a grouse nearby that ran along the downed tree in front of her and I made the shot. That is certainly a cherished memory. For the life of me, I could not remember.
The engraving instantly reminded me of a painting owned by my dad with a rocky mountain peak in the background and a quaking aspen in the forefront carved with “KW + CW,” which are the initials of my parents. My dad was a doctor and often treated patients who could not afford to pay for his services. A patient offered to paint this for him in trade and my generous dad accepted. I loved that painting even more after I learned the story. My dad passed away over ten years ago and I miss him dearly, but think of him often in my outdoor outings as he instilled that love in me from an early age. In my reflections, I considered that maybe I carved mine and Kristin’s initials in that tree with my Dad and that painting in mind sometime after he died. That made sense, but again, I just cannot remember the particulars.
One of my favorite things to do in the outdoors is to go and see Native American Petroglyphs and Pictographs. Though the creators have long since passed on, you can still know of their passing and feel of their presence in some way. Those areas feel sacred to me. In my studies of Native American culture and history, I have also learned that many of the eastern tribes used birch bark to preserve their sacred memories. Quaking Aspens, or “quakies” as we call them out west, with their white bark, are closely related to birch trees and people often make their mark on these trees that show for years to come. This begs the question of what is worthy to preserve in that way?
As a Life Scout, I typically espouse the practice of “Leave no Trace” when I am outdoors, so the fact that I carved this sometime in the past surprised me. However, as I have reflected on this, the thought came that maybe truly leaving no trace is really not possible. Just as our coverts become an important part of who we are, maybe we shape our coverts in some ways (hopefully in a positive way).
Regardless of how and when this happened, I’ve come to the conclusion that it is truly fitting. Now, in a small way, my wife and I are etched on the landscape that I have loved so dearly. I can think of no better message I could leave for others. Now other passersby (hopefully my kids, for that matter) might see it and know that I was there and I wanted to say something that would last and truly mattered. Like I mentioned, this covert has always been sacred to me because of the memories of all my bird dogs, but it is even more so now.
Kristin is my best adventure buddy, she has put up with all my outdoor shenanigans now for almost 30 years. If I could only write one thing that would be preserved, I wrote it all those years ago on a quakie in the grouse woods.
