Trout River Wandering

The last time I made the right hand turn on this dirt road it was early fall. A dust storm erupts behind my truck as the aggressive tires churn up the road leaving nothing but clouds of brown and gray earth in the rear view mirror. The sun was shining and the forest that surrounded me was full of oranges, reds and yellows. Temps in the mid 50’s touched my skin while climbing out of my vehicle. But that was then.

Today I made that same right turn and found the old dirt road glistening with a dusting of fresh snow. The surface, a frozen terrain. Ice crystals in the bright December sun create thousands of tiny prisms around me. Very few tire tracks on this road as it is not used very often. I pull into the lot located on the cusp of the middle of nowhere. It sits somewhere between State Route 37, endless dormant farm fields, then it eventually turns to remote wild forest. Turning off The Destination Angler Podcast and taking a quick look at my dashboard it reveals 30 degrees outside. Not too bad for a late December afternoon in the North Country. Opening the truck door I am immediately stuck by the silence of winter in the woods. No leaves swaying in the breeze, no bugs swarming around my head, just the ear ringing silence of a winter's day in the forest. I slide into my Arctic Pro Muck boots and uncase my Remington 870 pump action twelve gauge. It is truly the workhorse of the shotgun world. Heavy and bulky yet as reliable as my dog waking me up at the first hint of morning daylight.

My hunting partner and his dog pull in a few minutes later. Today's pursuit is Ruffed grouse with Max, a French Britney Spaniel acting as our tour guide on this adventure. We get our four legged buddy all set up with his GPS tracking collar, bell and vest and hit the trail.

Only one set of boot tracks are noticeable in the three inches of soft snow on the ground. A good indication that woodlands will be just ours for the afternoon. We cross the small wooden bridge and follow the bright yellow trail markers that are easy to spot in the white wooded landscape. Only the sound of our boots breaking trail and the jingle of Max’s bell breaks the silence. His nose works the woods in pursuit of his quarry . A slight frozen breeze brushes past my skin as we stroll through the thickets and old wood forest. A sense of calm embraces me as I breathe in the cool winter’s air. Trees of all kinds surround us like statues frozen in time. It is truly a peaceful place to be.

Forty five minutes has passed and the river comes into view through the briars. Parts of it frozen over while channels of water continue to flow waiting to be iced over till the spring thaw. We take a break and light our pipes. Not for the nicotine fix but to summon the spirits of the upland hunters from generations gone by. For a moment I feel a nostalgia of a bygone era that will never be replaced. I have to wonder if it felt like this back when William Tapply or Burton Spiller roamed the landscape searching for woodcock and grouse. Were these the moments that inspired them to write such great books like Those Hours Spent Outdoors or Drummer in the Woods?

After our short break we continue on our journey. Max runs out and back checking in with us every few minutes. He dashes through the thickest of cover with ease. We reach a pine filled area and slowly poke through as the flexible branches sweep by our bodies. No sign of grouse but that is ok. This is more about time in nature than the pulling of triggers. We finally make our way back to the original trail. The time is now 3:30pm and the sun is well on it’s way down for the day. According to the calendar the days are starting to get longer but it sure doesn't feel like it yet. We follow the yellow trail makers back to our vehicles. Max is finally starting to show signs of slowing down a bit. It’s been several wonderful hours in the woods. My fingers are a bit cold and my ears are a touch numb but any time you get to wonder about the natural world, watch a good hunting dog work and spend time with a friend it's a success in my book. We get Max settled into his crate for his ride home as my partner and I review our day together. I drive home in silence. No radio or podcasts for this trip. Just the images in my head replaying all the sights and sounds of the day. We may have not seen any birds but we created another great memory that will be talked about for years to come.

About the area we were in:

The Trout River State Forest is located in Franklin County NY. It offers over 600 acres of New York State Public forest land. It has several trails that would be great for walking, snowshoeing, or cross country skiing. It also has access points to the Trout River for fishing and ample space for hunting. The landscape is easy to navigate so anyone can enjoy it. If you decide to visit just remember that this is state land open to anyone who chooses to enjoy it. So please be respectful of each other and the landscape. As Doug Duren says “ It’s Not ours, It’s just our turn”.

Aaron Hardy

Northern NY Adventures