2008 2009 Hunting Season

Next destination was North West of Steamboat Springs to the other far side of Routt National Forest to an area known to have Sage, Blue, and Sharptail Grouse. My target was Sharptails as I wanted to hunt all four of Colorado's Grouse on this trip. On my way I passed through California Park where I found a man with a horse and a dog. Myself having rodeo'd several years took him as a real cowboy. I noticed him taking a picture of his horse, so I stopped and offered to take a picture of him with his horse. A very interesting gentleman, we began to talk of cowboys, Indians, travels, and the old ways. I was invited to his camp for Coffee. He was traveling in an old Van and had a Tee Pee. He called it something else in that it was actually smaller than a Tee Pee, but I do not remember. He cooked us me and told stories of the Indian way, liver eating Johnson (Jeremiah Johnson) who's cabin sight was only 17 miles over the "bears ears" on the Snake river, and stories of his most recent book. He was Bernie Rose, a Northwestern Colorado Artist and writer. Because I "said the right things" I was allowed or invited to participate in an Indian ceremony, of which I will not describe, nor did I photograph. I felt it quite an honor.

I still had a ways to go to where I wanted to hunt Sharptail Grouse, so on up the Forest road I went almost into Wyoming. I had a conversation there with some elk hunters that had ridden 7 miles across the area I was to hunt and found they had seen no Grouse until they reached timber, meaning they had only seen Blue Grouse, but having a dog, I tried anyway.

Soon I found myself moving higher working more edge to see if I could at least pick up a Blue Grouse or two. The Fall colors of Ferns in the Aspens was breathtaking. Also I found the most perfect tree in the world.

I set up camp in a side valley of Slater Park looking towards Wyoming. I am a Texas man and no stranger to Coyotes, Been around them all my life, hunted them, and trapped them. Much of the night I had a pair of dogs above my camp. Never saw them, but they sounded different. They never sang like coyotes, but yet vocal yipping at each other a lot. At one point I could hear some playful fighting. I am certain they where Wolves that had come down from Wyoming. No one will convince me otherwise, but then know one will ever know.

Morning view of the valley before my camp. Now it was time to sample the fishing in Slater Creek. Some very nice and very wild Brook trout here. As big as 13 inches, some maybe bigger.

I liked to never got out of the area though. Ute Indians where running sheep on the National Forest. Talk about a road block. Note the White Dog in the bottom left corner of the Sheep picture. That is a Kuvasz. Like my Blaze a Vizsla; the Kuvasz is also an old Hungarian Breed, but rather than a hunter, is a livestock guard dog. I saw several of them roaming the area with the sheep.

Finally on paved road I headed south for my last hunt. It rained most of the way and finding a break in the rain, I pulled off just before dark into a canyon on the Colorado River to spend the night. On the tailgait I cooked up some trout and grouse for a two course meal.