This is what I see when I look at this issue’s cover photograph and accompanying images deeper in the magazine. I see a male ruffed grouse drumming in spring to attract female onlookers; a log partially marred with scat yet worn clean of bark in places from the bird pacing back and forth; and surrounding dense forest cover preferred by the grouse to safeguard it from predators during its spring preoccupation.
What I don’t see, invisible to all of us, is the effort it took Jim Job, Game and Fish Department outreach biologist, to capture the images in 2021 of a bird that is far more often heard in spring by passersby than seen.
Here’s a taste.
To get the photos, Job would leave Grand Forks at unreasonable hours to drive to the Pembina Hills so he could be in his photo blind by 3:30 a.m. or earlier, with the hope of beating the grouse to its drumming log.
But let’s back up for a minute.
Finding The Log, not just any log, the grouse preferred to drum from was nearly as difficult as eventually photographing the bird.
So, I heard the grouse drumming in the woods and tried sneaking in through trees that are so thick that most of the time you cannot see over 10 to 15 feet. When I’m sneaking in, I probably get to within 50 to 60 yards of him and I hear him scurry off the log. I gave him about a half-hour and then I continued walking in and flushed him.
Job didn’t find the bird’s drumming log on that trip, but he returned a couple days later to continue the search.
It was pretty loud going because of the trees, sticks and dead leaves. I heard him drumming, but he heard me coming and would quit drumming. I’d wait anywhere from 10 to 30 minutes until he started up again, sneaking about 10 yards at a time, just trying to spot him. Finally, when I was about 25 yards from the log, I started seeing flashes of the bird drumming through little pieces of openness between the trees … now I have the log pinpointed. I walk in there, flush him off, and his log is what looked to me like the Holy Grail of drumming logs … covered in scat, bark worn off. This was it.
Job then hiked back to his vehicle to retrieve his photo blind and trail camera to monitor the bird’s comings and goings.
I put up the blind and trimmed a bunch of brush around it and put the trail camera up to see if he was coming every morning and every evening, or every other morning or every third morning. I really didn’t know. Being 110 to 120 miles away from where I live, my commute was getting a little long, so I wanted to know when it was best to come back.
Job returned four days later in the middle of the afternoon when he figured the grouse was away from the log. He was excited to check his trail camera, knowing without question he captured the bird doing its thing.
I flushed the grouse about 10 yards from the log, which got me even more excited because I knew I got him on the trail camera.
Or not.
I grab the camera, check the card and there is no grouse on the card. The grouse never used the log in the last four days, but I knew he was there because I flushed him within 10 yards of the drumming log. I figured he must have moved logs, so I start going through the brush, sometimes on my hands and knees, and I come across another log that had really fresh droppings on it only about 5 yards from the original log.
So, Job moved the blind, trimmed more brush, and knew exactly where he’d be long before sunup the following day.
When I get out of the car at about 3:30 a.m., I hear boom, boom, boom, boom, boom … I sneak down there, and I hear the grouse run off the log. He never flew, he just ran through the leaves. I get set up in the blind and about 5 minutes later I hear him walk back and start drumming again.
Job listened to the bird drum for 2 hours as he waited for enough light to finally filter through the trees and brush to put his camera to use.
I honestly couldn’t believe that after two years of trying to get this bird on my camera, and after all the miles of driving and listening and watching, it was about to happen. When it was probably sunrise, I needed about 10 more minutes for good light to filter through the trees, and then he jumps off the log, goes about 5 yards into the heavy sticks and starts drumming on another log. I wait for him for 3 hours, listen to him drum, and I can’t see him at all. Eventually, he gets off the log and walks away. I sat in the blind for about 7 hours and didn’t get any useful photos or video.
Job returned that afternoon, only to hear the grouse drum out of sight until dark. He moved the blind one more time, thinking the next morning might be his last chance at photographing the bird.
I get there the next morning, same time, he leaves, then comes back. There’s just getting to be enough light, and he jumps off the log and races downhill. And I thought that my luck was just that bad.
Turns out, the grouse exited its perch to pursue a female grouse that was attracted to the drumming. About 10 minutes later the grouse slowly made its way through the trees and returned to the log.
I got him jumping up on the log and immediately fluffing up. And he went right back to drumming. I got him going up into a tree and eating aspen buds, so that was neat to see. I think I took 700 photos and lots of video.
Finally.
Trying to photograph this grouse was challenging. I would put it up there with chasing a 6.5-year-old whitetail buck. I wouldn’t say due to the smartness of the bird, but because the thickness of the habitat. It’s so hard to see in there and you understand quickly why they have to drum to advertise themselves.
