Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, November 13, 1995 TAG: 9511140012
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: B-6 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: BILL COCHRAN OUTDOOR EDITOR
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
"First snow of the season?" an outsider asked Bob Beahm.
"The fourth," said Beahm, who is a grouse-woodcock guide and avid snowshoe rabbit hunter who lives in Montrose, just outside Elkins.
Heading across the valley, Beahm was wondering if the English setter and two Brittany spaniels in the back of his yellow 1987 Chevy Blazer were the right breeds for the occasion. Maybe in this weather he should be hauling boxes of beagles instead of bird dogs.
But Glenn Branscom had driven up from Roanoke County for his annual woodcock and grouse hunt. He's been doing that for 14 years, ever since Beahm got into the guiding business. Beahm grew up in Virginia's Shenandoah Valley, moved to West Virginia on a Mountaineer baseball scholarship, taught school and was a principal.
This was the last of three days of hunting for Branscom. The strategy was to go after woodcocks early in the day, then follow that with grouse hunting.
Branscom, who is a retired GE engineer, didn't say so aloud, but he figured the snow had spoiled any serious chance to work woodcocks. Either the birds would have migrated out of the area or they would be holding so tight in the snow the dogs couldn't scent them.
Just getting to one of Beahm's favorite coverts was tricky. When Beahm steered left on a steep, two-track road, the Blazer kept straight and Branscom had to climb out and shove his 6-foot-5 frame against the side to help get the vehicle back on track. Then he and Beahm walked the rest of the distance.
Canaan Valley may be best known as a skiing area, the home of Timberline and Canaan Valley Resort, but for Branscom and other bird hunters, it is the premier woodcock cover within a reasonable drive of Roanoke.
The huge mountain valley, often described as a bit of Canada gone astray, is 3,200 feet above sea level, with surrounding mountain peaks rising another 1,000 feet, some of them home of wilderness areas. The valley is a wetland that holds in its palm the relics of northern flora left behind by the last Ice Age.
The woodcocks arrive every fall, on their southern migration, often tarrying, as if in no hurry to head toward the Gulf of Mexico. The moist soil, around the roots of alders, aspen and hawthorns, afford them excellent opportunities to probe for earthworms - or "fishing worms," as Beahm calls them.
Like quail and grouse - and everything else that wing shooters hold in high esteem - woodcock populations have been in a down cycle.
Wildlife biologists say woodcocks have been declining about 2 percent annually. Along with the birds, hunting season lengths and bag limits also have decreased.
But the population in Canaan is promising this year, Beahm said. One of his outings produced 17 flushes.
"I don't think we have reached the peak of the migration yet," he said.
With a 30-day season, Beahm stays booked and isn't looking for new clients.
"People would rather kill grouse, but woodcock give better dog work - the birds hold better - and there sort of always are some woodcocks," said Beahm.
Those are traits that attract Branscom to woodcock hunting. The setter on this trip is his, a large, tri-colored male named Patch. He is the family pet that sleeps at the foot of Branscom's bed, but when dropped in bird cover vigor and enthusiasm take over.
"He is 11 years old, but he is having his best season," said Branscom. "He is kind of like the rest of us, when you get toward the end, you do your best."
A good example of that was the first day of hunting season.
"He pointed a grouse right out of the box," said Branscom. "We hadn't gone 75 yards, and I walked in there and up came the grouse and I killed it. I told Patch, 'Old buddy, it's all down hill from here.' "
But the snowy day in Canaan may prove to be the highlight of Patch's 1995-96 season. In a narrow covert bordering a gas line, Patch pointed one woodcock, then another, and another. Branscom dropped them all.
The last woodcock erupted under Patch's inquisitive nose, and Branscom shouldered his lightweight 20-gauge double and instinctively followed the bird's flight, squeezing the trigger and sending it tumbling into a tangle of spirea.
"Forty-six minutes," said Branscom.
That's how little it had taken to bag a limit of three birds, even better than the 1 hour 6 minutes of two days earlier. The middle day pretty well had been spoiled by heavy rain.
"This really gets me pumped up," said Branscom, lifting a woodcock by its long bill, and admiring its large eyes and its brown and black and dusty orange feathers.
The woodcock were holding to the seeps, the little wet spots that bleed through the snow, said Beahm.
A couple of times it snowed so hard that Beahm, Branscom and their dogs would pull up and wait it out, then the sun would shine and a blue sky momentarily would expose the mountains that rim the valley. The hunters would push on into the next snowstorm. All the while the temperature dropped, the snow level increased and the wind chill turned a few more degrees below dismal.
Not to be overlooked was Branscom's shooting: three birds up, three birds down. Woodcock aren't the hardest of birds to kill, nor are they they easiest.
"I say it's just like shooting a knuckle ball," Branscom said of their erratic flight.
There is some crossover of woodcock and grouse habitat in Canaan, but grouse don't like to get their feet as wet as do woodcocks. So the grouse awaited in coverts of somewhat higher elevation, and like always, when they were flushed Bransom wouldn't be talking just about knuckle balls, but also fastballs, curves, change-ups, screwballs and sliders.
by CNB