At last, we had the car packed and were headed south towards Tompkins in Newfoundland for a hunting adventure. It had been a wet month deprived of any camping and It was way overdue. Furthermore, Cory and I had come out of too may hunts empty handed. Thus we were salivating at the prospect of some fresh ptarmigans while on a camping adventure.
We left the car at the Starlight trailhead and quickly gained elevation as we hiked through birch forests and tuckamores. Devouring my tuna, tomato and sprout sandwich I stared down at the meandering river which did acrobatics to flow through the Codroy Valley. Luckily the cold air pushed us constantly higher as we transitioned into the Grand Codroy Way (complete description of both trails in my hiking book).
Clouds hanging low in the rolling hills welcomed us as we made it out into the barrens. Making it all the more challenging to find a suitable campsite. Which, I guess is why we call it a hunting adventure. Although exposed, we finally found a dry and somewhat flat area to set up the tent. Not far away trickled some water and a wide patch of tuckamore bush (short, tangled spruce trees) were close by and looked promising for hunting grounds. We were now surrounded by thick clouds. Thus we quickly set up the tent while pushing away some bear feces.
Excited we took off into the clouds for an exploration mission in the surroundings bush and barrens. A snowshoe hare sprinted feet away from us into the tangled trees, no luck. Despite the eerie feeling of clouds and mist we kept on hiking through the Long Range mountains. After a while, the mist turned into rain and the sky grew darker. We headed back to the tent and hid from the cold air. I slipped into my big down parka, put on my warm leggings and tuque and tucked my hands into warm mitts. In spite of the cold and harsh weather warmth flushed my cheeks.
Half grateful that we didn’t get any ptarmigans tonight, I fell asleep hoping no black bear would come for a night stroll. Vivid images of my trek in the Serpentine valley flashed through my mind. At least Cory had his rifle for this hunting adventure and I also had my bear spray. My down sleeping bag kept me warm and cozy although the wind blew harshly on the tent all night long. Being the first real Wreckhouse wind that my tent sustained I had apprehensions about its strength. Consequently I had a short and restless night.
It was still raining hard at dusk and we were close to simply returning home knowing that no bird would show themselves in those kind of conditions. Exhausted I dosed off for another hour and woke up to more clement weather. Cory jumped right out of the tent gun in hand and disappeared into the mountains. On the other hand, I reluctantly traded my warm sleeping bag for the cold morning breeze. First order of the day: washroom, FOOD and coffee.
The fog and clouds faded away with warming temperatures, if you can call 6 degrees warm. Finally, the stunning landscape unveiled itself. The Gulf of St. Lawrence stood still ahead, and a string of white collided with the cliffs of the Long Range mountains transforming itself into a roaring waterfall which fed Campbell’s pond some 400m below. With this scenery I had a good feeling about today’s hunting adventure.
We roamed through the barrens, crawled under dense bushes and glided through golden grass like predators. Silently listening to any sound while scanning the horizon. All of a sudden I called out to Cory: ” Stop! I think I heard something around here.” and I walked just a few steps to come to a halt: “Cory, Cory, right there, I see some white spots.”. And not short after I was retrieving two willow ptarmigans as he chased after another one. This hunting adventure was a real success. Five willow ptarmigans in hand we were satisfied and glad we didn’t head home after all. Sometimes a little rough weather makes it all the more enjoyable.
Alex
Live Wildly Intrepid!
Carpe Diem
