The scene Lloyd posted of a pile of down, feathers, and bones is as old as birds and predators. But I don't think it is mere coincidence that when I began seeing that same scene much more frequently, it coincided with the persistent and ongoing crash in ruffed grouse numbers. I am very familiar with the area where Lloyd grew up, and acknowledge that we were both near the extreme Northern boundary of the range of wild quail. I'd guess that had a lot to do with the depth and extent of lake effect snow coming off of Lake Erie. But we did have some quail, and now we don't. Wild ringneck pheasant populations crashed in the 1980's, soon after the Game Commission unwisely permitted the shooting of hens. And the PGC Biologists blamed everything but that big change they iniated in harvesting, which also coincided with decreased trapping and increased predator populations. And ruffed grouse went through their normal 11 year population cycles, but even the down years were much better than what I see now. The grouse even benefited from a big increase in logging caused by timber companies dramatically increasing their harvesting of oak trees during the Gypsy Moth infestation of the early 1990's. I flushed and shot a lot of grouse during that time. But then I began noticing a lot more of those piles of grouse (and turkey) feathers and bones like Lloyd shared, and soon the flushes and shots became less frequent. Nobody was spraying Roundup, Simazine, or Paraquat in those grouse woods, and nobody was building Malls or housing developments either. The 1990's was also the time when I began hearing and seeing coyotes, and they have increased in numbers to a point that they are apparently eating or driving out much of their competition, such as foxes and opossums.
I won't say that the increased number of predators is the sole cause of our present situation where quail and pheasant are all but extinct, and grouse are very scarce. I very much believe that it is a combination of factors that finally reaches a tipping point where mortality began to outstrip survival and natural breeding rates. I also know that the larger farming operations use herbicides instead of cultivators to control weeds, and there just is not nearly as much cover, or insects for food between the rows, as there was when I began hunting. But I also know that in my area at least, the next Amish Dutch field or abandoned farm over still provides the same cover and food sources that were available decades ago. And logging of pines and hardwoods provides a constant source of succession growth. This isn't at all like some of the midwest where agriculture has been dominated by massive monocrop farms with scarcely any fence-rows or natural cover remaining. And Hunting License sales are down at least 25% from their peak, so we sure can't blame hunting pressure or over-harvesting.
I don't really believe that our Game Biologists are too stupid to connect the dots. But I do believe that many of them simply refuse to acknowledge some of the obvious factors in the decline of game bird populations. The money from Hunting Licenses provides the funds for their paychecks, but it seems like the interests of hunters is taking a back seat to those of environmentalists who whine and complain that every raptor deserves to be left alone, and do nothing to strike a healthy balance, or create an attraction to the next generation of hunters. I can only imagine how quickly I would have lost interest if I had followed my Dad through forest or fields for several days without so much as even flushing a grouse or pheasant.
Stan's pics of doing controlled burns reminds me of all the times I mowed fire-breaks and then waited for a calm evening to light things up. I didn't get to do it this spring because of the rains. Several times, not long after I got a good flame front moving, the wind would pick up and... holy shit!!!... I would damn near kill myself getting it under control. I don't know how I never got arrested for uncontrolled burning without a permit. I did have a local cop pull in one evening as I was frantically driving my tractor through the flame front and smoke, using the back-blade to knock down the flames before they could get into the neighbors woods. He asked me if I wanted him to call the Fire Dept., and for some reason, he believed me when I said, "No thanks officer, I'll be fine."
