Palouse Outdoors: October's Return

We've hit that time of year when crisp fall mornings creep in. The warmth and weight of the covers make it hard to slip out of slumber. The aroma of hot, fresh coffee creeps to the forefront of our dreams, tantalizing our nostrils before we turn on the burner.

Clarity and solace fill the early golden hour as the pink hues of dawn blaze through the clouds like fire. Ochre and auburn tones glow among senesced foliage as it clatters to the ground in the autumn breeze. Mountain tops and the long shadows of the pines beckon, like a thread of gravity tugging at the heartstrings. Elk bugle from distant ridges where ruffed grouse feed like ghosts, floating in and out of view beneath the shrubbery, picking at plump snowberries and tender buds. Breaking the silence on a morning like this feels sacrilegious.

Brad Trumbo

The rusty red of dry parsnip flower buckwheat flowers signals fall in the Blue Mountains.

An old setter lopes ahead on a forgotten two-track. Her black spots blend perfectly with the dappled understory. Splotches of white bounce through the shade. A spring seep trickles down the ridge to the left. Wild rose, thick grasses, and the wide, veiny leaves of skunk cabbage are scattered among ocean spray and serviceberry. Somewhere within this tangle, a ruffed grouse sits perfectly camouflaged, prepared to let us pass by, but the setter's nose will not be betrayed.

Brad Trumbo

Finn trots through dried sulfur buckwheat flowers on an early-fall grouse hunt.

The grouse takes wing before the setter's point. Primary flight feathers slap loudly against the shrubbery. A scant few wing beats put impressive distance between us. The coal-black neck ruff is visible as the large bird clears the vegetation. Aiming and swinging through the bird prove fruitless. Hollow clicks of the camera shutter capture tree branches and a feathered blur canting through the limbs.

The setter moves on, crossing a downed log, leaving footfalls reverberating through its decayed center. Spent ocean spray flowers drape over the road like beige tassels. Ninebark glows a rich burgundy. Nuthatches and Oregon juncos chirp and flit among the ponderosas. American red squirrels chatter at the northern flickers pecking around the flaking evergreen bark.

Among the painted shrubs is evidence of a dry summer. Few berries or rose hips cling to spindly branches. Scarce food means scarce grouse, making every mountaintop encounter a blessing. Scarcity aside, the mountain delivered, with help from a setter casting through the autumnal palette. We've awaited October's return.