High hopes and sore seats: A horseback hunt for Canada’s elusive dusky grouse

It didn’t take me long to remember why I’ve long had a love-hate relationship with horses. As we climbed steadily up the winding rocky path, I recognized what would take these pack horses less than three hours to ascend would have taken me most of the day, even without all the hunting and camping gear they were hauling. In that moment, I remembered what it is I love about horses, even though I’m naturally nervous around them—they’ll take you to places you’d probably never otherwise see.

Each hundred feet of elevation gain revealed more of what makes Kananaskis Country, in the foothills and front ranges of the Rockies, so special. As far as the eye could see there was nothing but wilderness, just dark spruce and fir forests, open alpine meadows and remote rocky peaks. No wonder the region is renowned for its multi-use management, which includes cattle grazing, oil and gas exploration, logging, trapping and numerous recreational activities, such as camping,  mountain biking, hiking, horseback riding, skiing, fishing and, of course, hunting.

When you think of hunting in Kananaskis, what comes to mind first are big game, including bighorn sheep, elk, moose, mule deer and cougars. My hunting partner, Troy Flasch, and I weren’t after any of those iconic mountain species, however. No, our thoughts were focused instead on a relatively unknown denizen of the high country: the dusky grouse.

Troy is the sales manager at the Korth Group, a highly respected, family-owned distributor of hunting products based in Okotoks, Alberta. I’ve known him for many years, but we’d never hunted together. Then about three years ago, we got to talking about grouse; although Troy is relatively new to hunting, he has developed a passion for pursuing upland game birds. I idly mentioned I’d never hunted blue grouse, as most of us still refer to dusky grouse. Troy filed that nugget away, and earlier this year asked if I’d like to join him on a horseback trip in September to hunt them. I immediately said yes, ignoring my long-held trepidations about horses.

I hadn’t been on a horse since the early 1990s, when I spent 10 days riding through B.C.’s Muskwa region hunting elk. But after a few pointers from the crew at Dewy Matthews’ Anchor D Guiding & Outfitting, I climbed aboard Chunky and we eagerly set off. Troy and I were led by wranglers Vic and Roy, each with a pack horse in tow, and in less than three hours we’d reached our planned camping spot above Volcano Creek in the heart of Kananaskis Country.

A few hours of uphill riding on narrow trails is not at all like a leisurely ride in flat country, but I made it to our destination with no issues, my hide and bones all intact. Still, it was a relief when we dismounted, unpacked our gear, and said our goodbyes to Vic and Roy as they began their trek back down. It was early afternoon on a Friday, and they’d be back to retrieve us at midday that Sunday.

As we set up our tents and got our gear squared away, I marvelled at the view from the ridge above the treeline that would be our home for the next couple of days. At 2,225 metres above sea level, all I could see in every direction was little else but cool forests, incised creek valleys and towering mountains. We were definitely in dusky grouse country.