During a clay shoot in August 2004, I mentioned to my friend Bernie that although I had done a lot of loading on grouse moors, I had never actually shot a grouse. I added that I had, however, eaten quite a few North Yorkshire native birds in local restaurants.
“I can fix that for you,” came the reply. “Our DIY pheasant syndicate has enough of a moorland edge to provide a small grouse drive.”
So it was that, on a warm day in the second half of September, we commenced the 800ft climb to the moor. Bernie had omitted to mention the climb. On reaching the top, the four of us who had been nominated as standing Guns, still puffing a bit, were told where to stand to cover one end of the grouse drive. The beaters and walking Guns set off for a further walk of half a mile, down the edge of the moor. Our gunline spread out about 40 yards apart and walked forwards about 50 yards into a slight depression, for partial concealment. Our
