My head weighed heavy as the shrill alarm clock split the still morning air, but like a kid waking up on Christmas Day, a sudden bolt of excitement coursed through my body. Today was the first time I would raise a gun to red grouse in many years. I had been looking forward to it since 2021, when I lost a walked-up spot on the same moor to an enforced Covid isolation. Charging around the house, I threw on my gear and rushed down breakfast, while my Clumber spaniel Bertie buzzed with energy, knowing what my outfit meant.
It was a short drive to the starting point, but this was going to be far from an easy day on the moor. I would be walking from the base of the valley and up two terraces of moor before my gun would be unleashed. Like with many of my adventures, time was of the
