When Hunting Doesn't Go As Planned

Next weekend is the end of dog hunting at Wolf Creek so we're trying to make each hunt count. The Hunter took a friend from Auburn, Alabama on Saturday and got a spike buck. He had to fight a black and tan hound named Oscar for it, but brought home the hindquarters and backstraps. I can see a little Zatarain's breading and an cast iron skillet in my future.

My dad and I went with him on Sunday. The forecast was for rain in the afternoon, but somebody forgot to tell the clouds they weren't supposed to arrive until after lunch. 

Neither The Hunter nor I had any rain gear, but, as usual, Daddy was prepared. Folded up in the pocket of his jacket was a poncho he got from some kind of US Steel promotion, almost fifty years ago! About the time they let the dogs loose it started to rain. 

I had my video camera with me and shot this little montage of my thoughts on the morning. Unfortunately, that's all I shot...

 

Dog hunters use walkie-talkie radios to let everybody know when the dogs are let loose and which way they're headed. That's helpful if you can't hear the dogs. The only problem is: you have to know where you are. There are spots at this club called The Refrigerator, Ax Road and Double Buck. If you don't know that a refrigerator was dumped at a certain place thirty years ago or where Sammy killed two bucks with one shot, you are just outta luck. Of course, I usually don't have a clue where I'm standing, but it is entertaining to listen to them talk sometimes.

"I heard a shot over by The Lake. Who's over there?"

"I think it's John."

"What'd 'e get?

"A tree."

Even though the hunt was shortened by rain, it was so much fun to be with my dad. He's the one who taught me to "roll with the punches" while I was growing up, and we certainly had to do that on Sunday.

Hunt 'Im Up!

When Fear Cheoil morphed into The Hunter this year, he joined a new club much closer to the house. Wolf Creek Hunting Club has three tracts and a little over 3400 acres.  They also hunt deer with dogs on the weekends. I've never had that kind of a hunting experience and it's been many years since he has. It's much more social and you don't have to sit in a tree stand and freeze for hours at a time. I went once before the holiday craziness started and then again this past Saturday.

One thing I did to make hunting a little more comfortable: I went shopping at Bass Pro Shop in Leeds, Alabama, and bought some hunting gear that is actually made for women. I've always just worn whatever The Hunter wasn't using or has, um, outgrown. Anyway, I got a pair of camo fleece pants, gloves and cap. The pants are not at all slimming, but they fit better than The Hunter's old camo overalls and they kept me warm.

 My new female friendly camo gear.

One of the best aspects of this club is that they don't start until about seven am. That seems very civilized to me. While I am a morning person, between the hours of three and six am, I'm really, really cranky. It was nice that I didn't have to make my way to a tree stand and climb into it without making a sound, in the pitch blackness of the predawn hours. 

All the hunters load into the back of pickup trucks and get dropped off at 100 yard intervals along the prearranged club road. Then, they load the dogs up, take them to a couple of places close-by and turn them loose. The dogs find deer and drive them toward the hunters. At least that's the idea, anyway. The drivers and dog handlers coordinate by two way radio and the hunters can listen in. If somebody sees a deer running they tell everybody which way it's headed. Kind of like a deer hunting play by play. I could also hear the dogs baying and barking through the woods. Sometimes the dogs don't jump deer, they run rabbits. I find it fascinating that the dog's owners can tell which dog is following what. 

 A Beagle mix and a Black and Tan are ready to run a deer, 

or maybe a rabbit, or maybe just run.

There are Beagles, Black and Tan Hounds, some Walker Hounds and a Blue Tick or two, plus several dogs of uncertain mixture. The one thing that unites them all, though, is hunting. They bark and whine and howl to be let out and run. We did two runs that morning then broke for lunch. When we got back they were planning another run for the afternoon. 

As you can imagine, hunting is still a man's world kind of place. I know to just kind of hang back and watch what's going on. Sooner or later they'll get used to me. As a matter of fact, one of them nicknamed me "Double Barrel" because I use The Hunter's vintage double barreled shotgun, instead of a pump like everybody else. 

I was standing in a patch of sunlight trying to warm up a little while they planned the afternoon run, when the only other woman hunter came up and introduced herself as Evelyn. She's from Pennsylvania but has been in Alabama since 1977. She is an avid hunter and even has a trailer at the camp. We didn't get to talk long because they started loading up for the afternoon run, but it was nice of her to reach out to me. 

 

 Me and Evelyn. The white trailer in the background is hers.

They will only be running the dogs until the middle of January, then it's stand/stalk hunting only until the end of January. I hope my nickname sticks until next season.