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Posted

Got drug into a coon hunt likely 40 years since my last, with no explanation by my Brother-in-law, but it is family so.....as I told Billethead en-route, you can choose friends but not family. Showed up a few hours early, as requested, had a tour of the area in the gator to familiarize me with the lay of the land. (I had been there in the mid 70's but with another gal so after 38 years of marriage, dumb is good) Learned that this hunt was for some folks who had paid generously at auction to benefit the school and the neighborhood was pleased.  We went to the main place, not super fancy, but a much better location and decorating than our place.  Had grilled duck breast rolled in jalapenos and bacon for horse de vours, (sorry never learned French, ....my Professor at Mizzou would testify English either for that matter) with cocktails followed by salad, baked potatoes, really nice steaks  and wine.  Then away we go, due to my bad ankle I was in-charge of driving the "refreshment cart"  and support vehicle (gator), with coolers loaded with various drinks and snacks. 

One Walker (my favorite) and a Red bone were released it was a clear, cool fall evening, stars were very clear and the sound carried well.  Very soon they cut a track, and the music began, man I love hearing any hound but the deep drum of a Walker is so special.  They drop off the hilltop, I circle, get in the bottom below,the deep voice of the Walker,  broooam, broooam,broooam...., then they tree, the Red bone is very, very excited, think she got an eye full.  I watch from the bottom as the wheat (now led) lights descend, a near perfect circle below the cedar tree is formed with lights shining looking in excitement. Then a lot of squalling and hissing, starts moving from tree to tree in a tight cedar grove.  The lights scattered quicker than if you had blew them plumb up..., going far and fast. I was totally dumbfounded (easy task).  I turned on the Gator lights, to make a  regroup point, as apparently there was an issue. After a bit the hunters gather at the "refreshment cart'.  The story goes, it was a bobcat, and was not happy being confused with a coon and refused to be treed. The hunters were not scared just trying to give the cat some space...???, after being refreshed they went on.  The youngest, Sam was about 9, had drank at least 3 Mountian Dews, he kept pace with the dogs for quite some time.  Pretty sure his Mother made note of my name when we returned, hopefully not to report to child services, he was not skinned up too bad. 

Coon hunting has come a long way from my younger days.  Brian the dog owner had a GPS deal around his neck.  He could point out where we were and each of the dogs... maps and everything.  The next track was fast and furious, as the dogs got further than anticipated, Brian said they are in a drive way..... he said 900 yds out...... showed me the map... only grumpy neighbor in 3 sections.... "I think they treed in the yard"....Please no. Fortunately the coon went on (likely jumped onto the house and ran to catch a tree on the east side) The lights in the house came on, ..Brians dogs are trained not to come to anyone but him. We ended up with two coons and a scared Opossum.  I am not a coon hunter by any means but sure enjoy hearing the hounds run and watching the antics of the hunters will never grow old. Hope they invite me back next year.

“If a cluttered desk is a sign, of a cluttered mind, of what then, is an empty desk a sign?”- Albert Einstein

Posted

Sounds like a great time Griz! I have only hunted wuth dogs on a single quail hunt and a rabbit hunt. I enjoyed watching the dogs on both trips. That was easy to do since I didn't hit a bird or rabbit on either trip.

  • 3 weeks later...
Posted

Thanks for the story Griz! It revived a memory from childhood. The farmer next door raised champion Blue Ticks and Red Bones. Invited me to go on the first hunt of the season in 1967, when I was nine. Cold, North Missouri night, 4 guys, 4 dogs, and a 30 acre woodlot full of crafty coons. What a rush! Good dogs are a wonder to behold. Thanks again!

I can't dance like I used to.

Posted

Good stuff Griz - My granddad on my mother's side was a coon hunter.  He was a farmer in SE MO and hunted during the winter.  He passed when I was 12, but I did get to go on one hunt with them, it wasn't season yet so it was a training run, but as a kid I thought that was one of my most fun adventures ever.  One of the dogs got lost, it wasn't one of my grandpa's but one of the other guys dog.  He left his shirt there where we were parked, went back the next day and the dog was there.

Posted

Sounds like a great time to me.  I coon hunted for 12 years pretty hard. Had a few mules we rode when we planned to get further away from the farm than we wanted to walk. We would take off in any direction. Come to a fence, unmount the mule, place a saddle pad over the top strand, he would jump over the fence, remount and off we went again.  I remember one very cold Ohio night hunting with Lowell Eicher.  We were trying to catch up to the dogs. I took a short cut and came upon a creek.  Just as the mule jumped,  he lost footing and he and i both ended up in 3' of water on a night that wasnt much warmer than 25.  It was a miserably next 2 hours.  I havent been coon hunting in 7 years, but really enjoy it.  Those mules sure made getting around alot easier. 

TinBoats BassClub.  An aluminum only bass club. If interested in info send me a PM. 

Posted

I grew up with an uncle who did a lot of coon hunting around Bull Creek.  John Layton trained walkers for various people around the country and he was darn good at it I must say.  Lived over in Walnut Shade off 65.  I think he also was one of the first around to use mules as well.  He got into training them and teaching them to jump the fences.  As a kid we would go there a lot and I remember there would always be skins hanging from the barn.  I think back then he told me they would get $20 a hide for a good one.  He really enjoyed the whole thing and especially the dogs.  Not many people are into that now it seems.

"you can always beat the keeper, but you can never beat the post"

There are only three things in life that are certain : death, taxes, and the wind blowing at Capps Creek!

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