I guess I am not too competitive. I have nothing to prove and personally have no desire for a trophy from a hunt. Heck, I think I entered one (1) PPHA hunting contest and been a member since we first started this organization.
I entered Mosquito Creek Contest many moons ago. Sorta was pushed into it, but went along with the gang anyway. We were to hunt with hounds and stay at a cabin nearby Mosquito Creek.
The day/evening/night before the hunt, 95% of our gang was full of alcohol and seemed like a typical Deer camp from my younger days.
The hound guys and myself were the lone 5% bent on hunting the weekend.
Day break the next morning, I was taken to the top of a power line by Mitch, one of the hound guys and told to go over there and listen for the hounds. Mitch said, We will go through 'the bottom' with the hounds and maybe something will come your way and cross your path. Mitch left the mountain to head down to 'the bottom'.
As it got light enough, I positioned myself at a likely spot from experience I gained Fox hunting with hounds, as a boy.
I was just off the edge of the power line, standing on a natural bench sloping towards 'the bottom'.
Thirty minutes after sun rise, I was nestled in, well blended and feeling good at this spot, when I heard a pickup truck laboring up the power line. I could not see this truck, but clearly heard the engine stop at the clearing, followed by two doors closing. Two minutes later, I heard a screening Cottontail coming from a not to good electronic speaker. Yipes. I don't move and sit tight.
Fifteen minutes into this, the distress sound stopped, two doors slammed and the pickup went off the mountain.
Phew, glad that's over, Now for some real hunting...Soon the guys should be making there way to 'the bottom'.
As time went by, I seem to be able to hear every sound the woods made. From dead silence to a mole under the leaves a few yards from me. But no distance hounds.
As my mind was wondering/day dreaming whether shoot the Coyote when he is next to the Hemlock or wait until it's closer, near the fallen branch...I heard a familiar sound of a pickup truck trudging up the steep, rutted power line.
Again, I can't see but hear pickup stop, two doors close, a few minutes later a repeat performance of a dying Rabbit, but much poorer sound quality than the first.
They aren't there too long and leave the same one way, up/down route.
I settle down and am wondering how things are going in 'the bottom'.
It seems like along time on this side of the mountain, when I hear a faint, distant hound. My ears were keen, now I hear both hounds a long, long ways off....
To Be Continued
