MY MENTOR

The following article, "MY MENTOR", was originally published in the February 2015 issue of Better Beagling magazine and in The Rabbit Hunter magazine March of 2015 issue.

Many more pictures are included here.

The article is reprinted here with slight edits and by popular demand.

From High on the Allegheny Plateau of Western Pennsylvania

MY MENTOR

By Joe Ewing

High Hareman of the Big Woods Hare Hunters of The Allegheny

       “TALLY HO!  TALLY HO!  HERE GOES!  HERE GOES!” Andy had bounced a snowshoe hare out of an ancient tree stump. The hounds immediately harked to his call and were soon locked on to the scent of the hare. Sugar and Charlie were chasing that hare like I knew they could. They were heading away, their cries becoming fainter until they were out of hearing. Where were they going? We knew it was a hare. Andy had seen it.

          I remember the hunt like it was yesterday. It was back in the seventies, more than forty years ago. I was a young buck who wanted to hunt all day, every day if I could. I had a new rabbit-hunting partner, Andy, and we  each had a beagle. My beagle was a grade hound and Andy’s hound, Charlie, didn’t much look like a beagle or a hound, however, those two hounds knew how to chase a rabbit. Looks or pedigrees didn’t seem to count for much with those two.  Charlie and Sugar were fast, very fast. 

Sugar in her prime.

They were always competing for the lead, which led to some frequent problems except on snowshoe hare. The more years that go by the better those hounds get. Charlie loved Sugar. We never had any puppies, but, poor Charlie endured some agonizing days afield.

Andy and I had to be in the woods at daylight, we refused to quit until sunset and we had to be out in the field every day off, except Sunday. I don’t remember how the two beagles kept going all day but they did. Andy and I hunted deer and all the other game available. Things have changed a great deal since way back then.

Jim emerging from the cabin of the late Jack Hugh's
boat with a ham sandwich during a fishing trip on
Lake Ontario circa 2006.

Mr. James R. Taylor, a local celebrity, known as "Jim" by his many friends and also a co-worker, from DuBois, Pennsylvania, invited Andy and me on this hunt. I felt privileged  and honored to be invited.  Jim guaranteed there were snowshoe hare on the “Rockton Mountain” and strongly recommended we go after them and today was the day.

Jim was a real sportsman and outdoors man and still is to this day. Jim had been a true beagler at one time in his life and was feeding a couple of bird dogs as I remember. I'd been on snowshoe hare hunts before with other hunters and their dogs without much success. This would be my first actual hunt for the elusive snowshoe hare. Little did I know what I was getting into and where it would lead me.

Click on map to enlarge.

 We were on the hunt for snowshoe hare in the mountains of Pennsylvania.  Unbeknownst to most people including most residents, Pennsylvania has real mountains and genuine wilderness.  The area is called “The Wilds of Pennsylvania” and wild it is. The Wilds encompass an area larger than Yellowstone National Park. Virgin forests, wilderness areas, Elk herds, The Allegheny National Forest and much more are found in The Wilds of Pennsylvania.

Jim relaxing during a fishing trip on
Lake Ontario.

The exact area we were hunting is known as the Rockton Mountain, which is in the Allegheny Mountains and part of the Appalachian Mountain chain. If you drive Interstate-80 in Pennsylvania and see a sign which reads, “Highest point on I-80 East of the Mississippi River ” then you’ll know where I mean, except, don’t go there in winter.  We were off the interstate by several miles.

It was New Year’s Day, the last day of the six-day hare season in Pennsylvania. We'd parked the pick-up truck at a wide spot along U.S. Route 322, also known as the "Rockton Mountain Highway". Jim guided us down a creek named Anderson Creek but pronounced “crick” in this part of PA. Hunters and hounds hiked for the better part of two miles where we found a swinging footbridge.  The beagles wanted none of that narrow bridge but we made it across.

My Mentor, Mr. Jim Taylor, circa 2000.

Jim emerges from a high plateau swamp after an exhausting, snow laden, cold day on The Allegheny High Plateau during the regular snowshoe hare season.  Jim is carrying a Belgium Browning autoloading 12 gauge.

We’d commenced our climb up the mountain in a standing forest called the Moshannon State Forest. The forest floor was covered with an evergreen called mountain Laurel, the state flower. Sometimes erroneously called mountain pink, mountain laurel can be very thick and makes magnificent cover for snowshoe hare. There was no snow on the ground, so finding a track would've been impossible. The air was warm and the ground was damp, scenting conditions would turn out to be good. We would find hare sign which lifted our morale considerably.

Daylight was burning quickly. We agreed if we didn’t start a hare soon we would have to leash the hounds and get out of the woods. Striking a hare at three or four in the afternoon is not a good idea as I have painfully learned over the years since, the hard way.

       I would learn all things snowshoe hare the hard way. Years of cottontail rabbit hunting had not prepared me for snowshoe hare hunting. I was about to find out that hare hunting was basically different than rabbit hunting. Eastern cottontail rabbits run short circles. The hounds seldom get out of hearing.  Cottontails seem to love civilization and are found not far from it. Cottontails have little stamina and after a circle or two will go to ground. Hare will run “big” with the hounds going out of hearing in a matter of seconds and for long periods of time. In Pennsylvania, snowshoe hare are not numerous and are generally found far from that same civilization which cottontails love. Hare can run all day and for many miles. Snowshoe hare seem to love the chase as much as the hounds.

The minutes seemed like hours as I waited for the hare. Doubt kept trying to creep into my mind. Where the heck are the hounds? The hounds were not the problem. These hounds were “perty darn” good with lots of experience and reliability. It was my head filling with anxiety.

  
All of a sudden and to my extreme surprise what should appear out of the thick laurel but a white rabbit.  He was all of 25 yards in front of me and about to take another giant leap into the laurel.  I don’t remember taking the safety off, or lifting the 20-gauge to my shoulder or squeezing the trigger.  I regained consciousness the moment the shotgun went off as the hare was in mid leap.  It quickly dove into the laurel and was gone.   It had disappeared as fast as it appeared, seeming to pick up speed in midair.

      Did I miss?  I was sure I had. I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. In Pennsylvania, and other places for all I know, when you miss a deer you lose your shirttail. Was the same going to be true here with snowshoe hare? Would I endure endless ribbing or worse, ridicule? When I tell this story, I like say the hounds were at least twenty minutes behind the hare and that twenty minutes seemed like two hours as I waited. I don’t mention my shirttail.

Jim, with bird in hand, circa 2006, after a
successful hunt on Game Lands 244. The
hounds, from left to right, are Blacky, Gracie,
Speckles, and Patch. Only Speckles remains
as of this writing. (2017).

After what seemed like an eternity, I could hear the hounds, barely. They were coming closer, their cries never missing a beat, their voices “machine gunning,” hot on the hare‘ s trail. They were very close now. The two hounds appeared out of the laurel, just as suddenly as the hare had, dove back into the laurel, and instantly out they came again. Both hounds had a death grip on the hare. I remember a feeling of reprieve. Relief came over me. I believed the hare had run off after what I felt in my heart was a sure miss.

The hare was kicking like no cottontail I had ever witnessed, but the hounds were not about to let go. I remember feeling uneasy for the hounds as the hare kicked. As I ran to the hounds, I didn’t know how I was going to handle this situation. When I arrived, I tried to get hold of the thrashing back legs while at the same time the hounds were each hanging on for dear life. Finally, the hare stopped kicking for a second and I had a firm grip on both back legs as I let out a yell, “No!”

Jim on a hunt in the Allegheny National

Forest in 2008.

To my surprise both Sugar and Charlie simultaneously let go of the hare.  I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I quickly finished the hare with a swift chop to the back of his neck. He was still kicking as he took his last breath.

Soon both Andy and Jim were on the scene with congratulations. “Looks like a nice big one. A real wall hanger,” they both agreed. Gutting it out never crossed my mind. He was going to be a trophy.

“What do we do now?” Jim asked.

“We should probably get out of the woods before it gets dark,” was Andy’s response.

“Yeah, and go some place to celebrate over a cold one,” was my reliable solution to any dilemma.

After the long walk down the mountain, back across the foot bridge and a short ride, the three of us were entering an establishment called the Gateway Tavern. Sitting on a couple of bar stools were two guys who asked if we were flintlock hunters as we took our seats.

With a quick puff of the chest the answer was, “No, we are snowshoe hare hunters.”

The first bar stool guy queried, “did ya have any luck?”

“Yeah, we sure did!” Was my quick answer.

“Was it all white?” The second bar stool guy asked.

“Yep, it is,” the response from all three of us.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a white hare.” the second bar stool guy proclaimed.

“Do ya wanna see it?” Without waiting for a response out the door I went.  Within seconds the beautiful white hare was being passed around for all to see.  That’s how we celebrated.

During a hunt near the Byromtown Swamp on
December 28, 2006, the late Jack Hughes and Jim
take a coffee break.

The next year Jim harvested a trophy snowshoe hare with the scenario being almost the same. With Jim beaming and all smiles he asked, “How are we going to celebrate?”

My quick and immediate response, of course, was, “Why by stopping at the Gateway, it’s tradition.”

With that, we were off and within a couple of hours we were entering our new most favorite spot. You’re not going to believe this, but there, sitting on those same two bar-stools, as one full year before, were those same two guys.

“Hey!  How ya doin’?  Snowshoe hare huntin’ huh?  Did ya have any luck this year?”  The interrogation starting upon immediate recognition.

A still beaming Jim proclaimed, “Sure did!” 

“Do ya wanna see it?”  I ask quickly, instantly realizing history was about to repeat itself.

“No, no,” they more than insisted, as I was on my way out the door.  “We saw last years,” they were almost yelling, stopping me in my tracks.

We returned to the Rockton Mountain for several more years without much success and very little celebration. We would see old sign frozen in the ice and snow as if locked in time. Sometimes the hounds would cold trail a little but with no real chases. The red gods of hunting had smiled down on us two times in a row which is apparently the limit.

       We changed altitude and we changed latitude. We changed our attitude. We moved further North and to higher elevations with the same results. We eventually started hunting hare at other locations on the High Plateau of The Alleghenies and in the Allegheny National Forest. It was here that I became “hooked on hare.”  After all these many years I am still obsessed.

The hare pictured above is the actual hare and the actual pose I remember as I pulled the trigger that fateful day. Mr Hare has been a respected and revered guest in my home for more than 40 years. 

I didn’t know at the time that snowshoe hare were “magnificent or omnipotent.”  After hundreds of hunts, countless sightings, thousands of hours listening to the beagles run hare and a few kills I came to respect and honor this noble and glorious lagomorph.  According to my ratty old coverless Random House Dictionary, “magnificent” is defined as, “making a splendid appearance or show, extraordinarily fine, noble or awe-inspiring", all of which pertains to the snowshoe hare. Omnipotent is defined as, “having unlimited authority or power.” The snowshoe hare has had a power over me all these years. The Architect of the universe went out of His way when He made the varying hare extremely extraordinary.  I’ve been hooked on hare since that first real hunt. 

We hunted hare for many years near Marienville.

(Click on map to enlarge.)

        Jim Taylor, almost 80 years young now, is still an athlete and still hunts the Wilds of Pennsylvania and the Allegheny High Plateau. We are friends first, hare hunters foremost and have even caught a couple of fish together. I also consider him my mentor, defined in that old dictionary as “a wise and trusted counselor.” It was Jim who first truly introduced me to snowshoe hare hunting all those many years ago. He got me hooked on hare and I couldn’t be more grateful.  In fact, eternally grateful. 

Jim with bird in hand and hounds at SGL 244.

Jack Hughes (L) and Jim having a little lunch during a hare hunt in the ANF.

Above: Jim, Vic and Joe with hare hounds John and Kandi.

Three pictures above were taken during a hunt with Jim and Vic.

 Above, Jim with Captain Bob Hayner and walleye.

Below, the "seas" were a little rough. This photo was snapped right after the one above.

We fished near Pelee Island, Ontario, Canada.

(Click on map to enlarge)

Jim with walleye during 2011 fishing trip to Marblehead.

 Above the crew. From left to right  starting in back; Jim, Wayne, Captain Bob, Ray, Ron and Dick.

Jim with another big walleye in 2011.

We fished for years as the invited guest of the late Jack Hughes. We fished out of Kendall, NY.

Click on map to enlarge.

 Above, (L-R) Jim Taylor, Jack Hughes, Jim Hanson and Joe Ewing.

Above, Jim (left) and Captain Jack.

Above, Captain Jack Hughes and below another big one.

Above, another big haul.

Below with Jack at the helm, Jim in the right seat while Jim Hanson looks on.

Jim and I have spent many hours hunting the illusive eastern cottontail. This photo was taken a number of years ago judging by the young looking faces.

Jim did a fine job of campaigning.

Above, Jim colludes with bigger than life President Donald J. Trump.

Hunting the Allegheny National Forest, January 2016.

Jim hunting the fields of SGL-244 October 2017.

2017 MAINE HARE HUNT

From the Big Woods of the Allegheny National Forest to the Kennebec River Valley;

MAINE HARE HUNT 2017

October 23-28

 

Three hunters with hounds in the background emerge from their vehicles into a foggy, damp Maine landscape on the first day of the Maine Hare Hunt 2017.

It may have looked like four old worn out hare hunters plodding their way to a local running grounds but in truth it was four veteran members of the Big Woods Hare Hunters of the Allegheny. They were on their annual pilgrimage to the center of the snowshoe hare hunting universe, Maine. Actually, I don’t know about the universe but Maine is certainly the hub of all activity snowshoe hare related.

Kaz places jewelry before launching hounds into a foggy hare cover.

Setting out from the high ground of the Allegheny Plateau on their 850-mile plus journey to the Western Mountains of Maine, four members of the Big Woods Hare Hunters of the Allegheny completed their annual fall pilgrimage to the very heart of snowshoe hare hunting, Pleasant Ridge, Maine. Arriving on Sunday, October 22, the four veteran hare hunters hunted the mountains for six glorious days. Two of those days were not really so glorious. Torrential rains, three inches in one day and heavy rain on another day,  tried to dampen the spirits of the grizzled old hunters but to no avail. Three of the four hunters enjoyed many chances at bagging a varying hare. All hare killed were frozen and carried home for future consumption. The long trip home was uneventful except for heavy rains and high winds during the drive.

Maine certainly has to be considered as the center of snowshoe hare hunting in North America.  Not because of the numbers of snowshoe hare but the sheer numbers of outfitters, guides and hunters located and hunting in the state. Many hundreds of hunting camps and lodges and too many hunting guides to count provide accommodations and guide services to the many hunters who venture into the woods of Maine. Hunting moose and woodcock and everything in between hunters from across the United States and around the world flock to the state of Maine.

One of those such places is the Pine Grove Lodge located in Pleasant Ridge, Maine. The Big Woods Hare Hunters of the Allegheny have been enjoying the services rendered by Pine Grove Lodge for the last fifteen or sixteen years exclusively.

One of those “grizzled old hare hunters” was my son Joe. Joe met us in Portland, Maine having flown in to meet us from his home in Virginia. The Portland International Jetport is located between I-95 and I-295 and is very convenient no matter which highway one uses. Joe took his frozen snowshoe hare home successfully in his checked luggage.

The ceiling was very low high on Johnson Mountain on October 24th. The low visibility didn't seem to hamper the hare hunting. The turbine noise did seem louder at the Bingham Wind Project.

The giant monoliths, although barely visible here, were at times invisible in the heavy cloud cover.
I believe there may be a giant wind tower in this picture but I couldn't prove it.
Heavy rain hung on the trees.
Droplets of water can be seen.

Kaz (L) and Joe, Jr.  ready the hounds for release into the wild before a hunt on a better day in Maine.

A beautiful day for hare hunting.

Sammie hunts on a rock out-cropping on the summit of Johnson Mountain on a very beautiful day in Maine. The giant turbines were certainly quiet with a high sky.

Kaz watches as a snowshoe hare runs up the trail towards him.

Kaz checks the location of his hounds.

Above is a closeup of the hare that was running up the trail in a previous picture.

Above, Andy with a snowshoe hare he harvested during a torrential rainstorm.

(The heavy rain is the excuse for such a poor photo.)

Above, Joe, Jr. skins out on of his many kills while Aero waits for a handout.

Photo complements of J. Kazmarek

Above, the High HareMan checks his hounds location during the hunt on Johnson Mountain, Maine.

Below, the hare were already chewing on the bark of some trees. Normally this scene is only seen in the winter as food sources are depleted for the hare.

Above photo complements of J. Kazmarek

There may be a hare in this picture if I could just find him.

The trail to the top of Johnson Mountain. There must have been an antenna at the summit as anchors could be seen drilled into the rock.