ROCKTON
MOUNTAIN BOYS
VENTURE TO THE
ALLEGHENY
NATIONAL FOREST
The Rockton Mountain Boys chapter
of The Big Woods Hare Hunters of the Allegheny made their annual visit to the
Allegheny National Forest to snowshoe hare hunt with the local division on
Tuesday, February 18, 2020.
Three members from the Rockton
Mountain Boys, formerly DuBois Chapter, Jim Taylor, Jim Jeffers and Mary Rhin,
met with local division members, Jim “Kaz” and Barbara Kazmarek and Joe and
Brenda Ewing, for a hearty breakfast at the world-famous Kelly Hotel in
downtown Marienville, Pennsylvania.
Members include
starting at left and going clockwise are: Jim Taylor, Jim Jeffers, Kaz
Kazmarek, Barbara Kazmarek, Marty Rhin, Brenda Ewing and Joe Ewing.
Although the weather
failed to cooperate with wind and a deluge of rain outside, a hearty helping of
fellowship and camaraderie followed breakfast inside. The extended breakfast
meeting was enhanced by member Jim Jeffers’ recount of his African Safari to the
country of South Africa. Members were intrigued to hear about his adventures
and asked many questions.
Once the rains slowed to a
slight sprinkle the members moved to a location deep inside the Allegheny
National Forest where four hare hounds were released in an attempt to locate
the elusive varying hare. The beagles raised their voices in chorus a time or
two, however no real chase ensued.
Members of the
Big Woods Hare Hunters of the Allegheny from left to right are: The High
HareMan,
Veteran Hare
Hunter Jim Jeffers, Veteran Hare Hunter and Mentor to the Big Woods Hare
Hunters of the Allegheny Jim Taylor and Veteran Hare Hunter Mary Rhin.
After the hunt a variety
of homemade specialty baked goods were presented by Member Brenda Ewing for the
enjoyment of the veteran hare hunters.
The outing ended with a surprise
visit from an ANF Forester who stopped to chat. The ANF Foresters presentation proved
to be both informative and interesting. The Rockton Mountain Boys promised to
return again this season for another attempt at finding an elusive snowshoe
hare.
RECOLLECTIONS OF
A ROCKTON MOUNTAIN HARE HUNT:
Written and photographed
by Joe Ewing, High HareMan of The Big Woods Hare Hunters of the Allegheny.
Portions of this commemoration
were published in the March 2015 issue of THE RABBIT HUNTER magazine, February 2015 issue of Hounds & Hunting
magazine and the Better Beagling magazine in February of 2015 with the
title, MY MENTOR.
I remember the hunt like it was
yesterday. It was back in the seventies, forty some 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
pedigree 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. We also
hunted deer and all the other game available. Things have changed a great
deal since way back then.
Mr. James R. Taylor, known
by everyone as “Jim” and also a co-worker from DuBois, Pennsylvania, invited Andy and me on this hunt. Jim guaranteed there were
snowshoe hare on the “Rockton Mountain” and strongly recommended we go after
them and today was the day. I felt privileged to be invited.
Jim was a real sportsman and outdoors man and still is to this day. Jim
had been a beagler at one time in his life and was feeding a couple of bird
dogs as I remember. I had been on snowshoe hare hunts before with other hunters
and their dogs without much success. Today would be my first actual hunt
for the magnificent and omnipotent snowshoe hare. Little did I know what I
was getting into and where it would lead me.
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.
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 ever drive on
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 had parked the pick-up truck at a
wide spot in the main road next to a mountain stream called Anderson
Creek. Jim guided us down the creek, pronounced “crick” in this part of
PA, 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.
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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.
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We’d started 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 called Mountain Pink, laurel can be very thick
and makes magnificent cover for snowshoe hare. There was no snow on the
ground, so finding a track would be impossible. The air was warm and the
ground was damp, scenting conditions would turn out to be good. We would
find some 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 most things about snowshoe hare hunting 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 hares 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 knew
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? 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.
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 suddenly appeared out of the laurel, just 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!”
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Jim on a hunt in the Allegheny National
Forest in 2008.
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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.
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 even
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.
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| 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. |
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Jim is more than 80 years young now, still
an athlete and still hunts the Wilds of Pennsylvania, the Allegheny High
Plateau and the ANF.
Jim and I are friends first, hare hunters
foremost and have even caught a couple of fish together. I 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.
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Jim with bird in hand and hounds at SGL 244.
Rockton's First Settler: Copied from annals of the DuBois Area Historical Society. http://duboishs.com/
Rockton’s first settler was
John Brubaker (1810-1888), who moved to Clearfield County from Snyder County
in 1839 with his wife, Barbara, and six children. He purchased 100 acres of
woodland for $310 and eventually accumulated 600 acres. He built the first
sawmill in Union Township and was the first to ship lumber east.
Rockton is located in Brubaker’s
first land purchase. First named Moore’s Mills and later Rockton Mills, the
area became Rockton because of a huge rock along the road east of town. When
the stagecoach came over the mountain from Clearfield with the mail, the
passengers would argue about the weight of the large rock. Some claimed it
weighted a ton, so the town became Rock-ton.
The nearest
school was at Luthersburg four miles away. Brubaker and some neighbor men cut
a path up through the country for the purpose of taking a survey for the
first road along Anderson Creek. The path became the present road to
Clearfield.
Brubaker was
ordained as a Mennonite minister in 1842 and as a bishop in 1850 for the
Rockton Mennonite Church. John and Barbara sold the land to the church
trustees to build the first meetinghouse in Rockton in 1860.
Rockton,
Pa.
The
name Rockton originated from a time when the stage coach would come over the
mountain from Clearfield with the mail, and passengers would argue about the
weight of a large rock along the route. Some said it weighed a ton, so the
town became Rock-ton.
Rockton
had its own school, weekly newspaper, several stores, three churches, a
number of mills, both grist and lumber, and an emergency landing field for
air mail pilots. Farms did well in the shelter of the surrounding mountains.
Rockton
was divided in two, upper and lower. What is known as Rockton today was begun
through lumbering by people such as John Brubaker. In 1885, Jason E. Kirk and
David W. Kirk built a steam-powered feed mill.
Lower
Rockton began in 1837 with a saw mill and grist mill built by Jason Kirk and
Jeremiah Moore. It sits along Anderson creek as did the wool mill of William
Johnson. The Kirk mill was designed to provide adequate height and space at
the front of the building for men and horse-drawn wagons to load and unload
products.
The
greatest disaster for Rockton was a tornado on September 14, 1945, beginning
in the Coal Hill area of Brady Township. Many buildings were destroyed with
the Hollopeter Poultry Farm receiving most of the damage. The William Irwin
house was moved several inches off of its foundation and a barn demolished.
The storm cleared a path approximately 100 feet wide and 8 miles long. After
the storm crossed Anderson Creek and moved up Montgomery Run, it dispersed.
No one was injured.
Today,
Rockton has a post office, two churches, ( St. John’s Lutheran and the Church
of the Brethren), and two shops.
Gene M. Aravich
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WRITTEN BY 
