Post by ibugly on Sept 23, 2009 0:33:28 GMT -6
Have you ever been hunting with a person you know that any trip you take with him will not be uneventful? This is the story of a guy born 100-200 years too late stuck in a more modern world which he chose to have no holds on him as far as his adventures go. Let’s just call the guy JB. This happened decades ago in a place I've since forgotten where.
Two men decided to go out Squirrel hunting and both took their son went with them. It was an overnight trip one that they did several times a year hunting small game and deer. The afternoon of the second day they decided to turn their attention more to scouting to deer sign for future hunts a month or two away. So they found an area and decided two would go one direction and two another than meet back in a couple hours.
When they came back they talked about what they had seen and one of them said the only thing I saw was a young coon maybe a third grown a few minutes ago. Well the wheels start turning in JB’s head and he gets the idea to go catch it. The other three decided well the coons probably long gone but we’ll go back anyway and have a look see. They get to the place where the coon was spotted which was a downed log and JB say’s I bet he’s denned up in there let’s see if we can get him out. By then the others were beginning to have their doubts and second thoughts.
But JB just wasn’t the type of guy to take no for an answer not that anyone would have said it. So they hunt a long pole to begin sticking through the log and another guy on the other end is holding a thick coat over the hole waiting on the coon to come out. Coons react to things in strange manners this one goes up and has a look see at the person poking the stick. Kinda like Buggs Bunny then goes back in the log. By then JB is more determined than ever to catch the coon and gets the coat himself and stands at the end of the log. Well I supposed the coon about had it’s feel of his den being poked around in and decided to come on out.
The coon crawls into the jacket and JB clamps down on his new found prize. The squalling and a carrying on was getting kind of loud. Finally the coon and JB had both quieted down somewhat and one of them asked JB. JB do you have the coon or does the coon have you? JB carried his new prize back to the vehicle and stuffs him inside a few more clothes for the ride home. JB figured on trying to tame him you see. Over the course of the next couple months JB and the coon had their daily disagreements with the coon refusing to accept his new conditions. The coon got out of it’s pen and found it’s freedom once more. JB said a window was left opening in an old van he was keeping him in. Or maybe JB just decided he’s met his match.
This was a man I knew all my life till he died about 8 years ago. He could make his own weapons be it Muzzle Loader, making gun stocks and checkering, engraving, or whatever, made his own knives, painted oil pictures as good as any artist, What he wanted he crafted himself. He didn’t quite fit in with today’s rigid world and a lot of persons didn‘t understand him. 200 years ago he would have likely been one of the first settlers into an area likely doing this several times in his life. One thing about it no hunting trip with him wasn’t without an adventure of some kind. He just wouldn’t put up with there not being one.
This story was just one of several of his spur of the moment adventures I got to be a part of. JB was one of a kind. Next to my dad he taught me the most I learned about hunting and some things as well about about life even though he was very cynical on some matters. Robert Service best described ones like him in one of his poems. "The men who don't fit in".
Two men decided to go out Squirrel hunting and both took their son went with them. It was an overnight trip one that they did several times a year hunting small game and deer. The afternoon of the second day they decided to turn their attention more to scouting to deer sign for future hunts a month or two away. So they found an area and decided two would go one direction and two another than meet back in a couple hours.
When they came back they talked about what they had seen and one of them said the only thing I saw was a young coon maybe a third grown a few minutes ago. Well the wheels start turning in JB’s head and he gets the idea to go catch it. The other three decided well the coons probably long gone but we’ll go back anyway and have a look see. They get to the place where the coon was spotted which was a downed log and JB say’s I bet he’s denned up in there let’s see if we can get him out. By then the others were beginning to have their doubts and second thoughts.
But JB just wasn’t the type of guy to take no for an answer not that anyone would have said it. So they hunt a long pole to begin sticking through the log and another guy on the other end is holding a thick coat over the hole waiting on the coon to come out. Coons react to things in strange manners this one goes up and has a look see at the person poking the stick. Kinda like Buggs Bunny then goes back in the log. By then JB is more determined than ever to catch the coon and gets the coat himself and stands at the end of the log. Well I supposed the coon about had it’s feel of his den being poked around in and decided to come on out.
The coon crawls into the jacket and JB clamps down on his new found prize. The squalling and a carrying on was getting kind of loud. Finally the coon and JB had both quieted down somewhat and one of them asked JB. JB do you have the coon or does the coon have you? JB carried his new prize back to the vehicle and stuffs him inside a few more clothes for the ride home. JB figured on trying to tame him you see. Over the course of the next couple months JB and the coon had their daily disagreements with the coon refusing to accept his new conditions. The coon got out of it’s pen and found it’s freedom once more. JB said a window was left opening in an old van he was keeping him in. Or maybe JB just decided he’s met his match.
This was a man I knew all my life till he died about 8 years ago. He could make his own weapons be it Muzzle Loader, making gun stocks and checkering, engraving, or whatever, made his own knives, painted oil pictures as good as any artist, What he wanted he crafted himself. He didn’t quite fit in with today’s rigid world and a lot of persons didn‘t understand him. 200 years ago he would have likely been one of the first settlers into an area likely doing this several times in his life. One thing about it no hunting trip with him wasn’t without an adventure of some kind. He just wouldn’t put up with there not being one.
This story was just one of several of his spur of the moment adventures I got to be a part of. JB was one of a kind. Next to my dad he taught me the most I learned about hunting and some things as well about about life even though he was very cynical on some matters. Robert Service best described ones like him in one of his poems. "The men who don't fit in".