Wolf Creek Farewell

Last Saturday, I sat on the verge of a muddy road at Wolf Creek Hunting Club. It winds around places called Goat Pen, Round House and Swivel Chair. It was the last Saturday of ‘dog season’, and I was hoping Kate, the Bluetick hound, would jump a deer and chase it in my direction. I could hear Kate and her ‘driver’, Jerry, in the pine thicket. Jerry whooped. Kate bayed. Honestly, it sounded like they were copycatting each other.

Looking toward Swivel Chair.

This is the second year my husband, Rick, and I have hunted at Wolf Creek. Deer hunting with dogs is unique, some might say dying out. People have been hunting cooperatively using dogs since before the dawn of time, so I think it will go on somewhere. It’s been updated with technology, just like everything else. Pickup trucks take dogs, drivers and standers to their spots. Hand-held CB radios keep everybody in touch with what’s going on. Tracking collars help the drivers find the dogs. Rick and I can text each other while we’re in separate locations.

This ain’t your father’s Mammoth Hunt!

It’s been a lot of fun getting to know the members, and the dogs this past year. Some of the hunters at Wolf Creek have become friends. The club, just like any, has its factions, but they all seem to get along. The end of this season was especially poignant for us. Our relocation to Dallas, Texas, will make it just too much of a commute. I doubt we’ll be able to find anything like it out there.

Since I knew this would be our last season, I took a lot of pictures, some of which I’ll share below.

Seven-year-old Destiny hunted the stand with her great grandfather.

Jerry and his grandson, Tanner, on the way to a stand.

On this drive, I actually got a shot, even though I was imitating a beacon on a hill.

There were misty days.

There were sunny days

 

Kate, the Bluetick, became Rick’s special friend, mostly because of the granola bars in his pack. He helped her put up a Facebook page late in the season.

Rick played pipes at the memorial service for one of the club members who passed away.

Rick and Anna Claire warming up by the fire in the club house.

Wolf Creek Panorama

Hunting deer with dogs has been an enjoyable experience, and one I’m glad I didn’t miss. The Club may be facing some challenges as the requirements of the land owner change, but I hope they’ll be able to continue this traditional way of hunting for many years to come.

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Call of the Wild

A good number of people in Alabama are hunters. While they are concentrated mostly in rural areas, some of us suburbanites hear the call of the wild, too. My husband, Rick, and I are just such people.

I’ve been off work this week, and was able to head down to Wolf Creek Hunting Club with Rick Wednesday afternoon. Most of the vibrant leaves of autumn have fallen, leaving a crunchy carpet. It made for a noisy walk back to his ladder stand on the creek.

It was nice sitting there, but I didn’t see anything, not even a squirrel or coyote. As it started getting dark, I realized the only flashlight I had was on my iPhone. Now, I have a pretty good sense of direction, and my husband wouldn’t let me stay lost in the woods for long, but I pulled out my trusty iPhone, using the compass app to gauge the general direction of the road, just in case. Things have changed a lot since I was a Girl Scout.

On our way home, I remembered that I needed to pick up a bottle of wine, so Rick turned into a supermarket close to our house. The parking lot was packed. I got out and went in, leaving him to find a spot to park, or circle around until I came out.

Let me tell you, there is nothing that will stop conversation in a suburban grocery store quicker than a woman walking in, wearing camouflage. It’s not like you could hear crickets chirruping, but the din died down significantly. Not one person would look me in the eye. People shifted their gaze, staring intently at the floor or studying their manicures. Bambi killer, I could imagine some of them thinking, (not that I’ve been that lucky) but hey, aren’t you having ground beef for dinner?

The cute young girl at the checkout asked if I was old enough to buy wine. Ha! I took off my cap to showed her the grey hair.

“Highlights,” she said.

I told her how old I was, and, bless her, she said I didn’t look it.

“It’s the camo.” I replied.

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