- You were going to get stuck raking leaves at some point so get ready
- School was back in session like it or not.
- High School football was in full swing
- The days were getting shorter
- Christmas was just around the corner
But growing up the one thing I knew I looked forward to the most about fall was opening day of deer season! I know this may not seem like anything to many of you reading this, but to me and the folks I was hanging around this was a wondrous event. We often said that opening day should be a holiday.
Back then, the first day of North Carolina's "Eastern Deer Season" was the second or third Monday of October. (according to how it fell on the calendar.) Monday of course was a "school day" so this took some working around. The group we hunted with would all take off of work on that Monday and hunt from daylight till dark. Every year I desperately wanted to say out of school and hunt on opening day. This would require a note from my parents excusing me, but there was one catch. It had to be a legit reason. Therein lied the problem. My Dad was / is known to be a devout, church go'in, Bible carrying, foot wash'n, God fearing, man of God and would never lie to the teachers and administration of the Bladen County School System. It had to do with one of the Ten Commandments, teaching his son to be an honest person and those pesky principles. All of the above stated characteristics are admirable traits to possess mind you, it just caused a major problem for the son of said man that wanted to play hooky from school to go deer hunting. My Dad, the honest man he was / is, had a great idea. He wrote a note to my school that simply stated this: "I kept Joe Mancos out of school on Oct. XX, 198X to help me." In those days I just thought it was great because I was able to stay out of school, but now that I look back at it, it was a simple stroke of genius. He never lied. My Dad had kept me out of school, and I helped him handle the dogs. If by accident a deer was to wonder within shotgun range and I shot it, well that was not his fault. A funny thing, there must have been quite a few dad's out there that needed help, because there always seemed to be a good many young folk out there playing hooky (helping out) also.
If you haven't figured it out, we hunted with a "club." A hunting club is mostly just a group of folks that all chipped in money to lease a plot or plots of land for the purpose of hunting. In our case this was timber/paper company land in White Oak NC. We hunted deer two different ways. One way was from tree stands. A common way of hunting deer, one would scout an area to put a stand where deer are likely to be. Places like beading areas, near water or a food source were all good choices. This is not what we did on opening day. We hunted as a group in a different way. We ran deer with hounds. This practice is frowned upon if not illegal in many areas now, but it was a widespread practice in those days and is still a legal way to harvest deer in a good bit of eastern NC. I promise you it is quite a bit more sporting than you might think. One man would turn out a pack of hounds. These hounds would hunt around until one of them found the trail of a deer. This dog would bark and the rest of the pack would join in and "trail the deer." Deer are pretty dang smart and are not going to wait around and let a pack of smelly dogs catch up with them, so the deer gets up and walks/runs away from the distant noisy/smelly hounds. All of this leads up to the magical moment when the hounds come across where the deer had been laying. This is when the hounds are said to have "jumped" the deer and the noise that comes from the hounds "running" the deer is nothing short of music. A very popular southern rock band in the 70's call it "Swamp Music." Very similar to the sounds coon hounds make when running a coon, just louder, faster and unlike the coon, deer don't climb trees. The sound an average pack of hounds could make is amazing. It made the woods sound alive. When the hounds would make a turn and start in your direction it seemed like the woods would vibrate. Your heart rate would pick up and you would be aware of every little sound around you. I remember many times spending the morning cold, bored, and wishing I would just hear or see something, but ....the minute the hounds "jumped" and headed in your direction, you would be standing at ready with your shotgun in both hands in a "high ready" position. You would forget that it was cold, raining, or anything that was bothering you prior to that moment. An even louder, heart pounding hound experience is bear hunting with hounds, but we will leave this for another story. We ran dogs every Saturday and most Tuesday mornings the folks who didn't have to work or go to school made a morning run. Every other day was strictly tree stand hunting or "still hunting."
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| Age 9 with my second deer |
How is running dogs sporting, you might ask. Simple, deer are much faster than most hounds. In those days, you could only shoot deer with antlers, or "Bucks". The big bucks are smarter than MOST hounds. I might get some flack from my hound handling buddies about this one, but it is true. Big bucks don't get big by being stupid. The big old granddads would circle around and loose the hounds in a group of does. As stated above deer are fast and no matter how good you think you are, it's not easy to hit a deer running at the speed of sound through the swamp even with a shotgun.
Most of the time the only shot you had was as the deer crossed a narrow hand cut dirt road. We seldom had enough people to cover all the area we were hunting so we had to put out "standers" just out of shotgun distance of each other in the most likely places the deer would cross. This is tricky at best. It seemed that the big boys knew where the standers were and would cross right in the middle and if they were fast they could safely cross the road. One thing you had to stay alert for was the oldest and wisest of bucks would "slip out" and get away from the dogs and cross out of where you were hunting at the first sound of a hound, thus giving you no warning and catching you off guard when you were not paying as much attention. You had to stay ready. Like I said, it's not as easy as it may sound. To borrow and paraphrase a story from the famous southern comic Jerry Clower, "give everything a sporting chance." The deer was given a sporting chance. Sometimes we would use as many as 15 or more hounds, but at least the deer had the option of turning around and "whooping" all those dogs if he wanted to. It's strictly left up to the deer.
Like most "hunting clubs" we had a meeting place. It was sort of a hunting camp, in that there was a place you could bunk the night before, but it was mostly a meeting place before the hunt to plan and a place to skin, clean and butcher the deer after the hunt. There was running water and a "skinning shed." This served as a back woods butcher shop. Everyone who hunted that day that wanted to take meat home put their name in the hat. After all the deer harvested that day were butchered, all of the meet was put into equal piles. Each name was called and that person would be given a pile picked at random by the "blind man" (person not looking at the piles so it would be fair). The person that killed a deer had the choice of the back straps or a ham. The club I currently hunt with still uses a practice similar to this.
I remember so many things about this group of folks and could tell many stories, but what I remember and miss the most are the people. The things that come to my mind when remembering hunting back then, has nothing to do with deer or hounds. There where families that hunted with that group. Some of the families had three generations hunting some Saturdays. I could name quite a few of the folks that used to hunt with that group, but I'm sure I would leave a good many out, so I will not try to name them all. I will try to remember a few of the grandfather type figures that I respected a great deal and they helped teach me how to be a sportsman and a gentleman. My Dad told me at an early age that the biggest compliment one man could pay to another was to call him a true "Gentleman." There was Mr. Shaw that always had a joke or story for me along with an apple in his pocket he always gave me. There was Mr. Penny, Mr. Hall, Mr. West, Mr Williams, Mr. Knox, Mr. Sholar (there were actually a few in that family) all "True Gentlemen". I really looked forward to hunting every weekend, but I think one of the things I looked forward to the most, was being exposed to these people. These fine folks watched me grow up and in more ways than one, helped raise me during the course of each hunting season.
I will never forget the weaponry used by the hunters I grew up around. Every good deer hunter back then needed a rifle to still hunt with and a shot gun to dog hunt with. Since we are talking about dog hunting I'll discuss the shotguns I remember. My first shotgun when I was 8 years old was a side by side Stevens/Savage 12 gauge double barrel 26 inch barrel chambered in 3 inch. I later graduated to a Remington 870 pump and much later an auto loader, but sometimes I miss the old side by side. Some of the more notable scatter guns I remember are Remington 1100's one of the most reliable gas operated auto loaders ever made. My dad and his brother both had one chambered in 3 inch. Many of the guys used Remington, Mossberg, or Winchester pump action or auto loading guns. The shotgun I remember most was carried by a few of these gentlemen was the Browning Auto 5. I loved everything about that old humpback from it's looks, it's history to the distinctive sound it made when fired. The Auto 5 was the first successful auto loading shotgun ever invented way back in the late 1800s to early 1900's by a genius named John Moses Browning. It operated off the long recoil principle and the friction rings had to be adjusted to the size load you were going to use. The shotgun was made until the late 1990's with very little change to the design. Some folks prefer the ones made prior to 1976 made in Belgium. The ones made in Japan after 1975 were also fine firearms that steel duck loads could be fired through and the later ones had interchangeable choke tubes. Browning now makes the modern A5 that has the looks of the Auto 5 but is an inertia based action that works completely different (much like the Benelli action) and is a fine all around do everything shot gun. I have always heard folks who owned Brownings (and folks who wanted to) say that the old Auto 5 was the "Cadillac" of shotguns. I still believe that to be true.
These men all used CB radios to communicate with each other. The folks handling the dogs would keep up with where their dogs were, as well as inform everyone else what was happening. They had colorful "handles" like my dad was "Square/Circle, his brother Don was "Crawdad." There where many worth remembering such as Catfish, Moon Runner, Corn Grinder, High Pocket, Desert Fox, Duck, The Green Hornet, and The Blue Goose, just to name a few.
I remember so many things about this group of folks and could tell many stories, but what I remember and miss the most are the people. The things that come to my mind when remembering hunting back then, has nothing to do with deer or hounds. There where families that hunted with that group. Some of the families had three generations hunting some Saturdays. I could name quite a few of the folks that used to hunt with that group, but I'm sure I would leave a good many out, so I will not try to name them all. I will try to remember a few of the grandfather type figures that I respected a great deal and they helped teach me how to be a sportsman and a gentleman. My Dad told me at an early age that the biggest compliment one man could pay to another was to call him a true "Gentleman." There was Mr. Shaw that always had a joke or story for me along with an apple in his pocket he always gave me. There was Mr. Penny, Mr. Hall, Mr. West, Mr Williams, Mr. Knox, Mr. Sholar (there were actually a few in that family) all "True Gentlemen". I really looked forward to hunting every weekend, but I think one of the things I looked forward to the most, was being exposed to these people. These fine folks watched me grow up and in more ways than one, helped raise me during the course of each hunting season.
I will never forget the weaponry used by the hunters I grew up around. Every good deer hunter back then needed a rifle to still hunt with and a shot gun to dog hunt with. Since we are talking about dog hunting I'll discuss the shotguns I remember. My first shotgun when I was 8 years old was a side by side Stevens/Savage 12 gauge double barrel 26 inch barrel chambered in 3 inch. I later graduated to a Remington 870 pump and much later an auto loader, but sometimes I miss the old side by side. Some of the more notable scatter guns I remember are Remington 1100's one of the most reliable gas operated auto loaders ever made. My dad and his brother both had one chambered in 3 inch. Many of the guys used Remington, Mossberg, or Winchester pump action or auto loading guns. The shotgun I remember most was carried by a few of these gentlemen was the Browning Auto 5. I loved everything about that old humpback from it's looks, it's history to the distinctive sound it made when fired. The Auto 5 was the first successful auto loading shotgun ever invented way back in the late 1800s to early 1900's by a genius named John Moses Browning. It operated off the long recoil principle and the friction rings had to be adjusted to the size load you were going to use. The shotgun was made until the late 1990's with very little change to the design. Some folks prefer the ones made prior to 1976 made in Belgium. The ones made in Japan after 1975 were also fine firearms that steel duck loads could be fired through and the later ones had interchangeable choke tubes. Browning now makes the modern A5 that has the looks of the Auto 5 but is an inertia based action that works completely different (much like the Benelli action) and is a fine all around do everything shot gun. I have always heard folks who owned Brownings (and folks who wanted to) say that the old Auto 5 was the "Cadillac" of shotguns. I still believe that to be true.
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| Age 16 the Saturday I killed two Bucks in one day |
These men all used CB radios to communicate with each other. The folks handling the dogs would keep up with where their dogs were, as well as inform everyone else what was happening. They had colorful "handles" like my dad was "Square/Circle, his brother Don was "Crawdad." There where many worth remembering such as Catfish, Moon Runner, Corn Grinder, High Pocket, Desert Fox, Duck, The Green Hornet, and The Blue Goose, just to name a few.
The club had a only a few strict rules that I can remember.
Safe gun handling was always one of biggest the things I remember. There where no exceptions to this rule. I never remember an incident, or even a close call. Mistakes, involving safety, made by young hunters were quickly corrected by any adult close by.
Always follow the wildlife laws. I know of a father that called the "game warden" to report his young son's mistake of killing a doe out of season. The same father called the same NC Wildlife officer to report his own mistake a few years latter. This father I am speaking of is my Dad.
Drinking was never permitted before or during activities with firearms.
There were some rules that were strongly implied but none the less enforced. Respect the land and the animals. Treat everyone with respect.
I still look forward to opening day of deer season. I still get that adrenaline rush and the hair stands up on the back of my neck when the dogs "jump" or when the big buck walks out when I'm in my tree stand. I currently hunt with a fine group of gentleman/sportsmen that I enjoy being around.... but, most of the old crowd we used to hunt with has either passed away, quit hunting for one reason or another or like me, moved away. As much as I love hunting now, I feel very much like my old friend Mac Shaw when he said, "I would give almost anything for just one more Saturday in White Oak Swamp with the old gang." That about sums it up Brother, I wholeheartedly agree. Oh and by the way... I still think opening day should be a national holiday.
Safe gun handling was always one of biggest the things I remember. There where no exceptions to this rule. I never remember an incident, or even a close call. Mistakes, involving safety, made by young hunters were quickly corrected by any adult close by.
Always follow the wildlife laws. I know of a father that called the "game warden" to report his young son's mistake of killing a doe out of season. The same father called the same NC Wildlife officer to report his own mistake a few years latter. This father I am speaking of is my Dad.
Drinking was never permitted before or during activities with firearms.
There were some rules that were strongly implied but none the less enforced. Respect the land and the animals. Treat everyone with respect.
I still look forward to opening day of deer season. I still get that adrenaline rush and the hair stands up on the back of my neck when the dogs "jump" or when the big buck walks out when I'm in my tree stand. I currently hunt with a fine group of gentleman/sportsmen that I enjoy being around.... but, most of the old crowd we used to hunt with has either passed away, quit hunting for one reason or another or like me, moved away. As much as I love hunting now, I feel very much like my old friend Mac Shaw when he said, "I would give almost anything for just one more Saturday in White Oak Swamp with the old gang." That about sums it up Brother, I wholeheartedly agree. Oh and by the way... I still think opening day should be a national holiday.
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| Age 42 many years later. Different place different time, same feeling. |
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