RJ 03-04

Uncle “NoPass” Ted decided that we had to hunt Tuskegee National Forest last Saturday. No amount of arguing about distance and convenience could change his mind.
He thought he held the aces. They were His rabbit dogs. But Brag and I put our foot down. We knew who would have to return to Tuskegee to pick up his dogs in the event they got “lost” . Getting lost is the way Uncle NoPass phrased it when his dogs “which ain’t never run no deer” run a deer.

Bright and early, Saturday morning we pulled into Tuskegee as NoPass told us again how big the rabbits were and how fast they ran on some long ago hunt in the national forest, some time after serving three years, nine months, and twenty two days without a pass in the South Pacific. Hey, he tells them, I just repeat them.

Dusty, from the January 20th post, and his dad came along. There are rumors that the names of Brag, Uncle NoPass and Chuck were being banned by his mother. It was bad enough, according to her, when all Dusty could think about was deer hunting, a fairly solitary sport. But now, not only was it All Rabbit, All the time, he’d started talking with the very strong southern drawl and butchered sentences of Uncle NoPass and myself. He really got into it when he told her he wanted a couple of bitches like Uncle NoPass had.

The three dogs, led by Kate, ran a flawless first race. Overrunning a couple of turns , they recovered nicely to keep the race going. There was the loud boom of a 12ga and Dusty came down the trail swinging a nice buck rabbit.

The next race helped the day to quickly descend into the outer rings of a rabbit hunter’s hell. The dogs were cold trailing when a deer jumped up in front of them. The startled deer took off pursued by all three of the young dogs who had totally forgotten their manners.

They raced up the bottom and into a large bowl shaped bottom. Brag and I could see, from our vantage point on the ridge, the deer bounding through the scrub oak and blackberry thickets with the dogs in hot pursuit. Up the steep incline, the deer topped the ridge and started down the other side while I raced up trail to break the dogs off. Just as they topped the ridge, I did too, from the other side. All three dogs briefly dropped, letting me get my hand on Lady’s collar . The other two took off, still in pursuit of the now distant deer.

Brag was scolding Lady about her wayward ways as I led her down the hill when a rabbit bolted from a bush only a few yards ahead of us. I slipped the leash at Lady’s pleading and the race was on.

Uncle NoPass and I worked our way back up the bottom from where our truck was parked and around the end of the ridge trying to position ourselves for where the rabbit would circle. The rabbit proved too much for Lady by herself and she shortly lost it.

NoPass started up the steep hill at a slant as I trailed along with the dog on a braided nylon rope. I asked NoPass why didn’t we just go back along the creek to the truck. He drawled “I served three years, nine months and twenty two days in the South Pacific without a pass, I know the way back.” I could only trail along as we moved up to the top of the ridge and its breathtaking view of the valley that lay before it.

Uncle NoPass paused and looked out over the winter woods below us, before starting down at a slant away from the truck. I trailed along unable to persuade him that we needed to head in the other direction despite the three years nine months and twenty two days in the South Pacific without a pass.

About ¾ of the way down, he looped back toward the truck. Brag could see our orange vests as we moved across the face of the steep hill and moved the truck to intercept the point where we would come out of the woods, onto the road.

Uncle NoPass stepped out of the woods onto the dirt road only 10 yards or so from the truck and turned to me with a look of triumph and exclaimed “ See, I told you. Stick with me, I’d get you back to the truck. I spent three years, nine months and twenty two days without a pass in the South Pacific…….”