Grapes, grapes and more grapes

I’ve always enjoyed hunting coons when they are feeding in wild grapes at this time of year. Grape-feeding coon provide a challenge for the locating tree dog. Coons typically climb the grapevine or climb the tree containing grapevines and then feed all over the tree, often coming down in a different location. They also stay up there feeding for long periods of time and leaving very little scent on the ground for the dog to work. The area I’m hunting this year has an abundance of wild grapes. In fact, in all my years of hunting I’ve never seen wild grapes in the quantities that I’m seeing here and the coon are feeding on them early.

Hoss loaded into the crate on my 4-wheeler on command at about seven o’clock last night and we headed up the mountain to try a trail that angles south along the north/south laying ridge to the west of the cabin. According to Coon Hunting 101, it was one of those picture-perfect nights here; damp with drizzling rain, dark due to heavy cloud cover and deathly still. Hunting mid-week when the weekenders are back home in Charlotte, Winston-Salem, Raleigh or wherever provides the kind of isolation I enjoy. A solitary cabin light twinkled on the face of the mountain to the north as we headed up the trail to our hunting spot. The mountain tops out at about 4200 feet elevation and the spot I’d chosen consists of a “bench” lying about halfway up. We were hunting at about 3200 feet according to the Garmin.

We rode the Suzuki about 100 yards on the trail which drops fairly steeply before banking right and leveling out. I opened the door to the crate, turned on the blinker on Hoss’ collar and the hunt was on. I checked my gear, especially the magazines for the Browning in an act of confidence and in anticipation of things to come. Hoss had gone about 100 yards when I heard him leave the trail and begin to work uphill to the right. The first bark he made was a tree bark indicating a cold tree. I like a dog that telegraphs the condition of the track with the tone of his barks. Hoss is a dog like that.

I let him settle in and walked down the trail to find a crease in the steep mountain side in order to walk the 150 yards to his tree. To cut to the chase, he was treed on an oak den with a basketball-sized hole in the end of a broken limb about 25 feet up. I gave Hoss an “atta-boy” and we headed back to the beacon I placed on top of the crate to lead us back to our ride.

With Hoss loaded in the crate, I drove about 100 yards and cut him down the trail again. It must have been an intuitive move because as soon as his feet hit the carpet of leaves he was on scent. He worked this track downhill and opened, again on a tree and this time about 50 yards below the 4-wheeler. He checked the tree thoroughly and settled in. Hoss trees at about 70 to 80 barks a minute I would guess although I’ve never counted his barks but in my view, he’s a nice tree dog to listen to. He’s no 120-bark machine gun for sure but just about right for me.

“No blinker needed here,” I thought as I walked the short distance downhill to the tree. The first thing I noticed was a huge grapevine, about six inches through at the bottom. As I looked up, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Grapes, bushel-baskets of ‘em, were hanging everywhere. Big, perfectly-formed purple clusters of wild grapes like I’ve never seen in my years of hunting. I’m thinking, “With a banquet table like this there has to be a coon up there somewhere.”

Finding a coon in the tree at this time of year has always been a rush and often a challenge for me. You would think with all the leaves gone, it would be a piece of cake but that ain’t necessarily so. The color of a coon’s hide may be nature’s way of providing camouflage at this time of year. They can blend in perfectly with the gray tones of tree bark and when you put large limbs with ample crotches into the mix along with thick clusters of vines, Mr. Coon doesn’t have to show himself unless his curiosity gets the better of him.

As I looked this tree over, I honestly figured that Hoss had become a victim of a grapevine escape artist. I looked it over pretty good and couldn’t find a bulk. There was one spot where the vines were concentrated enough to hide a coon. I shook a vine that led into the mass with no results. I made one more walk-around the tree, climbing up hill to give myself a shining advantage but to no avail. I was just about ready to give Ole Hoss a pep talk about being a little more thorough in his work when I looked up at a limb that ran almost vertical on the downhill side of the tree and got a soft glimmer that looked for the world like a spider eye. I reached for the K-Light spotlight on my belt, flipped that baby on and low and behold, where once was a faint glimmer now was two distinct coon eyes looking down.

So many times I’ve shined trees at this time of year and thought the dog missed the coon only to find it in that one solitary spot that I had overlooked before. The lesson to be learned is to look thoroughly and repeat again and again until you are absolutely sure the coon isn’t there. I’m not suggesting you do this on an obviously slick tree with no logical hiding places but if there’s a shadow of a doubt, keep looking.

I argued with myself about whether to take this coon or not but I’ll admit, at this time of year, taking a coon is one of the many reasons I enjoy hunting. I held the spotlight in one hand and rested it against the six-inch barrel of the Browning and will admit it took more than one shot to bring him out. I think I shot five times before a nice-sized sow coon rolled out to attend Hoss’s reception party at the base of the tree.

It was another “classic” coon hunt in the North Carolina mountains for me and Ole Hoss.

I did release him one more time and he hit a cold track that trailed up the same branch that he treed slick on last Saturday night. This coon must travel very early and we’ll have to get out earlier next time if we want to take a look at him. I did enjoy listening to Hoss work this track. He has one of those nice Plott-type bawl mouths that I enjoy and reminds me of several of my hounds of years past. This track was a little too much for him and as he came back to where he started it to check again, I decided to load him. I want a dog to work a track one way, one time.

With that we headed back to the cabin and checked in at about nine-thirty. Hoss was a bit befuddled by my decision to quit and immediately wanted to play fetch with his rubber dumbbell. It’s amazing how easily he transitions from coon dog to lap dog. He’s just a silly ole hound but he and I are having a lot of fun and that’s the bottom line for both of us.

Thanks for reading.