SPORTS

Raccoon hunting on its way back

Dick Martin

It's a little surprising sometimes how a man can get caught up in a particular sport, pursue it with enthusiasm for long years, then gradually leave it and turn to something else.

It happens though, and for me raccoon hunting is a prime example. I hunted these little masked bandits back in the early '70s and well into the '80s, and in those days it seemed everyone hunted coons.

Racoon Face

Drive the country roads at night once the season arrived, and you'd find a pickup or two at half the woodlots passed, usually with an open-doored dog box. And on quiet nights the lonesome chop of a hard hunting black and tan or similar breed seemed to resound from all directions.

There was a peak in there somewhere when raccoon pelts started selling for $15 even $25 or more apiece, and then everybody including old Aunt Minnie was out there hunting. The animals were scarce with such heavy pressure and two a night was considered better than average.

Then furs went down to almost nothing, and many got out of the sport. These days only a few diehards roam the midnight woods, and coon are thick as fleas on an old dog. There's no limit on how many can be taken in most states.

I'm sorry that the sport has gone downhill, because some of my finest memories are of night-time coon hunts. It wasn't just a hunt, but a total experience, a blend of many sensory things. Like the smell of kerosene burning in a little lamp, and the rich odors of wet dog and stirred up leaves. I remember the crackle of ice as we walked through half frozen puddles, and that first hesitant chop as a fine little hound opened on a hot track.

The stars I'll always remember because on a crystal clear, cold night they shone like diamonds above and the Milky Way flowed off to the horizon. I'll never forget the frenzied barking when a dog treed his prey either, and we hurried to the scene with flashing lights among the branches.

Then at hunt's end we often stopped at one friends house who'd pour small treasured glasses of 10-year-old dandelion wine, and make a cheese plate with crackers for a late-night snack. We'd discuss the hunt, slip pieces to the little mountain cur at tableside, then go home to well-deserved rest. It was a great sport.

There's a chance that raccoon hunting is coming back, at least a little. I talked to a fur dealer recently, and he hopes to open this year buying prime large raccoon for a few dollars each. He thinks that late coon, full furred from cold weather might bring a little more. That's enough to pay for dog food, at least. And I'm hearing of sponsored hunts again, including one recently that drew nearly 50 hunters.

We badly need raccoon hunters and trappers these days, and not just for sport, but to trim the animal's populations. They're so thick in places that one trapper told me of taking 18 out of a single woodlot, and road kills are everywhere.

When populations grow, chances for rabies, distemper, and other diseases grow too, and they can become a real nuisance when they move into your own garage, house, chimney, or attic seeking warmth and dog food from Rover's bowl. But while they need to be thinned, that shouldn't be your reason for hunting. A clear night, a good dog, and wind rustling falling leaves should be enough.

Dick Martin is a retired biology teacher who has been writing outdoor columns for 30 years.  You can reach him at richmart@neo.rr.com.