Posted on 11/24/2013 2:14:22 PM PST by Daffynition
And the point of the article is?
Answer: A city-fied pansy-waisted metrosexual’s ideas, splashed all over the page with one hand, ahem. “Oh, don’t hurt that Bear! I don’t care how long it has been going on, it needs to stop!”
It is indeed! My dad shot a bear in Michigan's UP back around 1966 and had a rug made out of the hide......It laid in front of the fireplace in our cabin in Mio, MI for a bunch of years until someone broke into the cabin and stole everything, including the trail bikes which were locked in the outside garage.......
My uncles in northern Michigan (all now deceased) were avid bear hunters and bought and traded dogs on a regular basis. Uncle Hylon was a vet so he was tasked with patching up the dogs after a typical hunt..........
The Plott Hound is named after Johannes Plott who brought his Hanoverian Hounds over to the colony of North Carolina along with his family. His descendants gradually worked their way west and inland, eventually into the NC mountains, which would be the Plott Balsams just outside Waynesville that bear their name, continuing to breed their dogs, with some fortuitous crosses, the Leopard Cur and the wild Carolina Dog believed to have been among them. The dogs became legendary for their fearlessness and dogged refusal to go off scent, just relentless. They’re known variously as the Plott Bear Hound and the Plott Boar hound, being very successfully used to hunt both. Plott Hounds are to be found anywhere bear or boar are hunted, coveted in fact, scattered the world over. They’re the State Dog of NC.
I didn't realize that the year bear hunting was halted was 1976 (I was still in school, and don't recall it at all); nor was I aware that Gary Alt was involved in that too. Sheesh.
I did, and both of my grandsons have shot deer, one at age 12, the other took 3 seasons and was 15.
Next year, it's my last grand child to the hunt, KATIE, and she can't wait {neither can I}.
She is an excellent target shooter and we will have to see how well that translates into the field.
My family always look forward to hunting season and it is a great way to get re-acquainted with your young "kin".
To think that bears will eat absolutely anything & then produce such wonderful steaks? Can they be farm-raised?
No, in a couple of generations they’d be running the place.
Sorry *you* missed the point.
The article speaks to the long standing, time-honored traditions found at checking stations.
We have long lost the sharing of hunting stories ‘round the pot-bellied stove at the general store.
If you read and skim....you can *erase* the liberalese and take out the good.
*Excerpts from ‘The Black Bear of Pennsylvania’ by Henry W. Shoemaker and John C. French, Printed 1921, in Altoona, by the Times Tribune Company.
Kudos!
We’re still working on 10y/o’s target practice and rules, rules, RULES! 2 more years and we’ll start varmint haunting.
Started my son squirrel hunting at 9...Got his first deer at 12, his first bear at 15...He now has my grandsons (twins) both bagging their first deer at 10...
East Tennessee is a hunting paradise, IMO.....
Neato! You’re w-a-y ahead of me in producing spawn of spawn of spawn!
A full freezer come winter is always a good thing!
‘To think that bears will eat absolutely anything & then produce such wonderful steaks? Can they be farm-raised?’
CAPITAL IDEA OLD FELLOW, BLOODY GOOD THEN. HIGH TIME MANKIND UTILIZED THESE GUYS FOR A FOOD SOURCE INSTEAD OF ALLOWING THEM TO ROAM AROUND SCARIN HUMAN BEINGS HALF TO DEATH....THEY’RE BETTER IN SAMMICHES THAN IN THE WOODS............
Hey Daffynition!
I support the hunting of game animals, varmints, and birds, both upland and waterfowl.
There are critters that I, by choice of mine alone, won’t hunt, due to the respect of the beast that I have acquired. Yet as far as for the table, or skins, or teeth, or racks, I am for it.
I was passing through The Bronx Zoo, many years ago, stopping to watch the polar bears, who in turn came near to where I stood, stood up and watched me.
From that point on, any critter that stood a hair taller than me, on all four legs or two hindlegs, didn’t have to worry about me mucking about in the bush, looking to bag a dinner.
Not the wall, dinner.
What would you do for a Klondike bear?
Somebody get that polar bear a sidearm.
Hmmph, Groucho should talk! He once shot an elephant in his pajamas. How the elephant got in his pajamas Groucho never explained.
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