When I was kid, one of the most exciting times to be had was coon hunting. And it wasn't just the actual hunt, but also all the hoopla leading up to it. The preparations. The trip out to the woods. The feeling of being part of a very 'manly' adventure...

  We often built a camp fire for warmth and I imagine for the glow. Yeah, a lot of it was for the glow. There's something very appealing about a blazing fire in the middle of almost total darkness.

  Then there are the dogs and all that goes with that. Most of those I hunted with were much older and far wiser in the ways of coon hunting and coon dog selection and training. There were wild claims of huge amounts of money paid for a single, but awesome tree dog. One paid handsomely for those great tracking dogs and so and so on. There were black and tans, blue ticks and red bones.

  Me, I had a mongrel Red Bone mix I called Satch.

  Sure he wasn't the most pedigreed or the best lookin’ dog in the bunch, but Satch had heart. And endurance. He would still be chasing ringtails long after the rest of the pack was winded and laying around tongues out, gasping. Because of his determination, we usually ended up getting that last and wiliest big ole coon in the woods. That allowed me to brag a good bit, bein' a kid with a less than 'pure' bred hound. Them older boys didn't like that one bit. Uh-uh, they just wouldn't tolerate being bested by a youngster and his mongrel.

  Pretty soon word spread that I was prone to 'embellish' my coon hunting tales. Wasn't long before no one really believed my stories anymore. Eventually, there were fewer and fewer invites to those hunting forays.

 Well, one night I had managed to tag along with a group of fellows who claimed to have the very finest coon dogs in the county, maybe the whole dang state!

  They laughed at my stories and said they were 'bout to show me how real coon hounds worked and they didn't mind puttin' me and Satch through a bit of embarrassment.

  They also said they were going to prove once and for all that my bragging about Satch's amazing hunting abilities was mostly imaginary.

  In spite of the attitude towards Satch and myself, the hunt went pretty well. Their dogs bringing several coons to bay while Satch just kept on running and running off in the distance.

  As we were sitting around the fire preparing to call it a night we heard a strange screeching sound coming from over the hill at our backs. One of the older guys, quickly hushed us and said, "You all know about the ghost of Poplar Knob doncha? Sounds like mebbe he's out a huntin' ta night."

  Then we heard it again, schreeeech! But this time I also heard Satch's 'treed' call.

  You see, whenever Satch would tree a coon inside a tree he'd bark a short little yip-like call then I'd yell, "Go on!” and he'd go strike another coon rather than stay at the tree. He knew I would never cut into a den. If he caught a trail he'd bark a deep continuous bellow as he ran.

  As we sat listening we heard his bellow followed by the treed bark, then a screech! And another bellow and another treed bark. Followed by the screeeech!

  This went on for some time so we set off to follow the sound.

  It wasn't too long before we came up on Satch running up to a giant old hollow beech stump. He'd strike a coon and run and treed it in that beech stump. He'd bark the treed bark, then off after another. While we stood there we noticed the beech had a long jagged crack that ran down almost the entire ten or twelve feet from top to ground.

  I can't say how many coons Satch had treed, but every time they inhaled, that crack would open up four or five inches.

  Every time they exhaled the crack would go back together making that eerie scrreeeech!

  In the last issue I began this series of articles describing my efforts planting food plots on my property once again. Things started by having the soil tested showing the ground needed no lime and not a lot of fertilizer. As in the past, potash was needed more than anything.

  Planting the seed went well. There had been a lot of rain the couple of days before spreading the seed which I hoped would give the seed a jump start toward germinating. It did to some degree but then the rain ceased. There wasn’t any significant rain in my corner of southern Illinois for over six weeks! Needless to say the plots failed to sprout and grow to any satisfaction.

  While bow hunting in the middle of October the plots looked pitiful. There was very little growing in the plots. The areas that are kind of on the “low” sides and partially shaded more than the rest seemed to have the most growing on it. But I’d have to say 90% of the plots were dry waste lands. There was also no reason to spray the Plot Protector System with repellant again. It would have been a waste of time and repellant to do so. Hopefully the spray will still be potent next fall as I have a lot of it in my garage.

  The rain finally returned late in the month but it was too late. I figured that since there had already been a frost and days of cold temps making the ground too cold for most of the surviving seed to germinate.

  On our annual scouting day the first weekend of November revealed my hunch was right. The plots looked terrible. A little more had sprouted but looked more like weeds than the expense seed I had purchased. I did notice in the Ground Blind (GB) plot some of the deer radishes were growing but not in great quantities.

 I had planted Bio Logic New Zealand Full Draw seed in the Permanent Stand plot this year. It contains more clover seed than their other blends so I decided to give it a try. There was no clover growing in the plot.

PS Plot Early November.

 The GB plot was planted with Green Patch blend. It favored no better other than the smattering of deer radishes through the plot.

Ground Blind Plot Should Be Knee High.

 The Quad Pod plot was planted with Green Machine seed. It had a mixture of winter rye, oats and winter peas. It didn’t take either.

Quad Pod Plot Covered In Leaves.

 So far I’d have to give this year’s effort a big fat “D”! I’d give it an F but I’m hopeful that the plots improve in the next few weeks after getting much needed rain and some warm weather. I’ll report back after firearm season.