First Michigan Hare Hunt

Three brothers, six beagle dogs, a dad, and even a mom traveled over 900 miles to hunt the snowshoe hare on the “Gem of the Huron” for a week.. This beautiful island offered both beauty and tranquility. Six very well-behaved beagle dogs, if I may say so myself, were tied out on the line, fed and watered each day, and attracted quite the audience of passers-by. Fellow visitors on the island would stop and visit, ask questions, and take a picture or two of our Buckley Hollow Beagle Hounds.

Here is the video

Our family hunting adventure began each morning with mom’s freshly made breakfast accompanied by some of her delicious coffee, and yes, even we boys enjoyed our cup each morning. We didn't have to worry about lunch and snacks, that’s for sure, and a bonus for when the mom comes along.

The first day we ventured out and got a feel for what the differences were between what we’re used to...you know those wily cottontails compared to the chase of the snowshoe. My brothers and I decided to rig us up a fishing pole and try our luck at fishing off of the dock by our cabin. Surprisingly, my brother got a bite off that makeshift pole. After an evening of school lessons and supper, we all went to bed anticipating the next day’s hunt and dreamed of bounding hare.

The second day, the song of the beagles was a music medley. We only took six dogs with us, but they ran all day and could have gone longer. The magical wonder of the dancing poplar trees and the scent of the fragrant fall foliage was captivating. Trekking across an open area, my dad, brothers, and mom all got in their desired places and positions. Of course, the walkie-talkies helped us understand placement and safety. We had split-track going, and just as I was anticipating the trail of the hare, I heard a “Boom” out of nowhere...then I heard my mom say, “Dead Rabbit!” Needless to say, she has not harvested anything in her life, and she got the first one. My brothers and I were surprised but excited for her. Just a short time thereafter, I blasted one, and then a second. Calling it a day, it was a good one, and at least we could have some hare for supper one night.

The second day, I decided I would try my hand at the Browning .22 my grandpa gave me. Finding my position amidst the Juniper and Poplar trees, I positioned myself just right, and sure enough, I heard the dogs singing, with the hare bounding, I nailed him. I was the only one who got a hare that day. Then, the third day, both of my brothers, one right after the other, blasted two hares. Mom said that would be enough for making supper, so she cooked them for us as we enjoyed the feast. Dad was the last one to put the hammer on one, of course, he always uses a .22, and he could have got one earlier with his shotgun, but he likes the challenge too much for that. The last day, I took my Browning .22 with me again and got two more. We took those home for later.

Days filled with hunting the snowshoe amid the plains was one of the most beautiful I had been in the Midwest. What young man wouldn’t want to hunt every day...our daily phrase became, “This is awesome, we get to hunt every single day!” I could definitely get used to a life of hunting by day and doing my school lessons of an evening. It is safe to say, FUN was had by all, and we hope to make this an annual trip.