Genesee Valley Maple ’11 keeps digging long after the others
MARYANN CULLY
have moved along.
A HUNTING JOURNEY
A foot hunter’s transition breeds a great pack and friendships. BY SEAN CULLY, MFH, ROSE TREE-BLUE MOUNTAIN HUNT
I
HAD BEEN STANDING IN THE SAME SPOT ON THE MOUNTAINSIDE FOR MORE THAN THREE AND A HALF HOURS, poised on the upper edge of
a 200-acre area. Cut and cleared a few years prior, the hillside was now a thick covert surrounded by forest, a mile or so from the nearest access road. A dozen of my Walker and July hounds had fallen silent after a solid four-hour chase that never left the covert. As I listened
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to the hounds, I felt excitement above and beyond, making the hair on the back of my neck raise up. It was extraordinary. Eventually, the excitement was replaced by intensity — pure intensity — as a pack of hard-driving hounds pushed relentlessly and swiftly through the covert. The sounds reverberated as they closed in on their quarry. The moment intensified as the hounds went silent. On this day, the hounds ruled supreme.
