Photo By Jim Low

All week, I repeatedly watched the Weather Channel to see what the forecast would be for the day of our hunt. Tim Wimer and I were anxious to engage in some late-season squirrel hunting and some pre-season deer scouting on the Potts Creek Wildlife Management Area (WMA), which is part of the Jefferson National Forest.

So when the forecast was for overcast skies in the 30s, we planned our outing for the next day. When we arrived, I asked Tim to linger about 50 yards behind me since I have hunted the WMA many times and this was my friend's first visit to it. There was another reason for this positioning. If a squirrel glimpsed me before I spotted it and scurried around the other side of a tree trunk, Wimer might be able to still-hunt up to the animal as I moved on.

As we walked slowly along an old logging road, the already overcast clouds began to darken and a light, icy mist began to fall. But just as I was beginning to worry that we might have to prematurely end our outing, I spotted a gray squirrel about 60 yards away. I indicated to Tim that I had spotted game, and he froze in place as I began to stealthily slip toward the silvertail.

After about 10 minutes, I had come to within about 20 yards of where I had first viewed the bushytail, but the problem was that the animal likewise was on the move, busily scurrying along the forest floor in a search for any remnant acorns among the duff. Then I saw some posted signs up ahead, and it was obvious that I had come to the border of the public land where it met private property.

Some old-timers would no doubt proclaim that particular squirrel could read, for it was about that time that the gray slipped past the posted sign and onto the landowner's property. A few minutes later, it disappeared from view and so did my chances for an entrée of squirrel dinner that night. As it turned out, it was our last such sighting of the day.

At that time, our future success or failure was unknown, so I retreated from the property boundary, met with Tim again, and on we went up the logging road and Potts Mountain. We came to a small clearing in the forest, and there I spotted an abundance of deer droppings and even the J-shaped dropping of a gobbler. Going a little farther, I noted a well-worn trail where whitetails had consistently been entering an opening. About 10 yards from the trail grew two mockernut hickories -- potential places to hang a portable stand.

We then continued along the deer trail, which wound through a shelf on the mountainside. The pathway left the shelf and entered a mountain laurel copse. Here I observed several old rubs on pitch pines. Finally, the trail passed through the laurel and took an abrupt left turn at the intersection of a mountain rill and laurel-covered mountainside. When I reached that juncture, it was then that five does -- about 60 yards away -- suddenly arose from their beds and quickly loped even farther up the mountain.

Normally, I don't like to spook whitetails, but on this particular occasion my doing so was all right, at least in my opinion. A cold rain then began to fall, and our combination squirrel hunt and deer-scouting expedition was soon over. Although we had not bagged any squirrels and had spooked deer, I was very pleased with our outing.