Many years ago I owned a miniature beagle. I say miniature because on a hot trail in deep snow, she pushed it up like a mole in soft earth. Except for the occasional glimpse of her floppy ears, she all but disappeared.
Her name was Dolly, because I was and still am a fan of Dolly Parton. Like the country singer, Dolly the beagle had boundless energy and determination to get the job done, despite her small frame. She was more than able to find hares even when none seemed available, and agile enough to flush them from the heaviest cover.
Like Dolly the singer, Dolly the beagle was perfect.
Even now, many years later, I’m not sure if the word “owned” is accurate. When it comes to hunting dogs, there’s always a question of who owns whom. All I know is I haven’t had another rabbit dog since. I don’t think I’d find another as good, or one that hits the woods with such enthusiasm — or one more dear to my heart.
So, it goes without saying that when I hunt snowshoe hares these days, I go solo. Jumping or stalking hares is not the same, of course, or as exciting, and I still miss Dolly the beagle’s distinct voice as she turned a hare back toward my position.
Still, Maine’s long snowshoe hare season, which runs up to nearly half a year in much of the state, offers plenty of opportunities to get outdoors during the long winter months. It remains enjoyable and rewarding.
On a personal note, hunting without a dog has made me more observant, more patient and taught me to move with more stealth. In a word, it has made me a better hunter.
Since I lost Dolly, I’ve come to see hare hunting season as two seasons rolled into one: before snow flies and after. I enjoy both, but I especially like the early weeks.
As hunters, wildlife lovers and non-hunters alike know, snowshoe hares molt from summer brown to winter white each fall.
The change can be gradual. I recently read a study using 44 years of data that suggests the transition is slowing and happening later in some northern regions due to climate change, though I haven’t noticed a drastic delay here in Maine.
Whatever the case, by late November or early December, hares have partially or entirely turned white. If the change happens before snow covers the ground, white hares against a brown landscape are much easier to spot.
That’s what happened this year. Measurable snow didn’t arrive in my neck of the woods until well into December. It then disappeared during a couple of warm, rain-soaked weeks before Christmas, which provided nearly two and a half months of easier hunting.
During snowless periods, moving slowly and staying observant is key. Check under every low-hanging spruce or fir, through every evergreen thicket and in other likely hiding spots.
Dense, low-growing conifers along swamps, bogs, wetland edges, stream bottoms and old logging or woods roads offer plenty of overhead cover.
Snowshoe hares can be active at any time of day, but the best hunting is usually very early or late — just before sunrise and at sunset. By some combination of instinct, natural sense or training when young, hares know they stand out in the open brown landscape and are more vulnerable to predators during daylight hours.
Once snow flies, spotting white hares on white snow can be a monotonous and frustrating exercise in futility. I still love it though.
There’s nothing quite like the Maine woods in winter, particularly after a fresh snowfall. I usually head straight to my favorite haunts looking for fresh tracks and droppings. I keep moving until I find them.
Once located, I slow down and follow the trail to see where it leads. I hunt as I go with my .22 or shotgun loaded with number 6s ready.
Just like other wildlife, snowshoe hares have home ranges. As long as they have plenty of food and good cover, they have no need to travel far outside them.
When snowpack gets deep enough, hares will sometimes make and travel in a maze of deep, sometimes hard-packed runs, similar to a miniature deer run in snow.. These runs make moving through deep snow easier and provide cover and protection from land-based and flying predators.
Hunting snowshoe hares in winter without dogs can be challenging, but it is more than doable if you hunt the right habitats, move slowly and watch carefully.
Snowshoe hare populations are cyclic, swinging from boom to bust roughly every decade. Some years hares are scarce no matter where I hunt, while other years there is plenty of sign and good hunting. That unpredictability is what keeps every hunt exciting.
