Small game challenges big-game hunter
In remote mountains across North America and Asia, Richard Hale has spent weeks at a time in search of wild rams. He has known the heart-pounding rush of stalking giant grizzly bears in Alaska and elephants in Africa.
He is also a rarity in the world of whitetail hunting, with numerous bucks that would do well in the Boone & Crockett record book.
Thursday morning, he spent a few hours stalking an animal he appreciates about as much as any. At times he held as still as the trees around him, and then somehow walked whisper quiet across broad carpets of dried leaves and crisp sticks.
“I’ve never seen someone who was a good squirrel hunter who also wasn’t a good deer hunter,” said Hale, of Garnett. “I just like everything about squirrel hunting. I’ve done it all my life and just never got away from it.”
Growing up near the Kansas-Missouri border, the Hale family has squirrel hunted for generations for food and fun. Hale said he started tagging long with is father and grandfather when he could barely walk. He was hunting squirrels on his own before he was a teen.
Thursday, stalking through mature hardwoods on a farm he owns and has hunted since he was a boy, the 53 year-old dentist talked of times when he might walk five or more miles in a day, .22 in hand, searching for arrowheads or just exploring on his early solo squirrel hunts.
“Sometimes I’d just stay our for several days, sleeping out at night. I covered all of this country and never really worried much about food,” he said, speaking of things like huge wild blackberries and bacon and biscuit sandwiches tucked inside his shirt.
“I probably hunted about every day of the summer and several times a week during the fall and winter,” he said.
His years of such prowling ended with college, dental school and a practice in Ottawa. He also succeeded for many years in high-end shotgun target sports across America, Africa and South America. He made many fall pilgrimages for wild sheep and grizzly bears in the north country. Now, he gives hundreds of annual hours to the Boone & Crockett Club, of which he is the club’s Chairman of Big Game Records.
Thanks to the long June 1-Feb. 28 season, he estimates he still finds time for about 30 squirrel hunts per year. Some are an hour break from working on one of his several farms. Other times, like on Thursday, it was the centerpiece of his day. He likes hunting any month, but said it’s often most pleasant in October because of cool weather.
His breath was visible and his jacket fastened shut for warmth when he entered the woods shortly after daylight. Hale’s favorite method of hunting squirrels is stalking the sounds of a squirrel barking or using its razor sharp teeth to eat an acorn, walnut or hickory nut. But the wind rustling the leaves was about the only sound heard early that morning so Hale took a seat near two towering red oaks, trees from which he’d probably shot dozens of squirrels since his youth.
After about 10 minutes, movement to his right showed a gray squirrel hustling through some low limbs. Hale had to time his movements to keep from spooking the squirrel. He made the most of the split second the animal stopped and made the shot.
“... A lot of people don’t realize what we’re hunting out here have nothing in common with what they see in city parks,” he later said. “Out here these things are having to avoid, owls, hawks, coyotes, bobcats, every hour of every day. They’re challenging to hunt.”
All parts of the nine-month season offer challenges, including thick foliage of summer hunts. Hale likes hunting late winter when the woods are open and his shots are longer.
By about 10 a.m., Hale had his limit of five squirrels, with four grays and a fox squirrel. Rather than head straight home he walked other parts of the 160 acres, and showed where neighbors had placed deer hunting blinds and stands where they could shoot on to his property.
“Another thing I like about squirrel hunting is its a pure, non-competitive environment. I don’t have to fight the neighbors who think I’ve shot ‘their’ squirrel, like you might with a buck,” he said. “There’s no competition. It’s just fun.”
Hale expressed frustration on how the ultra-competitive, and highly-promoted, current state of Kansas deer hunting had neighbors arguing who had been friends for generations, and the stress of trying to curb trespassing and poaching.
Beside the sizable lake in his backyard, Hale pulled a sharp knife from his pocket, and within a few minutes had the squirrels cleaned and ready for another favorite part of his hunts.
“We rank wild turkey head shoulders above about everything wild we eat,” said Hale. “But fried squirrel would certainly rank way up there. I’ve eaten a lot of it all of my life. It’s never gotten old.”
This story was originally published October 3, 2015 at 3:48 PM with the headline "Small game challenges big-game hunter."