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By Karl Terry
Local columnist 

Remembering my days of hunting those wascally wabbits


Last updated 4/8/2023 at 1:32pm

I learned many Easter egg hunts ago from none other than Elmer T. Fudd that wabbits are wascally.

I was convinced at a very young age that my Daisy BB gun was going to take down one of the long-legged jackrabbits running everywhere in our part of the country. I put in the hours hunting those long-eared bunnies but I’m pretty sure I never hit one. Mostly because they were usually a long way out and running fast when I got a shot.

I did club one with the stock one day while following my dad quail hunting. He had stunned the rabbit and it tried to get up as I approached.

As I got into my teens my technique and my weapons got more sophisticated. Buddies and I had .22 caliber rifles, pistols and 12 gauge pump shotguns. For a fun night we would buy a brick of .22 ammo and a box of shotgun shells and load them, four guys and all those guns in my buddy’s 4-door Datsun sedan. For $5 gas we could drive back roads all night long hunting rabbits.

The technique was to sweep the headlights back and forth from one ditch to the other as we rode along. When a rabbit was spotted we turned the Death Ray high beams right at those long ears and that would freeze the bunny in his tracks. Headlight paralysis led to the end of many a jackrabbit.

We had a boss that would feed the things to his hogs so we took them to him.

Later we chased them on dirt bikes on Jack County Lake. I had always heard this bunch of friends brag about doing this and it sounded like fun but it turns out there weren’t as many chases as they made out there would be. I also wasn’t nearly a good enough rider to be tearing across the salt flats in the dark of night. I went over the handlebars onto my head. It took the fun out of chasing rabbits on a motorcycle for me.

We did clean a mess of cottontail rabbits one day and instead of taking them to the hogs convinced my mother to fry them. She did it grudgingly after we swore they didn’t have any fleas on them. She cooked them pretty well done just in case they had the yellow fever but they were still pretty good. Tasted like chicken of course.

I don’t think I could have ever participated in the rabbit drives of long ago undertaken around here. My efforts never endangered the species but I know I could get one to eat if I’m ever starving.

Karl Terry writes for Clovis Media Inc. Contact him at:

[email protected]


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