Just prior to my writing this story, I had visited with a boyhood friend, John Paul Rhinehart. We had not seen each other for about 35 years, best we could recollect. He remembers all the details that I have forgotten. He even remembered every dog by name that lived on or near Back Street where we lived and played. Me, I can't remember my kid's names half of the time.
One story that John filled in the blanks on was the time that several of us boys were taken up on Happy Top to go "Snipe Hunting." This all started in Sarah's Cafe when Bill "Pole Climber" Tidwell and Pete Killgore, (there might have been another person), talked us into going "Snipe Hunting." Best we can remember it was me, John, Jimmy Decker, Bruce Howard and Doug Alred. They explained to us the virtues of the sport and how much fun we were going to have. We didn't let on at the time, but some of us were veterans of prior Snipe hunts. We played along with them and soon set out for Happy Top. We were taken to the place where we were to hold the bag and wait on the Snipes. They told us that they would locate the Snipes and herd them to us for capture. What we really did though was to beat them back to Pole's jeep. We coasted back down off of Happy Top, then jumped out leaving the jeep on the side of the road. We then ran back to Sarah's, getting there ahead of them. When they came back we acted as if nothing had happened. After a while we couldn't hold it in any longer. We razzed them and had a lot of fun with the telling of the tale.
As I said before, I was a veteran Snipe hunter. My first snipe hunt was on Pine Mountain while on a camping trip. We were camping on Laurel Branch. If any of you have ever been there before, you will understand when I describe it. It was a virgin forest. I always got the feeling that no one else, save Indians, had ever laid eyes on this place before. It had many pools of water including a water fall, and a place we called Slick Rock. The water was ice cold and crystal clear. We would swim in the pools and slide down the slick rocks until we slid into the water at the end. My memory for details is somewhat lacking, so I can't remember for sure who was with me on this Snipe hunt. I believe it was Jimmy Decker and maybe Damon Alred.
We were dropped of at the top of Laurel Branch in the darkest night that God ever created. After holding the bag for what seemed like an eternity, it finally dawned on us that we had been had. We started to make our way off the mountain. The terrain was very rugged, not even considering the darkness. The only way we were able to negotiate our descent was by staying in the stream bed. We had a harrowing trip off that mountain in the dark. We stumbled and fell many times. When we finally did make it to the highway, we were very skinned and battered. I don't think I ever mentioned this to my Mom for fear that she would truly never let me near the mountains again. I guess you know what that would mean to a "mountain boy." Only more disobedience. You can't take a mountain boy out of the mountains.
