Bill Cochran is a Roanoke Times outdoors columnist.

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Bill Cochran's Outdoors

Recent columns

• Hunters and anglers still in the conservation business
• Drum fishing on Virginia’s Coast comes in two colors
• Elk advocate finally gets his day
• Turkeys are plentiful, so why are hunting regulations so tight fisted?
• Column archive

Bill's Mailbag

• Remembering A. Willis Robertson
• Putting down a bear cub brings complaint
• Mail archive

Bill's Field Reports

• Eagles are up; black rail are down
• A. Willis Robertson great name for new DGIF headquarters
• Field reports archive

Resources

• Trout stocking schedule

BILL: I just read your coyote entry on your Field Reports. I thought I’d pass along an account of my coyote sighting. It was two years ago during bow season and I was hunting with a friend in the national forest outside of New Castle.

Long story short: I got him. It was as exciting as any shot at a deer I have ever made. The coyote was a lot easier to drag some 2 miles out of there than any whitetail would have been.

BILL: Just finished reading your column. If you want more coyotes, just let me know.

I have seen at least seven crossing my back yard (in urban Georgia).

Earlier this week, I was waiting for my Daughter to pick up her Welsh Corgi. We were setting in the garage at 11 p.m. I had the dog on a leash, but not tied to a rope. All of a sudden she shot out of the garage to a house across the street. There were two coyotes coming up to their front yard!

Imagine this, a 77-year-old guy, in his pajamas, running after a dog trying to catch her before the coyotes did. I was able to stop her. If I had been unsuccessful, they would have killed her!

BILL: Last week, a redheaded, ivory-billed woodpecker was “rediscovered” in the Arkansas forests after being “missing” for 61 years.

But lets make a comparison between this bird and the research over the last 75 years of the native eastern puma (mountain lion).

Immediately after the confirmation of the woodpecker, federal officials announced a plan to “save” the bird.

Interior Secretary Gale Norton said in a hastily formed news conference the agency is committing to a “multiagency, multimilion dollar, multiyear program to provide hope for the bird’s survival.” Second changes to save wildlife thought to be extinct are extremely rare, she said.

The same could be said of the native eastern cougar, but apparently Ms. Norton has no data or else doesn’t wish to discuss this land mammal that thousands of credible people have reported sightings across the Eastern U.S. for decades. Or is she ignoring this subject?

The Departments of Interior and Agriculture will be setting aside $10 million this year for a “Corridor of Hope” conservation plan. It will be used for protecting this woodpecker in the 2,400-square mile woods in Eastern Arkansas where it was “refound.”

In addition, Agriculture Secretary Mike Johanna said, “Area landowners will become eligible for up to $13.5 million in rental payments over the next 15 years to maintain trees that the ivory-billed woodpeckers use as their habitat.”

The government report goes on to say “a series of independent sightings of the bird over the last several years had been noted by area residents and tourists.” The most recent reports were confirmed by video and audio recordings.

As for the native eastern cougar mystery, thousands of independent sightings across the East have been documented, caught on videotape and photographed. There has been DNA proof, recorded screams have been identified and at least 26 carcasses of dead cougars have been found. Yet wildlife government officials say they “have to have more proof.”

All this action for one bird? And how many wild cougars?

BILL: Twenty years ago or so I sat fishing on the bank of the North River near Bridgewater when a voice from behind startled me.

“What do you think you’re doing, boy?”

I turned to see the peculiar old man with whom I shared the nearby house. Those were the first words he’d ever spoken to me, and not only that, it was the first time he’d ever even acknowledged my existence.

“What’s it look like I’m doing,” I replied with an attitude. “I’m fishing.”

“Fishing!” he said with a scowl. “You aren’t gonna catch no fish today. Wind’s blowing outta the north. Don’t you know nothin’?”

We stared at each other for a couple seconds. The look on his face was one of disbelief, and I guess I had a similar expression on mine. Then he shook his head, turned and walked away.

He had driven by 100times while I was sitting on the porch, but he just looked straight ahead. It was obvious he was deliberately ignoring me, and I quit waving after about the tenth time.

Come to find out, old Dee had graduated from Bridgewater College, in the 30s, I’d guess. His father was the maintenance man, so Dee had gone to school for free. Later he spent 40-odd years alone in a remote Georgia swamp where he raised mink and avoided people.

I don’t know why he came back to Bridgewater. He had no family. No friends. He’s been gone about 15 years, but I’ve never forgotten him and since the news last week I can’t get the old kook out of my mind.

You see, Dee was the guy in my life who knew more about outdoor life than anyone else. He told me a million stories. Sometimes I couldn’t shut him up. This was one of my favorites.

He couldn’t remember if it was 1965 or 66. He was in the Georgia swamp and said he’d gone out to get a couple of squirrels for dinner when all of a sudden he heard a commotion that stopped him dead in his tracks. Dee knew all the forest sounds, but he had never heard this one before. He drooped down and bellied up to the top of a knoll where he saw the source of the noise

“Two big woodpeckers in a mating dance,” he said. Dee had never seen anything like them, and considered shooting one, but ultimately decided otherwise. He said he watched them awhile and then got on with his hunting.

When he finally got his hands on a bird book he learned he had seen two ivory-billed woodpeckers, but the book claimed they had been extinct sine the 1930s.

“Did you ever tell anyone?” I asked.

“Tell anyone!” He gave me that all-too-familiar are-you-crazy look. “Do you know how many people would’ve come to my place? I ain’t never told no one ‘til right now.”

I never doubted him for a second.