The Knight clan is serious about hares, and it's clear they're not going to hold my hand. Within minutes I'm on my own, searching for a shooting lane, while the dogs start rabbits almost immediately and never stop. That's when it strikes me, what seems so different about running snow bunnies from chasing cottontails back home in the South. Sure, there's the snow and the snowshoes, but so much of classic cottontail hunting is wound up in old sporting-calendar imagery of the frantic few moments when the hounds close in on the rabbit and the bunny bursts in front of the hunter, gun to a shoulder, the iconic moment frozen in the split second before the shot. We're 14 dirt-road miles into the woods, up toward Bald Mountain--huge country where snowmobile trails web all the way into Canada. The scale of the chase, thanks to the sprawling landscape and the hares' giant looping runs, paints this pursuit on a grander canvas. Unlike cottontails, snowshoe hares rarely go to ground. They run and run and run some more, and the hunter is more like the hound, pushing as close to the action as he dares.