Varmint Al's Hunting Stories Page

MY RIFLE.... My deer and coyote rifle is the 243 Win on a 40 year old Sako Forester action with a Shilen stainless steel barrel and a "tight neck" chamber, shown above. The scope is a Tasco TR 4x-16x mounted with Warne rings directly to the grooves on the action. This is as solid a scope mount as I have seen.

For the big wild boars, my Weatherby Vanguard (not shown) in 7mm Rem Magnum is more effective. The stories about wild boar hunting will explain why I prefer the 7mm Rem Magnum.

TRIP REPORT.... Tuesday (7/5/5) I headed off for a few days in the Sweetwater Mountains near the border between California and Nevada. I took Tide on this trip, instead of Bart, to get him used to coyote hunting and fetching trout. By noon we arrived at a small creek near Red Lake and caught 4 brooks and one rainbow. Tide kept trying to get ahead of me and that would have spooked the fish so I put him on the short leash tied to my belt. Tide didn’t want to fetch the fish even when I lifted them out on the bank and would jump back when they flopped in the grass. Bart will fetch them out of the water when I bring them up to the surface. Tide needs more training.

ALL THE WAY.... We continued on up to the Sweetwater's and I stopped in the Star Camp Site (beautiful campsite in the white bark pines), but the biting flies and mosquitoes were very bad. While fighting the flies, I got out the 17 HMR and shot 3 starlings for Tide to fetch. The place where the birds were was a bog and Tide turned into a mud dog fetching the birds. He was a little slow on the first one, and dropped it a couple of times on the way end, but finally delivered it to hand. No fancy finish at heel by that time. The 17 HMR really messes up a starling sized bird.

CALLING A COYOTE.... Moved to a big sandy flat to make my Stop-n-Drop camp to get away from the bugs. When we got there (about 9000’ and not a tree for a mile), I had Tide do about 10 long bumper fetches to tire him out a bit. Just about sunset we went coyote calling over the horizon about 400 yards away from camp. I sat Tide beside me on the doubled up short leash and got out the Long Valley Predator Call. I gave out a series of hurt jackrabbit. After about the third series Tide started barking and a coyote had stopped on my left at about 75 yards. Tide was tugging at the leash and the coyote was just standing there. By the time I could get the rifle into position, the coyote had started running around to get down wind. Tide was whining and barking trying to get free. Tide sure was excited. Well, the coyote stopped at about 150 yards and I missed. No excuses, I just plain missed! A brown jet was flying down the hill through the sagebrush and there was no way I could have hit it running that fast with Tide pulling on me. It was exciting for both Tide and me.

TIME TO RELAX (NOT).... We went back to camp in the sand and I popped the tab on a cold can of beer and was just taking it easy. The sleeping bag and bed was all out and I was just relaxing. Well, Tide saw 4 wild horses at about 400 yards and took off like a bullet toward them barking and growling. He left a dust contrail and I could hardly see him through the dust cloud. I whistled at him and was able to call him back after he had covered about half the distance to the wild horses. He came back slowly and the horses just stopped, but did not run off. When Tide got back, I put him on my belt leash. Then the stallion started toward us and the 3 other horses followed a bit behind. We just sat there and at about 100 yards, the stallion started zigzagging and whining and coming toward us. I don’t know about horses, but that sucker was threatening us and trying to run us out of his territory. I reached down and got my Ruger 101 357 Mag that I keep at bedside and took it out of the holster and the stallion is still getting closer. Tide is barking and growling at him and I was thinking “one in the air and then 4 in the hair” if he comes all the way in. The stallion finally stopped at about 50 yards and just stood there. We looked at each other for about a minute and finally he turned around and calmly walked away. We watched the 4 wild horses walk to the far hillside at about 1000 yards and finally it got too dark to see them.

OWL ATTACK.... Well, I open the second calming can of beer and here comes an owl and it swoops down at Tide. Tide didn’t know what to do. The owl would fly around and then come back and swoop down at Tide. This went on for about 5 minutes. Tide would run around and the owl would come back for another swoop. Finally the owl lit on a sagebrush and Tide was after him like a shot. Up went the owl and he made a few more swoops and left. That was enough excitement for Tide in one day.

BACK TO STAR CAMP.... Wednesday, up early and made 3 stands, but no coyotes. I did see a nice buck 2x2 in velvet at about 400 yards while eating my breakfast cereal. Tide was doing well until it started getting hot. I took him over to the little creek and he jumped right in and cooled down. Then we went back to the Star Camp. I shot him a couple more starlings with the 17 HMR. On the second one he didn’t want to fetch it. It was about 80 yards out in the bog and he would pick it up and then drop it. I finally got him to bring it in and it turned out that it was a single wing. The bird must have been messed up pretty bad from the 17 HMR. We went up the road a little ways and I saw a Beldings ground squirrel. We sat for a few and finally the ground squirrel climbed up on a dead branch on the ground. The 17 HMR barked and I sent Tide out with hand signals. With a rifle, Tide can't tell where I am shooting. He is used to birds falling out of the air and the 17 HMR is new to him. Anyhow, I directed him to the ground squirrel and he fetched it. He didn’t like it very much because it was really a mess.

GOING HIGHER.... We decided to go high and went up to a tall mountain with many radio antennas on top. The elevation must be about 11000’. At that elevation, my portable packet radio station using my truck’s 2m ham radio could reach my Network Node TRACY and my mountain cabin. I sent Mary Ann a packet message. I was quite proud that my TRACY node could be hit from there, about 200 miles. We dropped down about 500’ to a flat area and got the Stop-n-Drop camp setup. We did a couple of coyote stands around sunset, but no takers.

WAKEUP CALL.... Thursday morning, I was awakened by a coyote barking at me. The coyote was about 60 yards out and giving the warning barks. Tide was in the truck and I was afraid he was going to run off after it. But I called him to me and he came to heel. The coyote kept barking while I was putting on my pants and shoes. I leashed up Tide and got my old Sako rifle in 243 Win caliber and shooting sticks from behind the truck seat. The coyote stopped barking while I was jacking a round into the chamber. I just turned around and Tide sat beside me. I put the rifle on the Bi-Fur-Pod. There was the coyote silhouetted on the horizon at the red dot. It was about 100 yards. I would never take a shot like that in a populated area, but I took this one. I aimed right behind the shoulder. Bang! The coyote went down and out of sight.

Before anyone gets excited and wants to lecture me on taking such a shot when one is not sure of the backstop, here is a picture of what is on the other side of the coyote: Down Range for 50 miles.

COULDN'T FIND THE COYOTE.... At the shot, the coyote had dropped. I took Tide over to see the coyote, but no coyote. There were two large lung blood spots on the rocks. Tide was sniffing and he started down the back side of the hill. We went quite a ways, but couldn’t find the coyote. They can go a long ways with a lung shot. Gave up and went back to the truck for breakfast and packing up camp. I had to dry the sleeping bag from all the dew during the night.

BEAUTY IS IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER.... Here is the beautiful campsite: Drying dew off the sleeping bag. Not too much shade here.

FOUND IT.... After breakfast, we were going to find that coyote. With that much blood, it couldn’t have gone very far. We went over the hill where the coyote had gone. I found one blood spot down about 10’ and we went a little farther. Then I got smart. I told Tide: “Dead Bird”. That is what I say when a pheasant is down. Tide got serious then and started sniffing around in earnest. We went down about 50 yards and Tide was on the trail. I saw the coyote and it was face down between two rocks. Tide didn’t see it and walked all around it. Then he saw it! He did something I have never seen him do. He grabbed the coyote by the back of the neck and shook it viciously. I didn’t know that was in him. He must have had a run in with a coyote on Bethel Island where we have a pack of them. Tide does not like coyotes!!

TIDE ENJOYED THE TRIP.... We made a couple more stands, but it got very hot and we finally headed home. I stopped at two places to fetch Tide in the water so he could stay cool. Tide being comfortable is more important than keeping the old rug kit in my truck dry. It was an interesting trip and exciting for Tide. There will not be any trouble talking him into another trip to the Sweetwater's.

Al, I love your web site! It's the most helpful and informative site on varmint hunting that I've seen. I have downloaded many of your sound files and look forward to trying them out this winter. I am sending you a picture of a fox I took to years ago here in Alaska. This is what we call a cross fox. Since both red fox and silver fox occur in the wild here, crosses are quite common.

The time of year was late March-early April; mating time for fox and coyotes here. My brother and I were cruising the bluffs of the Delta river looking for critters in the river bottom. My brother spotted two foxes over a mile away and we set of on the edge of the bluff. By the time we got settled only one fox was visible. I started blowing my mouth call and the cross took off on a beeline up the river bottom towards us. Each time she stopped running I would give the wounded rabbit call another toot. The second the sound got to her she would take off again. The other fox popped out and joined the chase but she was already half way to us. She dropped out of our view as she neared the bluffs we were on, but she immerged directly below us when she rounded the point of the bluff. We estimate my shot at 80-100 yards. This was the first time I used my CZ 527 .17/.223 and the 25 grain Hornady found its mark. The male red fox never did show himself. As you can see by the picture, we were hunting along the Alaska Pipeline. Right of way permits are issued by the pipeline security folks once hunters provide basic information and positive ID. Security helicopters patrol the length of the pipeline and routinely land to check that right of way permits are in hand.

I took 4 foxes and one coyote last winter, but those were taken after being spotted from the road and stalked. The toughest one by far was the coyote. I spotted him crossing a creek bed about 120 yards off the road. I parked the truck and grabbed my .17/.223 and stepped onto the packed snow burm on the side of the road and laid prone for the shot. I hit him on the first shot but it hit a little far back so I fired again and missed as he went into the brush. I watched him stumble so I figured he wouldn't go far. I returned to the truck to put on my boots for the hike to recover the coyote. I returned to the shooting point and saw the coyote laying still on the edge of the brush. I started off the snow burm toward the dog when I stepped into the fresh snow; UP TO MY CROTCH ! It was then I realized I had left my snow shoes at home 300 miles away. I post holed the 150 yards to the dog's final resting place and it only took me 30 minutes to get there. Ugh. On the trip back to the truck the coyote I was dragging kept falling in the deep holes of my footprints. It took at least 45 minutes to get back to the truck and I was completely soaked from snow and sweat. I will remember my first fox and coyote for a long time. I will also remember my snowshoes EVERY TIME. Bill

HI-TECH HUNT.... Six of us were drawn for the Northeastern California X3B-Zone 1997 deer hunt. It was a very interesting and fun time. The early party of three drove up on Thursday and arrived in time to setup camp. We scouted the hunt area Friday, the day before the season. I mounted my Garmin GPS 45XL unit in the truck and was going to drive all the roads in the area so we could download the tracklog data on all of our GPS units, using the laptop. Yes, this was a Hi-Tech hunt, with computer, ham radios, and GPS units. That way we could stay away from the roads when we wanted to and get to a road when we needed to. I have the Garmin software that allows you to store the data on the laptop and download to other units. On the first road, about half a mile from camp, I spotted six deer. There were five bucks, a 3x3 and four forked horns and one happy doe that was getting some attention. They were not spooked at all. I watched them and called my buddies on the ham radio and told them what I saw. The deer moved over to a tiny bunch of quaking aspens and started attacking them with their horns while one buck was accommodating the doe. It was a regular rub area. Well, the other guys arrived and the deer were still there. We didn't have good enough camera gear to get any pictures that showed more than specks for the deer. Finally, after about 30 minutes total, they all walked away. Our spirits were high!

OPENING DAY.... Saturday, the early group went out and didn’t see any bucks in the morning. About 4:00PM, when the three in the late group arrived, I was out hunting and spotted a buck and passed him up. He did not look healthy and his antlers were deformed. He had a tiny fork on the right side and medium fork on the left side that still had some dried velvet on it. He sure was stupid. He stood and looked at me for quite a while. It would have been an easy 75 yard shot. (The next day a "road hunter" got this buck with the deformed antlers). About an hour later, David in the late group went out hunting and was only out for about 5 minutes, when Rich, his dad, jumped 2 deer and they headed straight to David. A large forked horn with very heavy tines and a 20+ inch spread stopped at 50 yards from David. He made a great neck shot with his 243 and his hunting season was over. Here is David and his deer.

DAY TWO.... Sunday, Rich was hunting in the "Deer Candy" on a north facing slope. The common name for this bush is Pacific ninebark and the scientific name from the Rosaceae family is Physocarpus capitatus. I put a leaf in the scanner and here is what it looks like. The deer like to stay near the areas where these bushes grow and that is why we gave it the "Deer Candy" name. Rich jumped this nice 3x3 and took a kneeling shot with his 270, when it stopped at about 140 yards. He hit it right through the boiler room, without rupturing the diaphragm, and had his Mule Deer.

MY DEER.... Later the same day, I was hunting in the Deer Candy and walking uphill very quietly. I glimpsed the back of a deer between the trees at what was 140 yards. I moved slightly so I could see its head and it was a forked horn. I decided to take it, since David and Rich had filled their tags and this was probably going to be my last chance. I unfolded my Bi-Fur-Pod to a unipod and had a problem. The tension on the pivot screw was low and it was difficult to make it stay straight. Well I finally got it setup and moved so I could see the deer’s shoulder between the trees. I had about a 1 foot "window" to shoot through. I touched one off with my Sako 243 and had a good sight picture when it went off. I saw the deer go out of sight to the right.

CAN'T FIND THE BUCK.... I marked the place where I shot from and made a beeline to the spot between the trees. When I got to where I thought the deer was standing, there were lots of tracks. But I couldn’t find any tracks where a deer was running hard. I looked for a blood trail and there was none. I went back and checked the trees on each side of the "sight window" and there were a number of holes that could have been bullet holes, but I couldn't get the nail on the end of my Bi-Fur-Pod to go into any of the holes. (Use #6 for the Bi-Fur-Pod). It was getting dark and I started making circles down hill looking for the deer. Nothing. I went back to where I shot from and again, traced my path. It ended up at the same spot. Well, I made a mark and put a stick on a rock so I could find the place again. In the excitement, I forgot to get a GPS reading. When I got back to the truck, I shot a pine tree and noticed it was easy to push the nail on the Bi-Fur-Pod into the bullet hole, so I was sure I didn't hit a tree.

LOOK HARDER.... The next morning I went back to the spot to take another look. The weather was very cool and the deer would not spoil overnight. I got back to the place where I had fired the shot and got a track through the "window" between the trees again. I also notice that there was a stump farther up the "window" so I could look farther down the track. When I got over to the tracks I saw, I looked carefully and found nothing. Then, I went past the stump and sighted back through the "window" to where I had shot from. I went up on a little promontory and there was big dig in the dirt where the buck had launched from. I saw one set of tracks where he hit the ground about 10 feet down the hill and a big blood blotch on a log. I had just not gone far enough down the line of sight the night before. I followed the blood trail about 40 feet and saw where the buck had gone down.

WHOSE DEER IS IT? But there were drag marks. Somebody was dragging my deer! The drag marks led about 50 feet into a clump of small trees and there was the deer covered up with dirt and twigs. It was a nice forked horn, but a mountain lion had found it in the night and claimed it as his own food. I marked the location with the GPS unit and, while I was doing it, I heard something in the brush up the hill.

I decided that this was a good time to get some backup while I reclaim at least the hams and head of my deer. I also wanted some wittiness to verify what had happened. About 2 hours later we assembled all six hunters and went to recover my deer. We found it easily with the GPS fix. The mountain lion had not returned and we took pictures of the buried deer and the lion tracks. Here I am about ready to pull the buck out of the dirt pile.

When we pulled the deer out from under the debris, it was a pretty smelly mess. The lion had completely eaten the left front shoulder and about half of the left ham. The bullet had entered just in front of the right shoulder and exited somewhere centered on the left shoulder. The hit was about 10 inches forward of where I had called the shot. One is allowed a little error with all of the adrenaline and the heat of the excitement. There was no 10 inch wind blowing, so I couldn't blame it on wind.

THE LION'S SHARE.... About all I could salvage was the right ham. I took the head and the right ham and left the "lion's share" to the lion, but uncovered. The lion was probably not too happy when it got back and found that someone had disturbed his food store. Besides, every one in the party applied a scent mark to the area before we left. It could have been just a nervous pee. When the forestry worker validated the deer tags, he was quite interested in the lion evidence. He claimed that he did not carry protection when he was out marking trees, but did it with a nervous laugh. The story will give him something to think about while he is working.

All in all, it was a good hunt. We got 2.2 bucks for six hunters and had a great time.

Note: Here in California, the liberals have been able to pass legislation that outlaws all mountain lion hunting and they are rapidly increasing in numbers. We are seeing serious reductions in the deer herds and have lost a number of people and at least one lady jogger, wearing Nikes, to mountain lions. Click HERE for more on Mountain Lion Habits.

THE HARD LUCK BUCK.... I went on a solo deer hunting trip up at my mountain cabin in the 1987 A-Zone season. I had hunted the early morning and had not seen any deer, so I packed it in until the afternoon hunt. It is hot that time of the year in California's Coastal Range. About 6:00PM I tanked up on water because I don't carry a water bottle, and headed up the mountain north of the cabin. At about 300 yards from the top and huffing and puffing pretty well, I sat in the shade of an oak tree for a long rest and to just watch what was going on. The south sides of the mountains are mostly bare with most of the trees and brush on the north facing slopes.

After about 20 minutes, a coyote came over the top of the mountain and sat down and looked at me. I setup my Bi-Fur-Pod and dialed in 300 yards on the Tasco 3-9X Rangefinder scope and nailed the coyote. We had lost a lot of deer the previous winter to coyote predation and I figured I had just saved about 20 deer during the next winter. I also assumed that I had ruined all chances for seeing any deer, so I got up and started climbing up to the coyote. It was not a direct route, because there was a ravine in the way and it took me 30 minutes to get to the coyote.

When I got up to the top, I sat down for a rest, looking down on mostly a clear hillside. I saw some movement at a lone juniper in another ravine at about 300 yards and it turned out to be two forked horn bucks. Again, I dialed in 300 yards and setup the Bi-Fur-Pod and centered on the withers of the trailing buck. I dropped him with single shot. I promptly forgot the coyote and started down the hill to get the buck to the cabin before dark. The sun had already set. I knew it was going to be a long haul down the hill, so on the way down, I left my gun and Bi-Fur-Pod it an easy place to be picked up the next morning (Bad move).

I got to where the buck went down and he wasn't there! He had gone under the lone juniper tree and was standing looking at me. The buck's left shoulder was destroyed, but he could move faster on 3 legs than I could on 2. Well, all I had was my knife and my fanny pack and when I moved, I spooked him and he started running down the hill, lost his balance and tumbled downhill about 40 yards, head over heals. I started running back toward where I had left my rifle and when I got back, it was getting pretty dark, but I spotted him laying down with his head up. I made a neck shot to finish him off. He was on some very steep terrain now. I finally got over to him with a lot of slipping and sliding and was shocked! BOTH of his antlers had broken off when he tumbled down the hill.

Here I was. It was almost black dark, on a steep hill and I am in possession of an illegal buck! In the A-Zone, a legal deer has to have at least one fork. It was too dark to look for the broken-off forks. I field dressed the deer in the dark and started dragging him down the ravine to the road below, about a mile away. There was a lot of poison oak on the way, but what you can't see, can't hurt you, right?

I got the buck to the road and walked back to the cabin and got my truck. By about 11:00PM, I was skinning the buck and completed things by about 2:00pm. At daylight the next morning, I went up the north mountain again to find the rest of the buck's horns so I would have a legal buck. I got up there and looked for an hour or so on the very steep hillside and finally found the one fork. Assured that I now had a legal buck, I headed back to the cabin. When I tried to piece the horns together, there was a MISSING piece between the stumps and the fork! Back to the north mountain. I hunted another hour and finally found the missing piece. I was lucky, because it was the correct missing piece. It could have been the one from the other side.

The way the horns were fractured indicated it was primarily a compressive load. During high compression, the mode of failure is usually in shear. As one shear plane begins to fail it puts even a higher load on the mirror shear plane and as the column buckles a second failure location also occurs, hence the separate piece is generated. If the horn had been loaded in pure bending, there would not have been a separate piece generated. A bit of engineering analysis here on failure theory.

When I took the buck to the police station to get it validated by an official, I told the policeman that the horn broke and I had all the pieces. He didn't even want to see the horn pieces. I told him to wait a minute! I had spent half a day recovering the pieces, he was going to take a few minutes to see that it was really a legal buck. He watched while I carefully showed him how the pieces fit together.

The moral of the story: 1. Don't go hunting solo, you might get a deer. 2. Don't lay your gun down when you go to retrieve your buck. 3. Make sure when you buck falls, it puts a pure bending load on the horn so in case it breaks off, you won't have to look for the missing pieces.

Footnote: I found the other fork 2 years later in the stream bed after a hard rain, but it didn't fit, because there was also a missing piece on that side. I no longer use the .243 100 gr. Sierra ProHunter bullets. I have switched to the 243 100 gr. Nosler Partition bullets. They are very expensive, but do not blowup on the surface and provide deep penetration with good expansion.

BULL FEVER & THE A-ZONE 1997 DEER HUNT.... Four of us went up to my mountain cabin deer hunting on opening day of the 1997 A-Zone deer season here in California. I did not see any buck deer, but did have a memorable experience. It was an exciting opening morning. I went out hunting on the north ridge before daylight. As I was climbing up the hillside, I saw a BIG Black Angus bull (some ranchers let their cattle roam free). He was near a break in my fence line and inside my property. I normally don't pay bulls any particular attention, but when this bull saw me got to his feet and turned facing me, with his head down, at about 75 feet. I moved so that the fence line was between us (good move) and continued walking up the hill. When I got about 50 feet from him, he charged me. He was running very fast directly at me and stopped about 10 feet from me. He was still on the other side of the fence which is old and rickety barbed wire fence and has many holes in it. His head was down and he was snorting at me. I am sure that there was blue smoke coming out of both nostrils and lots of white showing in both eyes. I am not much of a matador and didn't know the correct veronica for the occasion, so I fired a shot about 2 feet over his head from the 243 Win. It was still dark in the early morning and the muzzle flash extended halfway to the bull. He rolled his eyes, turned and started walking slowly off to the east away from me. If you think buck fever makes you shaky, try bull fever! It's worse. Well the shot spooked all the deer that would have been in the area. I didn't see a single deer after that and the bull stayed at the north end of my property all day. His ears were probably still ringing. I wrote Mary Ann a packet message from the cabin ham radio station and she quipped back: "Hola Don Jose Alfredo el matador grande!! Guess we won't have any beef burgers. That's o.k. They'd be tough, anyway." At least Mary Ann could laugh about it.

A-ZONE 1996 DEER HUNT.... Four of us went up to my mountain cabin about 20 miles south of Livermore at 2700 ft

Opening day we were out at first light and I was heading up the north hill. Just as I topped the ridge in front of the "flat-topped" pine tree, I saw a deer and stopped. It was a 2x2, still in the velvet, eating grass and he didn't see me. I took a couple of deep breaths and set down and put my rifle on my Bi-Fur-Pod shooting sticks. When he turned sideways, the A Zone hunting season was over for me at 6:20 AM on opening day. The hunt had lasted less than 30 minutes.

After the shot a second buck, much bigger than mine, possibly a 3x3, ran up into view about 20 feet and looked at the fallen deer and then looked at me. This buck stood there for a minute or so and then just started eating grass. I called Lee on the radio (we are all ham radio operators) and told him there was a second bigger buck, but he was too far away to get there in time. After about 10 minutes, the big buck must have heard or smelled me and just walked over the hill. We never saw him again.

The hunting phase was over, now the hard work began of getting the little buck back to camp. We skinned the deer out and had him in the Livermore meat locker and were back at the cabin by noon. That is the shortest deer season I have ever experienced. Of course we are still right in the middle of wild pig season. It lasts all year long and the limit is one a day. We are getting ready for the C Zone hunt that starts on September 21. Some days are diamonds and some days are stones. Opening day was definitely a big diamond for me. No one else saw any bucks. I guess I was just in the right place at the right time. That is the way it goes sometimes.

ZONE-X3B 1995 MULE DEER HUNT.... We went up to Don's Pepperdine camp near the Warner Wilderness. Don has a small ranch just outside of Alturas and drives his cattle truck to supplement what he makes from the cattle and hay. We were at 6800 ft about 3 miles north of Squaw Peak. We stayed in one of the cabins and even had a wood stove and running water. We hunted the wilderness Saturday and Sunday morning and didn't see any sign of buck deer. There were a few doe tracks, but none of the big buck tracks. We then went to an area about 8 miles north of Don's cabin. Rich, one of the guys in our party, found big buck tracks in the road and Sunday evening, found a bachelor heard of about 5 bucks. Two forked horned bucks were fighting at about 120 yards. He took one of the forked horn bucks with one shot through the lungs just behind the shoulder. The next morning, he took his boy back to the same area and they couldn't find the bachelor heard again.

Tuesday, all four of us went to the same area and I found the bachelor heard. They didn't see or hear me. I straightened out my Bi-Fur-Pod for a rifle rest. I only moved when the bucks had their heads down eating. I was ready to take a 3 by 3 standing at 100 yards, and he turned directly away and I had to wait. Then I saw a second 2 by 4 buck with larger horns and took it. It must have weighed more than 200 lb. on the hoof, one shot, walking quartering away through the lungs behind the shoulder and exiting in front of the off shoulder. That split up the bachelor heard. That evening, David (Rich's boy) jumped a nice forked horn and made a beautiful running shot at 80 yards. The buck was running directly away from him, up hill and he broke its neck just under its chin. Todd got a one second look at a legal buck but didn't get a shot. A 75% average was pretty good, 2 forked horns and a 2 by 4 with 3 shots for a party of four hunters can be considered a successful hunt.

Hi Al,

Just thought you might like to hear how it’s done this side of the pond.

First I have to tell you that our deer hunting seasons are really long in England and Wales and run from April to October for roe buck, from August to April for fallow buck, red stag and sika stag with no close season at all for muntjac (chinese water deer are very localized so generally are not hunted very much). The female deer season is basically November to March. In Scotland the red and sika stag season is different, from July to October but the rest is basically similar.

I started deer hunting in 1977 in the south-west of England, an area always known as Wessex, the old Anglo-Saxon word. I hunted under the watchful guidance of a professional hunter and, as I didn’t have the expendable income to shoot trophy bucks (very expensive!!!) I hunted only control animals, the overall deer herd being very carefully controlled for health, gender balance and trophy quality. The area under the control of the professional was about 25,000 acres of private forest plus the surrounding farm lands. We mostly hunted roe deer but there were also a small population of fallow. To maintain a steady population level the total cull for a year was about 200 bucks and 250 does. The wealthy ‘clients’ only shot the really good trophies which made up no more than half the buck harvest so it left plenty of control animals to hunt the year round. It was a good way to learn about deer as I had to be able to judge the age, condition and quality of bucks on the hoof to decide if they were to be taken or left. Mistakes were not allowed, if I wasn’t sure I didn’t shoot. But as roe are very territorial we could usually find the same buck another day and let the professional make the decision. I looked at an awful lot of deer in those early days until I was confident and knowledgeable enough about them to be able to act as a part time guide for the wealthy clients. I guided a lot of guys till about the early 90’s when I moved to Ireland. I guided European royalty, multi-millionaires, politicians and all sorts and it always struck me that you could never tell what sort of sportsman the client was until he had the deer in his scope. Personal background didn’t seem to be a factor but quite often, regardless of how rich they were, at the end of the hunt if they didn’t think they had the best trophy possible they would bitch about the costs even though they had some great hunts and some lovely trophies. I thoroughly enjoyed myself all through this era and even managed to get myself a couple of good trophies in the process.

At the same time as this I was also spending quite some time in Scotland shooting some roe deer but mostly foxes. There must be millions of foxes in Scotland. There are generally large numbers of rabbits, hares and feathered game and the fox numbers are abundant in relation. I had a friend who was a gamekeeper and he was well known in the area for his fox population reducing exploits so we had plenty of land to shoot over. As the foxes there are totally nocturnal all our shooting was done with a powerful lamp at night. The rifle I was using at the time was a Tikka LSA55 in .243. I loaded the 105 grain Speer spitzer for deer and had it printing 1” high at 100 yards and the 60 grain Sierra hollow point that printed just over ½” higher but dead on centre with the same point of aim, the groups from either round cutting a clover leaf all day and I could shoot out to 300 yards with that 60 grain bullet without having to worry about holdover. I have to admit though that the loads I was using were very hot according to the book but that rifle seemed to take them in its stride. My record for one night was 8 foxes, I often had 4 or 5 in a night and had several ‘doubles’ when 2 foxes come to the call together and I got them both. Eventually, after about 10 years and hundreds of foxes and deer the barrel wore out. I shot at a sitting fox one night at about 70 yards with the 60 grain load. The rifle fired OK with the usual recoil but nothing happened to the fox, he just sat there and scratched his ear. My friend went into convulsions of laughter saying I’d missed a sitter on the end of the barrel, etc. etc. but when I went to the range the bullets weren’t hitting the target, they were exploding on exiting the barrel. It would still shoot the 105’s but the 60’s were disintegrating. I cleaned the barrel and, with a light, I looked up the bore to see that for about 6” in from the chamber the rifling had vanished with another 3” of very rough stuff. The 60 grain bullet jackets must have been getting damaged in this area and breaking up.

I switched then to a .222 Remington for the varmints (you can also shoot roe in Scotland with a .222 but not in England or Wales) and a 30-06 for the deer. I used a .308 for deer for a while but found the recoil very sharp, I found the 30-06 to be much more comfortable to shoot. One day I had a call from my Scottish pal he said that a couple of hill stalkers (professional deer hunters) owed him some favours so he had booked me onto 2 hill stalks, one for a red stag and the other for roe bucks. Now although I had been born and bread on the side of a mountain I had always hunted deer on low ground. The Scottish mountains are steep and very high and the stalkers, who are born and reared in these areas, are well known for making the clients work hard. Determined not to look daft I went into training, lost some weight and used stairs instead of lifts at every opportunity, etc. as I knew that the red stag hunt would be arduous at best. A red stag hunt is generally conducted during the day as it is on open hill ground. A stag is spotted at some distance and ‘stalked’ to get within reasonable shooting distance, usually less than 150 yards. We arrived at about 10 o’clock on a lovely fine August day and, with the stalker set off in his ATV into the mountains. We came to the place where the base of 2 mountains came together with a burn or stream flowing down each one and joining into a larger stream. The stalker got out his large spotting scope, looked up at the mountain and said ‘That herd will do. About 500 animals, mostly hinds (females) and calves but some stags.’

Well, looking up the hill (about 30 degree elevation!!!) through my Zeiss 8 power binoculars I couldn’t see one deer. I asked him where they were. He described that they were below the peat hag and just to the left of the large white rock. I got the peat hag and the rock but still no deer, let alone 500 of them. He turns to me and seeing my binoculars asks what the magnification is. I says 8 power whereupon he says ‘you won’t be able to see the deer with them wee things laddie, just look for lots of wee red pin pricks’. As he said it the hillside became plastered with wee red pin pricks!

‘And how far away would they be?’ I asked in a slight state of panic. ‘Och, no more than 2 hours fast walking’ he replied. So off we set. Let me tell you that a fast walk up a 30 degree slope is no joke, and the 2 hours had been optimistic. Thank goodness I’d been in training. We slogged away but just when we were getting to the herd some sheep that we hadn’t seen panicked and frightened the deer over onto the adjacent hill. Oh well I thought it’s a pity I won’t get a stag but the view was nice at the top of the mountain. Just then the stalker says ‘drat, they’ve gone over on tae the other hill. We’ll have to go all the way back down and up that ain’. I laughed thinking he was joking – he wasn’t. Down we went and up we went again. I had to crawl on my belly over the heather for the last 30 minutes and finally got my stag at 5 o’clock that evening.

I thanked the stalker for the outing to which he replied with feeling ‘och, I’m sorry it was no much of a go. Come back when we’re culling the hinds, it’s much more challenging and the weathers no so dashed warm’. I didn’t take him up on the hind stalking, I don’t think I would have survived it!

Let the folks know that I’ve lived in Ireland for over 15 years now and all my old contacts in UK have sadly passed over to the Great Hunting Grounds but I will certainly answer any general questions. When I get the opportunity I’ll write some more about different aspects over here.

Best regards,
Tim

Note: Dick Hatfield and I have been communicating with Klaus via email for quite some time about rifles and reloading for accuracy. He gave me permission to reproduce his Roe Deer Hunt story here. Klaus has done a very good job writing this in English and I did not do any editing that could possibly diminish the meaning or excitement of his success story. When Klaus sends the photos, they will be included in the story.

Hej alle!
Bukkejagten starter i morgen tidlig kl. 05.07,- jeg er på plads kl. 04.00.
Har i den sidste tid set 2-3 råer på mit terræn, men ingen buk. Der er dog 4 gode fejninger i skoven. Var her til aften igen oppe på jagtterænnet for at kikke efter råbuk. Jeg så ingen buk, men en rå som gik og græssede på den lave eng. Nå "pyt" bukken kommer vel i morgen tidlig,- "håber jeg".

Hi everybody!
Open season for roedeer starts tomorrow morning 05.07,- I will be there 04.00.
In the last week I have seen three to four does at my hunting ground,- but no buck. In the forrest there are four places where bucks have scrubbing there antlers on small trees. This evening I have been loking for buck too, but I saw none. A single doe was forageing in the bottom of a valley. Tomorrow morning he will be there,- "I hope".

First of all, this mail is in english, and is mainly addressed to Dick Hatfield and Varmint All in California. Actually I just want to say "hello" to my family and Danish freinds with this mail, to tell them that I took a roedeer buck on the first day. So "hello" to your all,- and please forget the details,- but of course you are welcome to read them if you want to. Doing it this way, I do not need to write the story two times, English and Danish.

Time was about 20.00 when I left my home, to drowe the 4 kilometers up to my hunting area. There was a familiar smell of mosquito repellant in the car,- not quit pleasant actually, but in Denmark at this time of the year, you have to be well rubbed in mosquito repellant, unless you can accept to be "attacked" every second. My Sauer 200 TR cal. 6 mm. Remington BR laid on the back seat, and I had 3 cartridges in my pocket, with the 70 gr. Sierra Match King bullet. Powder was 36 gr. N150. muzzle velocity 1060 m/sec. I was not quit happy to use a match projectile to hunt, but I really have tryed very hard to find a hunting projectile that could shoot accurately in the barrel. Not even the 70 gr. Ballistic Tip could do it. So Dick Hatfield and my Danish gunsmith proposed me to use the 70 gr. Sierra Match King bullet, which goes wery accurately in the barrel, (under 10 mm. groups at 100 m.) so thats why my rounds are loaded up with 70 gr. Sierra Match King bullet, and why they are in my pocket right now. So in the meantime when we are driving, I can tell you that I have been doing a lot op training up to this roedeer season, both short range (under 150 m.) and long range (up to 325 m.) Why?,- because a lot of times I have gone home without the buck, because the range was too long,- and I do NOT want to wound the deer,- so I hold my fire. Therefore this year I have put a roedeer silhuette on a field, in a hedge, and so on, and fired my rounds from varios distancees. But before I did that, I had made a ballistik table om my computer, to have in my pocket. I did that because it can (for me) be impossible to remember all these detailed things when the buck stands at m. and "waiting for you" All the training was made very hunting relevant, because I just sat on my hunting chair with the rifle on the shooting sticks. I used of course the strap as well. Well,- I did quit well with the training, and I desired to shoot up to 300 m. on the real buck - if there are not too much cross wind. Now I am already at the farm, I just waved "hello" to the farmer. I drowed a little on the track behind the barn, before I stopped the car, where it could stand in the shade of a tree.

Now I have to remember everything: Binoculars, hunting chair, shooting sticks, hunting knife, ballistic table, cartridges, hunting licence, licence to have and use rifled weapons, magazine, and of course my "leightweight" rifle on 14 pounds,- including the strap. Now it is time to tell that my hunting area is wery hilly. It is quit prospective that I will be able to find the buck ( IF he is there) in the biggest walley near the wood (about 5 acres), My tactic will be to work from one waley into the next, always on the bottom, or else the buck would be able to see me. The wind is 3-4 m/sec. and comes from southvest,- perfect,- I will be able to use my favorit tactic, in my favorit area, including having the sun behind me, which means that the buck must look right at the sun to see in my direction. I now began to work very cautious through the small valeys, and after about 20 minutes I stand in front of the biggest hill in the area. I have planned to work right up at the hill, but very very slowly an cautious. When my head is just a little bit over the top of the hill I began to use my binoculars very diligent,- then work 2 meters,- binoculars again,- and so on. After about 20 minutes I was standing right on the top of the hill, with the sun behind me, and the vind in my face,- and right in front of me the biggest valey in me hunting area. I havent seen any deers yet niether does or bucks. So I sat down on my hunting chair, and began to build up a stabel shooting position with the sticks,- testing the use of the strap as well. I was not finished about all this fefore I suddenly stiffen,- my eyes had seen something red moving slowly at about 350 meters down the walley. I was actually caught in a imbalance, but there was only one thing to do,- "freeze" - so far I just manage to put up my binoculars,- OHH - a very fine male fox, he was evidently hunting for mice in the grass.

Now I could do the rest of the work to build up my shooting position. Buy the way,- a funny thing, right behind me in another hunting area, another hunter has sat down right in the middle of a big field ( 100 acres) with 75 cm. high barley, I could just see his head and shoulders,- quit strange,- I wonder what he is waiting at out there,- and in a bad wind too?. Well,- when I was a beginner I did many miscalculatings too. I sat about half an hour, enjoying the smell of lilac and rape. There still came a mild breeze from southwest. Since I came here I have now heard 3 shots near by (about two square kilometre) Of course I was watching the the valey very carefully,- and then it happend,- a deer came out from the wood,- I used my 24x Bauch & Lomb scope to see if there was "something between the ears" - And there was wery fine antlers. Tree ends on each antler,- we call it a "seksender". (can be translatet to "with six ends") I must admit that I was not longer as calm as I want to be (adrenaline),- so I just sat there and began to consider what to do. I decided (after some calculation) that the range was about 225-235 meters. I could shoot right from were I was,- or I could try to get nearer. Hmmm,- after some pondering I decided, that after all the training I was good enough to shoot right from were I was. So,- down the pocket to find the ballistic table,- 250 meters means 2 cm. over zero.

The buck was still unsuspecting, so I gave myself good time to build up the shooting position. Legs out, albows on the knees, strap around left albow, now locking everything in stable trianglels, puls OK, breath under control,- pendling, breath stops, - crosshairs stops on the heart region,- time to let go. The buck did not show that he was hit,- he just turned around, and ran back to the wood in very high speed. Maybe you will be able to understand what I felt, if you recall that it was a pure match bullet that I just fired. Well,- I did as I shoud do, I waited about 5 minutes, before I began to go to the place where the buck standed when he was hit by the bullet. I began to look after blod and hair,- but there was nothing,- I ran up and down 3-4 times, but there was absolutly nothing to see. Now I rearly began to sweat,- have the bullet expanded at all?. I tryed to recall the details in my shooting,- and find out that he must be deadly hit in the heart region, so I began to look very carefully between the bushes and under the trees,- there was very high weed too. The first fifty meters there was nothing to see,- no blod, nothing at all. But finally I got my reward,- there he was,- laying under a coniferous tree, almost coveret with weed. The first thing I did, was to find the impact,- a absolutly perfect impact,- right over the heart, right through both lungs.The "udgangshul" I dont know the English word (the hole where the bullet came out) was wery fine too,- about an inch diametre. I have shot deer with hunting bullets that have expanded a lot too much, making a tree inch diametre hole. Actually this was the best and most controlled expansion I ever had!! As you know my back is weak (slipped disk) so I put the deer back under the tree, and drowed home to get my wife, and my oldest daugther, they can help me carrying the deer home. They brought the camera, so I will be able to send you some photograps. Now he is hanging "on the hook" with a quilt cover around it,- we have a lot of bluebottles at this time of the year. Tomorrow when the meat is maturatet I will be slaughtering him.

This photo was taken 16 May this year, in the wood where I found the buck dead. Time is about 21:30. As you know, my wife and my oldest daughter helped me carrying the buck down to the car. As you can see, they are carrying the buck very nice with his head between his forelegs. This is done because of ethical rules. You will never see me straddle over a roedeer which I just killed, because you must show respect to the animal which life you just have taken. When the deer is cold, and the last spirit is gone, then you can look at it as a "dead body".

I have been trying to get a deer off and on for the last 21 years but work has kept me from hunting quite a few of those years. This year it all came together. I took a week off work and met Al at his cabin early Monday afternoon. It was about 103 and too hot to do anything but sit out back and shoot the breeze until about 4pm. Once it started to cool off I headed out. I was headed for the ridge to the north of Al's cabin knowing that there was a large open flat area up there. On the way I got side tracked by a deer near the creek. I followed it for a while hoping to get a better look but I never saw more than quick flashes and don't even know if it was a buck or doe.

Once I got near the ridge I found a good spot where I could see for a ways and sat down next to a tree. In the evenings like this I try to become part of the landscape and just watch. Well it worked, the ants using the tree for a freeway thought I was part of the tree and started using me as part of their route. A half hour of this was enough and I went looking for a better spot. A short ways farther up the ridge I saw a doe watching me. I know that this time of year where there is a doe, there is often a buck near by. So I started walking real carefully and sure enough I saw a nice 2x2 watching me from under a tree. He was about 150 yards away and I could have taken the shoot kneeling but since he didn't seem spooked I wanted a better shooting position. I crawled backwards 15 yards until I had a good prone shot without grass or tree branches in the way. I was using my trusty 30-06 and at the shot he just fell over.

I called Al on the radio to let him know I had one. Although I was quite a ways from the road, dragging this deer out was easier than the pigs I had gotten before. It was down hill and there were some nice built in carrying handles on top of his head. By the time I got down to the road and met Al it was still hot and I was pretty tired. I told him to remind me never to go backpacking for elk. For some reason just because I got this deer after a few hours in the field on the first day of the hunt and got a pig in the first hours of a previous hunt. Al now thinks I'm good at this hunting stuff. Since it seems I get whatever I go after at his place. He wants me to come up for cape buffalo or elephant next time. I don't know about that, after all these years of frustration I'm happy enough with my deer.

If Dale come up and gets a a Cape Buffalo, the next hunt will be for a Unicorn. That should take a while. Varmint Al

I put these lines together for Varmint Al. We have a common interest in hunting, reloading and shooting sports and Al thought there might be many others out there that might find these thoughts interesting and maybe even useful in some way. If any of you out there find the ideas that I put forward interesting please let me know what you think.

The whitetails that we have in Finland were introduced in the wild by a Finn that emigrated to Virginia in the US, made it big and brought over some whitetails to the old country as a favor to fellow hunters. The whitetails are now doing fine and they thrive all over the coastal regions and the southern parts of Finland in increasing numbers. They have become a familiar part of the Finnish wildlife during the past 60 years. The hunting museum of Finland has an exhibit about whitetails if you would like to have more information. Don't worry about the language. English is available to some extent and there are some nice pictures.

In 1999 the annual license count is about 11,300 and since you are allowed to take two does for each adult license the total number of animals taken will be slightly more or approximately 12,000 deer taken each season.

I have visited the US and Canada several times and I have gradually familiarized myself with the hunting practices overseas. My understanding is that you don't use dogs nearly as extensively as we do over here in Finland or any of the Scandinavian countries for that matter. We hunt moose with dogs that approach the moose and tries to keep it from moving forward by running around it in circles. As long as the moose is standing the dog will bark vigorously thus covering the noise that the approaching hunter is making and keeping the moose occupied with the dog rather than the approaching hunter. It is of course elementary to approach from downwind and as quietly as possible. If the moose gets scared and decides to move in spite of the dogs efforts the dog will follow the animal quietly. If the dog barks as the moose is running this will scare the moose too much and the animal will move too far away. The idea is too keep the moose from moving and if it moves anyway the hunter following the dog (usually one or two hunters follow the dog) tries to direct the movement towards the hunters waiting quietly on nearby hillsides or well-known moose trails.

The whitetails don't allow a dog to approach them and they won't stop and let the dog run around them. This has encouraged the hunters to find other ways. In many cases you use beaters that line up and walk through a prospective deer area in a line or make a sweeping movement towards the hunters. Also you might want to wait by a farm field with crops still available for deer that turn up to feed. A more recent method is to use a dog that moves slowly along the deer's trail and keeps barking while it moves further along the trail sticking with the same deer all day if necessary. This resembles the rabbit hunts or foxhunts with one dog following the rabbit or the fox barking as it runs along. This is very exciting and many hunters can enjoy the hunt as they can all hear the dog. It is absolutely crucial to keep very quiet and still as the deer tries to pick up any alarming noise or movement as it runs along trying to avoid the noisy dog following it all over the place wherever it goes. During the rut some big bucks are not afraid of the dog and they might initially refuse to move. As the dog approaches and starts barking the deer will get nervous. Even the biggest bucks will move away at the very latest when they can pick up the noise or the scent of the approaching hunter following the dog. If you are lucky they sometimes stay until you can see them and you might have a chance to shoot.

When the dog finds the deer or a fresh trail it follows the trail closely and barks as it goes. If you follow the dog and you know the territory well you can now position yourself in order to prevent the deer from escaping. The goal is of course to intercept the deer's path and shoot when the animal arrives. Alternatively you can try to direct the deer towards the rest of the hunters waiting for the deer to turn up. They are standing quietly usually on hilltops or in specially placed towers keeping a keen eye on the surrounding terrain. As I'm sure many have experienced it is not always easy to detect a deer even if it is moving around.

This kind of deer hunting is very exciting. Several people can participate and there is a lot of tactics involved. If somebody has a long range rifle he can stay at a hill or a tower where long ranges are expected and somebody else with a rifle equipped with iron sights can take the brushy terrain.

The weather is a very important factor as is the time of year. If the rut is still on the bucks are not moving along the trails as expected but they can make strange loops as they pick up the scent of a prospective mate. Later in the season the weather might be clear, cold and there is still no snow. Under these conditions the deer are very nervous. They can hear the hunters very well and in many cases they move away well before the hunter has any chance of spotting the deer. As the snow arrives everything changes again. You can see which trails are in use and you can track the deer before you put the dog out. Perhaps surprisingly the snow doesn't affect the dogs work too much. Sure it might become slower if the snow is soft, but in many cases it is only the surface that is soft. The underlying layers are tough enough to carry the dog but the deer will fall through. You end up with a situation that is very favorable for the dog. Foggy and rainy weather or wet snow with little or no wind tends to be the days when you are most likely to succeed.

As the hunters keeps still and are looking for approaching deer they can hear the dog and suddenly you can hear the deer approaching only just out of sight or at a bad angle. Then you need to keep very still in order to allow your nearby friend to maybe have a try or wait for the deer to make a turn and come up close and maybe this time show itself. If you move when the deer passes it will most probably keep you in mind and avoid that spot during the rest of the day. Also since the dog moves comparatively slowly the deer approaches the hunter at a limited speed rather than in full speed and jumping up and down. This allows for controlled shot placement and selective hunting provided that you can keep your head clear at all times.

In order not to scare the deer too much the use of big dogs is prohibited. For deer you are allowed to use dogs that have a max height measured by the front legs of max 28 cm. The only dog to fulfill this restriction is the dachshund or the "wienerdog". I have a couple of these myself. My black bitch (smooth haired black and tanned, 3 years old) took a dozen whitetails this season. Among these was an eleven pointer with a weight of 85 kg (bones + meat only, guts+hide+head not included). Not bad for a 9,5 kg dog?

In January 2001 the dog brought on a whole group of deer during the last days of the season. There were seven animals traveling in the snow in a long row one after the other. I could see them and study them closely for several minutes as they approached without them having any idea of me and my intentions. I took the very last one with a shot behind the shoulder blades. The hit was a bit too far back. I estimated the needed advance wrong even if the deer wasn't moving very fast. The distance was the cause of it all exceeding 130 m. This was much more than I ever expected and so the hit was a bit too far back. The deer dropped almost immediately anyway, so all I had to do was to approach and put a second bullet in the head/neck area. Without the dog any of this would not have happened. Even if the hit would have been worse and the deer would have went on for say several hundred meters or so the dog would have found the deer immediately anyway. More on the dogs click here: Smooths

Al raised the question about introduced species and environmentalism and how the environmentalists feel about introduced species such as the whitetails. In this case they were introduced sometimes after WWII, that is 60 years ago so I guess there wasn't much environmentalism in those days. This winter there has been a discussion in our local papers about foreign species such as deer, mink, North American Beavers and raccoon dogs. The raccoon dog (I don't know if this is the correct name for this animal) looks a bit like the raccoon but is not related to it in any way. The size is somewhere between a badger and a raccoon and it has spread to Finland from the east from Russia where it was kept in farms in large numbers to produce fur. It lives much as a badger and we hunt it in the same way with dogs that are small enough to go into the den and brave enough to face an adversary that might be considerably heavier than the dog with sharp teeth and claws. The dog must also be clever enough not to get killed in the process or let the badger close the passages in the den in front and back of the dog. The discussion is e.g. about how our domestic beaver can be kept from breeding with the introduced beavers and which ones are going to survive. Anyway some of these animals were introduced on purpose (deer, beaver) and some simply escaped from captivity (mink, raccoon dog) and all of these are now spreading within Finland and moving on into neighboring countries such as Sweden. There has been increasing reports of raccoon dogs in Sweden during the past decades.

I have one more note about using hunting dogs in general. When I visited northern Ontario last fall the local hunters said that they had tried several dogs that were imported from Europe. They said that they seemed to work OK but the bears and wolves killed them or the moose were so aggressive and large as compared to our moose that they killed the dogs. Also the terrain was brushier and the dogs don't have the space they need to "work" the moose which makes it easy for the moose to kill the dog. So the idea was good but you don't look forward to training a new dog for every season.

It would be interesting to know if anybody has experience of this in areas with less large predators and a more suitable terrain. Also the details of the dogs used (breeding, training etc…) are of great importance. Sometimes it might also be a good idea to use several dogs rather than a single one.

I think there are regulations about the use of dogs in the US. This is probably also a major reason why dogs aren’t that popular in North America. It is very important to note the difference in the two kinds of dogs I have described. There was the dog that tries to keep the animal from moving and there was the dog that tries to keep the animal moving. On the latter ones we have very strict regulations on the size of the dog as I explained earlier. It isn't very sensible to put a big fast dog on a moose and listen to the dog taking off with the moose for several kilometers or miles as well for that matter. If you have a dog that you are training to hunt hares and foxes and it shows repeated interest towards deer and moose you either retire it to household duties as a pet or put it down.

Another aspect is that the hunting is usually taking place after the rut is finished. I think the North American hunt is timed to coincide with the rut. In Finland we try to avoid this in order to reserve enough time for the animals to reproduce. It might be that the moose are more aggressive in the middle of the rut and that they are more prone to attack and kill dogs. Email Ralf Sontag

NERD JOKE.... This truck driver hauling a tractor-trailer load of computers stops for a beer. As he approaches the bar he sees a big sign on the door saying:

The bartender comes over to him, sniffs, says he smells kind of nerdy, asks him what he does for a living. The truck driver says he drives a truck, and the smell is just from the computers he is hauling. The bartender says OK, truck drivers are not nerds, and serves him a beer.

As he is sipping his beer, a skinny guy walks in with tape around his glasses, a pocket protector with twelve kinds of pens and pencils, and a belt at least a foot too long. The bartender, without saying a word, pulls out a shotgun and blows the guy away. The truck driver asks him why he did that. The bartender says not to worry, the nerds are overpopulating the Silicon Valley, and are in season now. You don't even need a license, he said.

So the truck driver finishes his beer, gets back in his truck, and heads back onto the freeway. Suddenly he veers to avoid an accident, and the load shifts. The back door breaks open and computers spill out all over the freeway. He jumps out and sees a crowd already forming, grabbing up the computers. They are all engineers, accountants and programmers wearing the nerdiest clothes he has ever seen. He can't let them steal his whole load. So remembering what happened in the bar, he pulls out his gun and starts blasting away, felling several of them instantly.

A highway patrol officer comes zooming up and jumps out of the car screaming at him to stop.

BULL MEDICINE.... A rancher needs a bull to service his cows but needs to borrow the money from the bank. A banker lends the farmer the money, and stops by the following week to see how his investment is doing.

The farmer complains that the bull just eats grass and won't even *look* at the cows. The banker suggests that a veterinarian have a look at the bull.

The next week the banker returns to see if the vet helped. The farmer looks very pleased: "The bull has serviced all my cows, broke through the fence, and has serviced all my neighbor's cows."

WHAT'S IN A NAME?.... A guy walked into a pub and immediately noticed a young lady at the bar on her own. After a couple of drinks he decided to
offer her a drink and make small talk. She accepted.

"Well," she explained, "I like men and I like cars, so that is how I got my name. What's your name?"

THE BAD BEAR.... A bear walks into a bar in Billings, Montana and sits down. He bangs on the bar with his paw and demands a beer. The bartender approaches and says, "We don't serve beer to bears in bars in Billings"

The bear, becoming angry, demands again that he be served a beer. The bartender tells him again, more forcefully, "We don't serve beer to belligerent bears in bars in Billings"

The bear, very angry now, says, "If you don't serve me a beer, I'm going to eat that lady sitting at the end of the bar."

The bartender says, "Sorry, we don't serve beer to belligerent, bully bears in bars in Billings."

The bear goes to the end of the bar, and as promised, eats the woman. He comes back to his seat and again demands a beer.

The bartender says sorry, we don't serve beer to belligerent, bully bears in bars in Billings who are on drugs."

The bear states, "Sorry I'm not on drugs."

The bartender says, "You are now...... That was a barbitchyouate."

YOUNG FIREFIGHTER.... A fire fighter is working outside the station when he notices a little girl in a little red wagon with little ladders on the sides, a garden hose coiled in the middle, and wearing a fire fighter's helmet. The wagon is being pulled by her dog and her cat.
"That sure is a nice fire truck," the fire fighter says with admiration.
"Thanks," the girl says.
The fire fighter takes a closer look and notices the girl has tied the wagon to her dog's collar and to the cat's testicles.
"Little Partner," the fire fighter says, "I don't want to tell you how to run your rig, but if you were to tie that rope around the cat's collar, I think you could go faster."
The little girl replies thoughtfully, "You're probably right, but then I wouldn't have a siren."

THE RIBBONS.... A couple had a dog that snores. So the wife goes to the vet for help. The vet tells the woman to tie a ribbon around the dog's testicles and he will stop snoring. "Yeah right!" she says.

A few minutes after going to bed, the dog begins snoring as usual. The wife can't sleep; so she goes to the closet, grabs a piece of red ribbon and ties it carefully around the dog's testicles. Sure enough, the dog stops snoring! The wife is amazed!

Later that night, her husband comes home drunk. He climbs into bed, falls asleep, and begins snoring. The wife thinks maybe the ribbon will work on him, too. So she goes to the closet again, grabs a piece of blue ribbon, and ties it around her husband's testicles. Amazingly, it also works on him! The woman sleeps soundly.

The man wakes from his drunken stupor and stumbles into the bathroom. While he is standing in front of the toilet, he glances in the mirror and sees a blue ribbon tied around his privates.

He is very confused. When he walks back into the bedroom, he sees the red ribbon tied to his dog's testicles. He shakes his head, looks at the dog and says, " I don't know where we were or what we did; but, by God, we got first and second place!"

AT A RESTSTOP.... I was barely sitting down when I heard a voice from the other stall saying: "Hi, how are you?"
I'm not the type to start a conversation in the men's restrooms at a rest stop but, I don't know what got into me, so I answered, somewhat embarrassedly: "Doin Just Fine!"
And the other guy says: "So what are you up too?"
What kind of question is that? At that point, I'm thinking this is too bizarre so I say: "Uhhh I'm like you, just traveling east!"
At this point I am just trying to get out as fast as I can when I hear another question.
Can I come over to your place after while?
Ok, this question is just wacky but I figured I could just be polite and end the conversation.
I tell him, "Well, I have company over so today is a bad day for me!"
Then I hear the guy say nervously.......
"LISTEN, I'll have to call you back. There's an idiot in the other stall who keeps answering all my questions!"

A GOOD GUESS.... A shepherd was herding his flock in a remote pasture when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced out of the dust cloud towards him.
The driver, a young man in a Broni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and YSL tie, leaned out the window and asked the shepherd, "If I tell you exactly how many sheep you have in your flock, will you give me one?"
The shepherd looked at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looked at his peacefully-grazing flock and calmly answered, "Sure."
The yuppie parked his car, whipped out his IBM Thinkpad and connected it to a cell phone, then he surfed to a NASA page on the Internet where he called up a GPS satellite navigation system, scanned the area, and then opened up a database and an Excel spreadsheet with complex formulas. He sent an email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, received a response.
Finally, he prints out a 150 page report on his hi- tech, miniaturized printer then turns to the shepherd and says, "You have exactly 1,586 sheep".
"That is correct, take one of the sheep," said the shepherd.
He watches the young man select one of the animals and bundle it into his car. Then the shepherd says: "If I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my sheep?"
"OK, why not," answered the young man.
"Clearly, you are a consultant" said the shepherd.
"That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?"
"No guessing required," answers the shepherd. "You turned up here, although nobody called you. You want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked, and you don't know crap about my business. Now give me back my dog".

A HELPFUL SUGGESTION.... A little boy got on the bus, sat next to a man reading a book, and noticed he had his collar on backwards. The little boy asked why he wore his collar that way.
The man, who was a priest, said, " I am a Father."
The little boy replied "My Daddy doesn't wear his collar like that."
The priest looked up from his book and answered "I am the Father of many."
The boy said, "My Dad has 4 boys, 4 girls and two grandchildren and he doesn't wear his collar that way.
The priest getting impatient said "I am the Father of hundreds," and went back to reading his book.
The little boy sat quietly...but on leaving the bus he leaned over and said, "Well, maybe you should wear your pants backwards instead of your collar."

A FRIENDLY LIFT.... At the bus stop In a busy city at a crowded bus stop, a beautiful young woman was waiting for the bus. She was decked out in a tight leather mini-skirt with matching tight leather boots and jacket.
As the bus rolled up and it was her turn to get on the bus, she became aware that her skirt was too tight to allow her leg to come up to the height of the bus' first step. So, slightly embarrassed and with a quick smile to the bus driver, she reached behind her and unzipped her skirt a little thinking that this would give her enough slack to raise her leg.
Again she tried to make the step onto the bus, only to discover she still could not make the step.
A little more embarrassed, she once again reached behind her and unzipped her skirt a little more. And for a second time she attempted the step - and once again, much to her chagrin, she could not raise her leg because of the tight skirt.
With a coy little smile to the driver, she again unzipped the offending skirt to give a little more slack and again was unable to make the step.
About this time the big Texan who was behind her in the line picked her up easily from the waist and placed her lightly on the step of the bus. Well, she went ballistic and turned on the would-be hero, screeching at him, "How dare you touch my body! I don't even know who you are!"

At this the Texan drawled, "Well ma'am, normally I would agree with
you, but after you unzipped my fly three times, I kinda figured that we was friends."

SPIDERS IN A TEXAS GARDEN.... A father watched his daughter playing in the garden. He smiled as he reflected on how sweet and innocent his little girl was. Suddenly she just stopped and stared at the ground. He went over to her and noticed she was looking at two spiders mating. "Daddy, what are those two spiders doing?" she asked. "They're mating," her father replied.
"What do you call the spider on top, Daddy?" she asked. "That's a Daddy Longlegs." Her father answered. So, the other one is a Mommy Longlegs?" the little girl asked. No," her father replied. "Both of them are Daddy Longlegs."
The little girl thought for a moment, then took her foot and stomped them flat.
"That might be OK in California and Massachusetts, but we're not having any of that here in Texas"

THE MAYONNAISE JAR.... A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.

He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar.

Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous "yes."

The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things--your family, your children, your health, your friends, your favorite passions--things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

"The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else--the small stuff.

If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18.

There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal.

"Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter.

Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of beers.

THE BUFFALO THEORY.... (From an episode of 'Cheers', Cliff is seated at the bar describing the Buffalo Theory to his buddy, Norm.)
"Well you see, Norm, it's like this. A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members.
"In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Now, as we know, excessive intake of alcohol kills brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine. And that, Norm, is why you always feel smarter after a few beers" Q.E.D.

A POOR MEMORY?.... An old man approached the White House from the park across Pennsylvania Avenue where he'd been sitting on a park bench. He spoke to the US Marine standing guard and said, "I'd like to go in and meet with President Clinton." The Marine looked at the man and said, "Sir, Mr. Clinton is no longer president and no longer resides here." The old man said, "Okay" and walked away.

The following day, the same man approached the White House and said to the same Marine, "I would like to go in and meet with President Clinton." The Marine again told the man, "Sir, Mr. Clinton is no longer president and no longer resides here." The man thanked him and again, just walked away.

The third day, the same man approached the White House and spoke to the very same US Marine, saying "I would like to go in and meet with President Clinton." The Marine, understandably agitated at this point, looked at the man and said, "Sir, this is the third day in a row you've been here asking to speak to Mr. Clinton. I've told you already that Clinton is no longer president and no longer resides here. Don't you understand?"

The old man looked at the Marine and said, "Oh, I understand. I just love hearing it."
THE MARINE SNAPPED TO ATTENTION, SALUTED AND SAID, "SEE YOU TOMORROW, SIR!"

DIAMONDS.... Some days are diamonds and some days are stones. Some days are just a clod of dirt. Today was a 2 carat diamond. I had a chance to take a big Blacktail buck. He was perfect, with large symmetric horns and a heavy full body. I sat down and put up my Bi-Fur-Pod and had him in the scope and decided it would be better if he would do his thing with the does and pass on those good genes. I watched him walk over the top of a hill, stiff stepping out of sight. Later, I jumped a smaller buck with lesser horns and let him go also. Walked down the hill and setup a stand to call coyotes and jumped 5 wild pigs on the far hillside at about 120 yards. They were 100 pounders and calmed right down in a few seconds. They slowly rooted their way across the hillside. It was 1.5 miles back to the cabin and they were just too big to haul back alone, besides I like the 50 pounders better. I didn't get anything, but sure had plenty of chances and completely enjoyed the morning. A Diamond of a morning!

Having grown up having the run of several adjoining farms and woodlands and surrounded by all male cousins and young uncles, I must admit I grew up quite a "tomboy"! By age nine, I could run as fast, jump as far, shoot a pellet gun or throw a knife as well as they. Although I'd been safely "re-feminized" over the years, it seemed natural that I still be included in a few of their hunting trips -- this one, during Bow Deer Hunting season.

Exhausted by the bitter cold and fruitless near-dawn(!) to near-dusk trekking along snow-less northwoods trails, we dragged into our tent-camp early, added warmer jackets, and began stowing gear and cleaning up. The second team of our seven-person hunting party arrived mere minutes after us, reporting even worse luck than ours: they had not even seen a deer this whole first day! We sat as near the fire pit as we dared, scraping thick layers of mud from our boots and speculating in low, weary voices how best to achieve success on Day Two.

I was one of two eyeglass-wearing members of our party and, in lifting my head to reply to a question from my young nephew for whom this was a first hunt, I picked up an image of "something moving behind me" on the inside of my left eyeglass lens. Distorted by the lens' corrective curvature, it took me a startled moment to identify it as a deer.

My first thought was to whisper, "Everyone freeze!" and let a more seasoned hunter take a shot, but I realized everyone had loosened their bowstrings and secured their arrows -- except for me! ...One thing I was unable to do easily was string/unstring the sixty-pound bow I'd borrowed -- I had to do it "kiddie-style", stepping through and using my full body weight to adequately flex the bow and I wasn't about to let my male companions tease me about it, so planned to wait until they'd retired -- which looked to be any moment now -- and was dawdling over cleaning my boots.

Considering this, and almost without further conscious thought - and while continuing my answer to my nephew's question-- I reached discreetly past my extended right leg, caught an arrow's fletching between my fingertips; and, in one unexpectedly fluid motion, managed to secure my bow, transfer it to my left hand, nock the arrow as I brought the bow into position and rise and pivot on my left knee. Seeing the confused animal's eyes fix on me and its ears twitch in my direction, I too-hastily pulled and let fly -- yet put an arrow cleanly through the base of his neck.

The camp went silent. I thought I'd missed -- the deer continued his small, tentative steps toward our camp. Then he opened his stance, staggering like a newborn to keep his footing; took four- five more steps toward us; and finally sank with unbelievable grace to his knees, neck extended as if still straining forward ...then died looking up into the eyes of my sixteen-year-old nephew who now knelt beside me with his back to the fire.

I only vaguely recall the celebration, carcass-dressing, etc. which followed; but will never forget exactly how it felt to make that kill, to hear -almost feel-- my arrow thunk into that solid body.

And neither, I guess, will my nephew forget that near-dusk shared adventure; the way the light faded from the animal's eyes; the way its every breath produced a smaller cloud of mist -- to this day, nearly twenty years later, he will carry only a camera into the woods each year....

Al, several months back I purchased a 7mm Lazzeroni Tomahawk barrel from Virgin Valley Custom. I had been having several problems with the ejector in the barrel, and turns out it was too long, and was causing some problems with ejection of the spent casing. I removed it and gently worked it down to a smooth surface, and polished it with Flitz... Works like a million bucks!

How do you polish the chambers in your Encore rifle? (Q-tip & drill or a dremel?) My Tomahawk has just a hideously rough chamber, and the casings look mighty crappy when fired in that chamber (sandblasted looking with rings around the brass from chamber cutting). I read your chamber polishing portion of the site, and I am thinking about polishing my chambers.. I want to polish the chamber but don't know how to go about it. Any information is appreciated.

I reloaded for my tomahawk using tips and instructions extracted mostly from your reloading web page. I found that your methods of reloading are easy to follow and precise. I made the best ammunition ever by following your instructions!! Thanks so much for taking the time to post all of your knowledge on this website.. I access it frequently and can't say enough about what a great resource it is for any shooter...beginner to pro.

Attached is a picture of a pronghorn that was shot in Northern Colorado on the 29 Sept 2001 (may take some time to load). I made a long stalk on him while he was chasing a coyote with a smaller buck and a doe, and not paying attention to me!! (only time a coyote is really useful). One shot with the Tomahawk did him in.. What Excitement!!

The evening of September 28th brought me excitement thinking about how many large bucks roamed the private land I would be able to hunt the next morning. It has taken me 4 years to draw a tag here in Northern Colorado; a place I have taken smaller bucks, but dreamed of more. Jerry, a good friend of mine, told me of a large antelope buck he had seen a week previous while working cattle on horseback. The land here is seemingly flat and you wouldn't think a mouse would be able to hide here...but you'd be wrong. This area holds some of the largest mule deer and antelope bucks in Colorado. Just 2 years ago, some friends of mine killed 2 large mule deer bucks 10 miles east of here. The first a 7x7 with a 32.5" inside spread, and the other a 9x6 non-typical with a 5.5" drop tine on the right antler 33" inside spread.

Saturday the 29th brings a beautiful red sunrise, and a brisk breeze across the plains, and the hope of connecting with a good buck. The first knoll we drive over we spot a herd about 300 yards with a one-horn buck, as we proceed through the pasture we discover a large red canyon with gullies and washes; great potential for hiding antelope. It is 8:30 now and we have seen 13 mediocre bucks, the smallest of which have horns in the 10-13 inch class; any one of which I could have taken, but come on...It's only the first day!!

We now venture to another plot of land with a large torn flat-top hill, which offers us a good place to glass the country. As we drive over the top, a very wide and stout-looking majestic buck startles from his bed and stops broadside...Should I shoot? I glass him some more and decide to let him go. The more I think about letting him go, the more I get bothered, but then I think to myself "how many people in this world get an opportunity to do this?" We move on.
9:13 is the time I last looked at my watch when we drive through a ravine and park. As we come up over the top of the lip of the ravine; there stands the stout-looking buck, and to the right, another buck that blows him away. "We need to try for that buck" I whisper to Jerry. We laid there in the dust of the plains and made our game plan for an approach on the bucks, which now stand 575 yards distant. Jerry says "let's use this small wash to get a better look at that other buck". We close the distance to 400 yards, but the distance is too far with a 25 mph crossing wind for a shot, but I make the determination that we would make a stalk on the larger buck. We approach the flat-topped hill as he feeds over the top onto the other side. Jerry and I run like hell to cover some distance before we catch this buck's attention. About that time the large buck came running from the other side of the hill and ran across the pasture at 60 mph. He ran under a fence and proceeded to take another smaller buck's harem of ladies (2 does), and beat the heck out of him. They crossed again and came trotting across the pasture and over the hill again.

Five minutes of glassing brought the animals running over the hill again, but why? "Nobody else hunts this property" says Jerry. "Look, a coyote!" exclaims Jerry. The antelope surrounded the coyote and began to kick the hell out of him... I will tell you now that I have yet to see a coyote that can outrun a pronghorn! We watched as the coyote bared his teeth with his ears back; tail between his legs. The antelope harassed him about 7 minutes before he ran over the hill with the antelope not far behind. It was now or never.. Jerry and I ran to get on top of the hill knowing the buck was on the other side. We came to the crest of the hill and couldn't see a thing until Jerry peeked over the other side of the hill and dropped like his arms gave out " Tad... that buck is RIGHT BELOW US FEEDING!!" says Jerry. I peer over the hill and all I see is 2 prongs. I cock the hammer on my Virgin Valley Custom Encore in 7mm Lazzeroni Tomahawk and peer through the Burris scope as the buck gets wind of us. The next few moments seemed like an eternity....

The buck was a downhill shot (about 70 yds): a 75 degree angle and I missed his spine by 1/4 of an inch shooting a foot high! ...DAMMIT! I totally forget to hold low shooting downhill, I popped open the Encore action, slammed home a fresh round, and picked up the buck running now at 200+ yds waiting for him to stop for a shot. I have practiced endlessly at long range shooting because most pronghorn I have taken have been closer to 300 yards (sometimes you just can't get closer). Now this buck was getting into my shooting territory (close to 300 yards counting fence posts). He made the mistake of stopping to run under a barbed-wire fence as I squeeze the trigger between my now pounding heart-beats. THWOCK!! the big boy runs in a semi-circle and staggers a distance before collapsing. His horns measure 15 7/8" on left and 16" on right. What an animal!!! This pronghorn was particularly important for me because it was shot with a custom gun, which I worked hard for, and shot with my own premium manufactured ammunition. I want to sincerely thank Varmint Al for the tips and treasures on shooting and reloading which made this dream possible. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed telling it.

First Varmints
by Dave in Texas
cicadia.jpg (8350 bytes)

It rained all last weekend; couldn't hunt anything. I got to thinking about my first varmint hunting adventures. I was the great locust [Cicada] hunter at the age of six. I hunted almost every Summer day. I used a Daisy BB gun and shot these critters out of the trees and feed them to the ducks. Soon the ducks figured out the plan and upon seeing me with the gun or hearing the first shots, would come on the run.

Sometimes a locust would not be dead as it fell from the tree and would continue to make a lot of noise. This noise occasionally would continue even after a duck had swallowed the locust whole. This noise would now be coming from inside the ducks neck [craw]. Other ducks would now chase this duck, thinking that he was holding a locust in his mouth. Of course he didn't understand why all these guys were chasing him and sometimes it was one hell of a rodeo. I've been told that it was quite a sight to see the barefoot kid in the bib overalls walking around with 6 or 8 ducks, all looking up in the branches of the cottonwood and pisselm trees.

After nearly 50 years, dozens of rifles, thousands of prairie dogs, hundreds of coyotes, a few fox and bobcat, numerous deer, elk, antelope, one mountain lion, and a bear, on rainy days, I remember most the BB gun, the locust, and the ducks. Funny.

Got My First Groundhog!
By Kirk in Ohio Sept. 29, 1999

It all began when I bought my Ruger 77/22 Hornet (not the varmint model) with a 3-9X Bushnell back in March. Started reloading with much help from the Go Go Varmint Go Message Board and hit the range. Best groups about 2 inches at a hundred yards now but I'm still working up - I'm at about 75% of max Alliant 2400 and .030 from lands. The 45gr. bullets have consistently outperformed the 40 gr. bullets. My bench setup is simply a soft sided cooler with just me supporting the butt. Also use my "Bi-Fur-Pod" courtesy of Varmint Al's advice.

My first two varmint hunting experiences were duds as far as kills but fun nonetheless. First time called in a mess of crows and missed at 20 yards straight up with my 20 ga. double. Second time overshot 2 groundhogs at about 100 yards with the Ruger.

The charmed third time came Monday evening. I hit the range in the afternoon and tested the 45 Sierra SP, 40 Nosler SBT, 45 Hornady HP Bee. Amazingly, the HP Bee, a pistol bullet I think, shot the best again but I only had two left so I zeroed in right on at 100 yds with the 45 gr. Sierra SP.

I went to the Grand River Wildlife Area and setup downwind just inside the woods bordering a plowed Dove field maintained by the Ohio DNR. (Should I be giving up my spot??). Got settled at about 6:00 PM after making a hell of a lot of noise (have to work on that). Weather cloudy, South wind, intermittent light rain. Had a tri-pod seat and my Bi-Fur-Pod shooting sticks, Backwoods Off, binoculars, khaki pants, olive T-shirt, no jewelry, and a little rubbed dirt on my face. Heard a lot of sounds behind me of course but nothing out in the field.

After about an hour I was about to give up and do some scouting around with the 20 minutes or so left to sunset. Then I saw something that hadn't been there before right at the edge of some scrub. Does it always happen like this? Where the critter just appears and you never see him get there?? Kind of spooky. Anyway, at first it looked like a big gray pigeon (I live in the city guys). I slowly got the binoculars up and saw a nice hog standing up. As for distance I really had no idea but figured it was less than a hundred yards. Now I'm real excited and fumble a bit getting the rifle up on the Bi-Fur-Pod. I look through the scope and there's kind of a double crosshair because of some plant in front of me is partially in front of the scope. I decide to use the darker of the two crosshairs and took a few deep breaths to settle down. Got a good smooth squeeze on the trigger and shot, crosshairs right in his middle. Lost the picture for a split second then back to see his ass-end tumbling away from me. Couldn't really tell if I got him and waited around about two minutes (felt like an hour) to see if any more showed up. I walked 65 paces to the spot and saw him dead as doornail about 3 feet from his hole. Got him right under the left forearm. A tobacco-spit size blood splotch and a hole about the size of a big nickel.

How did I feel? This was the first time I killed something other than a fish or a bug. The adrenaline was still going and I felt good. There is much work in the process of getting to this point. Fun work to be sure but you can't just go out and shoot some wild animal without preparation. I looked him over real good and felt his fur, looked at his nice set of teeth, little hands. This may sound corny but I felt "appreciative" of the little bugger. I do have some nagging misgivings about not "harvesting" him-skinning him or eating him (I don't know how to do either one). But as I tossed him into the woods I figured creatures from the fox to the ant would not let him go to waste. Plus he plays a part in the process of getting to be a better hunter so clean kills can be made on critters I will eat, like squirrels and rabbits.

All in all a super time and I can't wait to get out again. On the way out of the woods in the dark I thought I heard what sounded like a coyote bark.....Oh boy!

FIRE & ICE -- GROUND SQUIRREL HUNT.... The Alturas Fire & Ice ground squirrel shoot, April 1998. Last Tuesday we headed up to Alturas. It is a 350 mile drive north-east from Bethel Island. The clouds were just ahead all the way. We were expecting rain, but about 40 miles from Alturas, the first precipitation occurred. It was hail. We arrived in Alturas abut 3:00PM and checked into the Motel. No tents or campfire cooking. We were going to live well while on the hunt.

We drove out to the ranches and talked to the farmers and verified our permission to hunt their fields, approximately 2.5 sections. They were happy to see us. We drove over to the south section and were going to test our rifles. I started in the south field with the 223, but I was not doing very well. It was cold and I was having difficulty spotting my hits. I was trying to judge the wind and then I discovered I was 2" high and correcting for wind didn’t help that. About the time I had things corrected, the heavy wind and hail returned and after sitting in the truck for a while, I called the other guys on the ham radio. We decided it was time for happy hour and dinner. It was very cold. It snowed about 2 inches Tuesday night.

Wednesday morning after a good breakfast, we hit the fields at just about 9:00AM. The gloves, long johns, and thermal boots felt good. I had my ear plugs held in with my AM radio headset tuned to Rush Limbaugh. The only way to hunt! The snow was not quite solid cover, so it was still a bit difficult to spot the ground squirrels. They were out crawling all over the place. The young crop was out along with the adults. The adult squirrels are about 9" long and the young are about 5" from nose to tail. That is not a large target at 200 yards. I started the morning with my 17 Ackley Hornet. I was passing up 10 to 50 yd shots and taking shots out to 200 yards with squirrels crawling all around me. After 100 rounds, with the close critters were attacking and I switched to my 22 LR Match barrel and went through 150 rounds before noon. The hail/sleet was coming at about 30 minute intervals and only lasting about 5 to 10 minutes. It was bouncing off, so I would just turn my back to the wind and let it pass. The squirrels were still coming up in between the hail. This is not optimum for hunting. My buddies were hunting in the south section and I could hear them shooting their 223's over Rush in the headset and the wind. By 1:00PM I was really getting cold and a quick call on the ham radio and we all agreed a hot lunch sounded good. After lunch, the front hit and there was not a single drop of rain, but hail, sleet, frozen rain, and snow. We packed it in for the day.

Thursday with full cold gear on we were back in the fields by 9:00AM and it was just broken clouds and cold. The squirrels would come popping out every time the sun hit the ground, then when a cloud would go over, a few stragglers would stay out and the rest just disappeared. I was using the 17 Mach IV and it was right on, but the BSA scope was poor in the bad light. I was doing fairly well with it at 18X, but couldn’t see very much with it cranked up to 24x. I was in an area like an amphitheater with squirrels out to 300 yards for about 200 degrees. I use a short lawn chair and my Bi-Fur-Pod for support. The chair has a pocket on the seat back that easily holds two or three 50-boxes of ammo. I went through 150 rounds only moving about 50 yards. Dick and Lee had found a large colony and were shooting at about 1 minute intervals. They called on the radio and confirmed the hot spot. Then I switched over to my 22 K-Hornet and moved over the top into the next bowl and went through 100 rounds from the top shooting down. I had bypassed lunch and by 5:00PM was starting to get hungry. Also the clouds were only in small patches and I was starting to feel sunburn. I finished off the day with a few 17 Mach IV and decided it was dinner time. I stopped at the drugstore in town and bought some sun block!

Friday morning, Dick and Lee headed home and I was hunting solo. There was not a cloud in the sky. Rush in my earphones and sun block on my face, I hit the north section with the 223 and went through about 173 rounds. The 33 gr. V-Max moly coated bullets with 26.7 gr. of H322 really reach out to 300 yards easily. At first there was not very much wind and it was easy at that distance. After an hour or so, the wind started to kick up and it was variable. I would have wind one direction where I sat and blowing an opposite direction at the bullet impact point. Carefully watching the dust cloud at impact gives good info for the next shot, but not always. When the ground squirrels stand straight up, they are only about 2" wide and 9" tall. That makes a tuff target in the wind. I can judge the drop fairly well, but windage is more difficult. On the very long shots, I was waiting for the squirrels to get back on all four to take the shot. By noon, I went over to another natural amphitheater with short grass and a few trees. This was on the third ranch and was Dick's favorite place, but he was somewhere south of Sacramento by that time. I switched back to the 17 Ackley Hornet and pretty well swept this area clean. A crew of young kids (college kids) drove up. Three were sitting on the hood of the car with their girlfriend driving. They were driving through the fields blasting away. They were getting a few. I stopped and talked to them and showed them the 17 Ackley Hornet and they really thought it was nice. I gave them one of my Varmint Hunting cards and told them to check the web page. I finished off the day with the 22 LR and was getting pretty shot out by 5:30PM. The sun block worked, but it was time for a cool one.

22 LR Match 22" Contender Carbine barrel, 4-14x by 50mm Leupold, 300 rounds CCI Blazer

17 Ackley-Hornet 22" Contender bull barrel, Weaver 4-16x by 42mm, 200 rounds 20 gr. Berger MEF moly & N-133, 3300 fps

22 K-Hornet 22" Contender bull barrel, 3-9x compact Leupold EFR, 100 rounds 33 gr. V-Max moly & H110, 3050 fps

17 Mach IV 22" Contender bull barrel, 6-24x by 44mm BSA, 150 rounds 20 gr. Berger moly & H322, 3600 fps

223 Mod 700 Rem PSS, 4-18x Sightron, 173 rounds 33 gr. V-Max moly & H322, 3675 fps

Total of 923 rounds with hits averaging about 80%. Approximately 24 hours in the field. That averages to about 38 rounds per hour. Dick and Lee together fired about 500 rounds.

In four days, we only hunted about 10 percent of the ranch land area that we had permission on and probably got about half of the ground squirrels on the area where we hunted. The three of us got about 1,140 total. Using that estimation, there are approximately 21,600 Belding's ground squirrels, sage rats, or picket pins (whatever you want to call them) still running around in the alfalfa fields of those three ranches. That is a lot of squirrels and they do tremendous damage to the fields. Each group have about 3 mounds and clear the tops of a 20' diameter circle of alfalfa and then eat the roots and finally kill the plants. Family groups appear to be about 30 to 50 ft apart. There is a large wildlife preserve in the area and the ranchers are not permitted to use any kind of poison. They have tried traps, vacuum cleaners and various other techniques to control their numbers without success. That is why they are so happy to have shooters. The period from late March to early May is the only shooting time I know of. After the middle of may, the alfalfa is too tall to see the squirrels. There is a few days after each cutting that the grass is short enough and it is possible for a hunt. In the summer and fall hot weather, the squirrels stay underground and essentially hibernate.

The most fun was with the 22 K-Hornet. It is a perfect caliber for this type of shooting. The 3-9x scope was a bit low on magnification, but still worked very well. I was able to spot all of my hits and make corrections for wind and distance. The next best was the 17 Ackley Hornet, but the Weaver scope is not very good at the higher magnifications. I could only spot about half my shots with the 223. Even with the 33 V-Max, the recoil was enough to miss spotting about half the shots with it. For the close in young ground squirrels, the 22 LR is fine out to about 75 yards. But you have to be way out in the back fields because it ricochets once in a while. The 4-14x Leupold is a bit much for a 22 LR, but I need it for low light conditions around the island. It would have been better it that Leupold scope had been on the 223.

While shooting, it is bad when the seagulls move in. They come in large numbers and put all of the squirrels down. Other birds in singles will also put the squirrels down for only a few minutes. We saw a number of red tail hawks, white tailed kites, and golden eagles. The hawks and kites land out in front while the shooting is going on and eat squirrels. They pay no attention to the gunshots. I have shot squirrels 10 or so feet from behind them, so there would be no ricochet, without them even looking up. The eagles land and pick up the squirrels and fly off. The eagles will also attack a hawk and take the squirrel and fly off. We also saw a number of ferrets. I spotted one drag a squirrel down a hole and then head off looking for more. They were also not gun shy. There are a lot of Canada geese up there in the area raising their young too, but not in the alfalfa fields. The farmers put old tires with a plywood bottom on fence posts for them to nest in. That way the coyotes can't get the baby geese. Late Friday, I took a drive up the road to Cedarville and counted 31 mule deer and 3 antelope out in the sagebrush flats. There is a lot of wildlife in the Alturas area.

All in all, it was a good trip. Next year some better glass for the 17 Ackley Hornet and the 223 and more 22 K-Hornet rounds. Hopefully, not so much bad weather would be nice too.!

The 17 Ackley Hornet now has a new scope which is much better. The scope is a Nikon 6.5-20x by 44 Matt Finish, Fine Crosshair.

Ode To The Coyote Hunter
by Robert H. Miller

They loaded their dogs in the pickup truck,
There was Shirley, Buster, Old Guide, and Buck.
They headed on out to higher ground,
The wind was calm, you could hear for miles around.

They gathered up more as they went along,
When they got there they were about fifteen strong.
They turned the dogs loose with a breeze in their face,
Anticipating a wonderful race.

They were scattered around, Ott was telling a tale,
When Shirley's dog struck a hot trail.
It sounded like he had it, and was already gone,
When some more put in and the race was on.

The CB blared out, said "Come in Buck,
From where you're at, you outta be in luck!"
"You better move on up or you'll be late,
They're gonna cross about the old section gate!"

They all took off like a rocket to Mars,
There were five or six pickups, and two or three cars.
But that old coyote, he wasn't so dumb,
He turned right back, the way he had come.

He crossed the road, right where they'd been
He circled North and came right back again!
He seemed to enjoy it till the going got rough,
Then he went in a cave at the base of a bluff.

The caught all their dogs and headed on in,
Just waiting for the day they could do it again.
They'll be back out there come rain or snow,
Cause when you get it in your blood, you gotta go!

Copyright: Staci L. Dye

Al, we are back from Cedarville. The people are great up there. It is a small community of 10 stores, (3 restaurants, 2 markets, 2 motels, post office, Chevron gas station, Auto Parts, etc).

I stayed at the "Sunrise Motel" which I might point out is as nice as some I've stayed at in bigger cities. Sue, the owner, couldn't be more friendlier if she tried. My wife stayed at the motel during the days, while I hunted, and Sue made sure she came over and talked and checked on her each day. Gave myself and my friend nice ball caps, and upon learning that we were coming back through Reno, gave my wife $3.00 in quarters to bring her luck (which didn't quite work).

I drove up on March 24th and hit heavy rain from about Williams and it came down hard all the way until I got to Burney, CA., then it stopped. What a pretty drive up through Burney, Fall River Mills, and Alturas.

Made it to Cedarville about 3:30 PM under very dark skies. Checked in relaxed, went to dinner at the "Country Hearth Restaurant" and met two fellows from Concord and Walnut Creek. Small world!

Next morning got up and found beautiful skies and the sun brightly shining. I went out to some recently planted and drug alfalfa fields that Chris Knoch, my rancher, recommended I start on, and found upon arriving at the fields little squirrel heads poking out of all the boroughs in this 75 acre field. The alfalfa was just starting to bloom and was only in just starting to come up and the stubble was only 3-4 inches at the thickest spots. The field was drug clean two weeks ago and there were hundreds of mounds all over.

I setup my bench, (see the photo) and proceeded to knock down one Belding's ground squirrel after another. I used mainly my Howa 223 (heavy barrel). The 223 does a great job on those little guys.