The Shape of Waterfowl
I am only at the start of my second season as a waterfowler. This affords me leeway in folly, and wonder in discovery. It is truly a great time to exist, as I know enough to be able to go but still feel the need to learn. Though, like most hunting, I have no doubt it will be easy to learn and impossible to master. I still find myself fascinated by the art behind a good decoy spread, and an art it is. There are rules, yes, but they can all be broken. No two landscapes are ever going to be similar enough for a person to be able to share more than an outline. All I know is birds like to land into the wind, they don’t like to land over top of decoys, and do your best to place decoys four to six feet apart. The rest is experience and imagination that just can’t find its way into words, or so I get the impression.
My primary focus has been geese, they provide more meat, they prefer the open farm fields of Alberta, as opposed to ducks who prefer swamps. The biggest and most important factor is that geese are what my friends chase, and they have all the gear to do it. I just have to show up. Amazing the guided hunting trip a case of beer will get you in some parts.
My most recent trip brought a strange memory back to me. I have hunted a wide range of animals and as a result, have shot a lot of animals. Only geese have reminded me of a story I read in elementary school. I was in the blind with Tyler and his girlfriend, Kendra, when a lone goose flew close enough for a shot. In my hour of amateurism, I stood up and took a shot, spooking another, larger, bunch on the way in. It was a selfish maneuver and inexperience was my accomplice, it was a lesson in communication. My 10 gauge split the cool morning air and hit its mark. The goose instantly, mid-air, curled its wings in, locked its neck down, and fell to the ground like a feathered cannonball. At that moment all I could remember was sitting in my 5th-grade classroom hearing the teacher read ” He neither stirred nor fell, but every line of his body had altered.” I searched around recently and found it is from “Shooting an Elephant” By George Orwell an anti-imperialism essay that’s worth a read. At the time of reading that story, I thought it a touch silly and perhaps a case of the author dramatizing. Animals almost always react to being hit, but I have never seen such a fast, dramatic, and all-encompassing change. Maybe only some animals do it, or maybe only some people see it. So I have to ask myself, is it me or the goose?
Of my total of 2 trips this season (there are many more on the way, don’t worry). We were in no danger of limiting out, by which I mean we did not come close to getting the maximum daily amount allowed by law. Limiting is always the goal and certainly a feather in the hat of any hunter. We did, however, get enough for me to test goose meat in my burger recipe. They work great if you just substitute ground goose for venison or if you are extra sensitive to that gamey taste or are cooking for someone who is… picky. Just up the bacon to cut down that wild flavour. I made a YouTube video chronicling my first goose burger attempt. If you want to see some footage from last year’s hunting, look here.
Posted in How-To, Hunting, Recipe, Videowith no comments yet.
Types Of Gun Owners
This article was originally published in the May/June 2018 National Firearms Journal which is published by the NFA (https://nfa.ca/)
I was recently at my friend Brad’s house for what turned out to be an unsuccessful coyote hunt. While there I realized he and I both had 243 Winchesters that were very different firearms, almost comically so. Mine is an old Ruger M77 international that I had purchased used many years ago and have babied ever since. Brad’s was a spray-painted Savage model 11 that I doubt has ever seen the business end of a bore mop. It got me thinking – to him that gun is a tool, a dedicated truck or quad gun. It’s not meant to be pretty, it’s meant to perform. To me, my gun is a work of art or a piece of history and something that needs to be taken care of. I hand load for it, clean it after every use, and show it off proudly. I even went out of my way to find a high gloss scope to put on it to match the bluing. I have a real soft spot for its full-length mannlicher stock… even if it likely is the cause of my 2 MOA groups.
Two Very Different .243s
This topic of tools versus collectibles got me thinking about other people I know. My brother, for example, is more minimalist, you see it in his home with his sparse and well-placed furniture. My house has the cozy and full feel of a used book store, or a hoarders garage, depending on your taste. Our interior design styles are also reflected in our gun collections. My brother owns about a half a dozen guns, all with very different and specific purposes. I, on the other hand, own nearly thirty firearms. I love to find an obscure caliber and research all about it. I was tickled pink when my Great Uncle gave me my Great Grandfathers Savage 99 in 250-3000 (now referred to as 250 Savage), in large part because that cartridge is so fascinating to me. It came out in 1915 in the model 99 and was able to deliver an 87-grain bullet at 3000 fps, hence the 250-3000 but it was found that a 100-grain bullet was more effective for deer. I hope to use it on a deer this coming fall, for old time sake. I intend to use a modern well-constructed 87-grain bullet. Needless to say, rarities and oddities find an easy home in my safe. One of my first guns was a Savage 29B rimfire 22 LR, I found it in my father’s garage in pieces with a few bits missing. I managed to round up what was needed and turn it into a wonderful little rifle. It’s iron sights and oiled wood stock are a stark contrast of my brothers Ruger 10/22 in a Tapco stock with all kinds of bells and whistles bolted on. Both great guns, but I wouldn’t trade him.
Many of my firearms, to me, seem to represent a strange optimism. Perhaps I read too much Capstick, but years ago I got it in my head I needed a 375 Holland and Holland for my “someday” trip to Africa. I ended up getting my hands on a CZ 550 magnum with a beautiful wood stock. It was one of the only guns I could find that had a set of sights on it, a requirement for my romanticized version of a safari rifle. I’m still saving for that trip to chase a big duggaboy through the brush, but truth be told, I think my gun is worth more than I’ve got in that piggy bank.
I know I am not alone in my craziness. I once had a friend tell me, he hates using a new deer rifle for hunting. He likes to have an old one, preferably one that HE has shot a deer with before. Its got that good deer hunting mojo to it, which I totally understand. Its a strange kind of worry when you take a new deer gun into the field. What if it doesn’t know what it’s doing? I also once worked with an old man that said: “I don’t collect guns, I collect works of art, Roy Weatherby is my favorite artist.” I dare you to take a look at a Lazermark and tell me he’s wrong.
So what happens to people like us? To people who have a penchant for all things obsolete, forgotten, broken, or bruised? To be honest it will be our spouses and our wallets that suffer. I know I have never turned down a cheap gun in need of restoring. My collection has now justified its own room in our home. Maybe we can’t let these guns go because they remind us of ourselves, old relics the world has deemed obsolete and moved on from. Or maybe we are just hopeless romantic contrarians who read too many damn books.
Our stuck side by side that gave me time to think
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Waterfowl Hunting, and The Delicate Art of Long Term Planning
I would like to say this is the story of how I went goose hunting. About how we canceled their flight plans, then gorged ourselves on goose jerky and cheap beer… but deep down, that’s only half the story. To me, this story doesn’t start in a goose blind at 5 am. Being the cheesy romantic I am (don’t believe me? read some other stories), maybe this story should start nearly a decade ago.
Many years ago, when the Canadian long gun registry was in full swing, the people that didn’t want to deal with registration either hid or sold their firearms. Those that chose to sell were often, in my experience, older gentlemen who hadn’t hunted in many years and who had kids who weren’t into it. It was a complicated situation for a young, gun hungry, boy like me. It was sad to me to see people getting out of it, but it was nice the guns were going back onto the market. The firearms were often quite inexpensive, but they were still more than I could afford given the cost of my education combined with my part-time employment. One instance, that is relevant, is when my brother and I bought some shotguns in this fashion. I walked away with a bolt action Marlin 12 gauge with a comically long barrel and an H&R 10 gauge single shot break action for $60 a piece, a comically low price for comically unique guns. My brother came away with a side-by-side .410 for about $100 if memory serves, I would later purchase it from him and use it for many years for grouse hunting. Years later, someone I had met through my work at Wholesale Sports bought one of the shotguns, the bolt action, from me for $260. He wanted it bad and I was hesitant to sell until he told me the price. I think that is the only time anyone anywhere has made money via guns. Its been nearly 10 years and I have gotten a lot of offers for that old 10 gauge, just a basic cheap single shot shotgun, but in a gauge that people want, just so they can say they have it. I always declined because someday I might want it for goose hunting. A pastime I had never participated in, but someday hoped to.
In 2016 my brother and I finally went goose hunting, with my friend Brad. We laid out in coffin blinds and froze our cheeks off, listening to geese in the distance and saw exactly one bird, a crow. So two years later when Brad offered to take me again I was hesitant, but I was also a few drinks deep at a wedding so naturally, I agreed to go. When I sobered up and thought about it, I decided I best go do it. For one, I do believe you should do sober what you said you would do drunk, two, I needed to justify keeping that gun all those years, and three, goose hunting still, genuinely, looked like fun.
Friday I packed up and headed to Brad’s. I loaded up two shotguns: my 10 gauge and a semi-auto Benelli 12 gauge my uncle had given me. My plan was to use them both and see which I liked more. Some small part of me wanted the $60 single shot H&R to outperform the $1600 Benelli. Deep down I had a suspicion that the single shot would come up short. I arrived at Brad’s late in the evening. My intention was to go to bed immediately but Brad insisted on a few beers and some TV first. By the end of it, I had gone to bed at 1 AM. At 5 AM he woke me up for hunting, how he looked so crisp and ready for the day eludes me, I guess welders just know how to burn at both ends.
I drug my sad slug of a body out of bed and got dressed. Our friends, who were also brothers, Tyler and Dylon, were already there and starting to load their gear into the trailer with the blind and the decoys. We finished loading up and headed to our spot, a field by Brad’s parent’s house. We found a spot that looked good, it had a bit of a headwind and some short trees near a fence where we put our blind. It was a big homemade contraption made of rebar and burlap, it looked somewhat like a hay bale and comfortably sat the four of us on chairs. While setting out the decoys I couldn’t help but marvel at the stars shining through the early morning darkness, you just don’t get that in the city. We set out the decoys in a big L shape to give geese a pocket to land in, and then we sat and waited for daylight. We sat and chatted and generally enjoyed ourselves. Deep down, my hands were cold and I feared this hunt would be a repeat of my last attempt at goose hunting.
Daylight slowly broke and there wasn’t a bird in the sky. I started to wonder if I was bad luck. I sat with the butt of the Benelli on my thigh and the barrel rested against the blind. When suddenly I heard it, we all heard it, geese in the distance. All three of my companions started hammering their goose calls. We watched the group fly over, circle behind us and come in to land. Dylon, on my right, whispered “wait, wait, wait, wait… now!” we all opened fire and birds fell. A wave of emotion flooded over me, I was relieved that I wasn’t some bad luck charm, and I was nearly giddy at the thought of finally getting my first goose. We ran out and collected the geese and set them out of sight behind the blind. We had a few more waves come in and managed to get a few more geese. Dylon and Tyler also got lucky on some ducks that passed by.
We started noticing Geese were coming in but backing off last minute or simply flying over with no interest in landing. Dylon made the call the rearrange the decoys, his thought was that the area for landing was too small so we needed to split the decoys into two groups. We rushed out and did our best to rearrange. Just as we were finishing up, we could hear geese in the distance. We B-lined for the blind, half crouching, half diving through the small door at the side. In minutes the sky was black with geese, I had never seen anything like it. As they started to land we were afraid to shoot and scare off the geese behind them. There were enough that when groups flew over I could feel the wind from their wings push down onto us. Between being in awe and not wanting to frighten away other birds we did the hunting equivalent of painting ourselves into a corner. All the geese had landed… This left us in a bit of a spot, shooting waterfowl on the ground is a somewhat debated topic in hunting. There’s no doubt it’s effective, but there is a question of ethics. We decided meat was our goal and decided to go for it. On the count of three, we jumped up, fired a shot, and tried to hit a few more flying away. It worked and worked well. We rounded up all the downed geese and were nearly at our limit. I swapped shotguns to the 10 gauge, but sadly, nothing more came. We decided to shut it down for the day and head to Brad’s to clean the geese.
Benelli in the Blind
Tyler and Brad Watching Geese
The Aftermath
Our Haul
That day of hunting was so fun we decided we best go again the following Saturday, just for good measure. So, just like we planned, I came back out the following Friday, this time with another case of beer AND a bottle of wine for Brad’s wife… since it was so kind of her to put up with me invading two weekends in a row. This time I was smart and went to bed at midnight instead of 1 AM, by 5 AM wakeup I was fresh and well rested. Comparatively. This time, Dylon couldn’t make it.. having a job is really cutting into his hunting, poor guy. His spot in the blind was filled by Tyler’s girlfriend Kendra. We loaded into the truck and hit a different field this week. This time we set up near a patch of bush that sat like an oasis in an overturned field.
We assembled the decoys and set them out in the split pattern that was so successful the previous week. Then we sat and waited for daylight, and all made fun of Tyler a bit. It was mostly Kendra, but we all pitched in. The sun arrived and the geese came with it, and much like the sun, they stayed high in the sky. It would seem they were afraid of the trees we had set up beside. Lesson learned, keep away from the bush, it makes sense, that’s where predators hide, also hunters, I guess. We sat and called and eventually got a small group or two to come in, this netted us a goose or two. The geese, for the most part, were landing on the other side of the field, I hatched a plant to try and sneak up and scare them, maybe they would circle and land by our decoys, or maybe I could snap a few out of the sky when I spooked them. I was wrong, I got to within 200 yards, maybe, and they all flew away, and were just gone. I wandered back to the blind and we continued calling. Then, we saw a group of ducks coming in nice and low toward us, Kendra and I took aim and fired. A single duck fell out of the sky and landed just a few meters from the blind in the trees behind us. Tyler was kind enough to go grab it. Kendra informed me that it was, in fact, my duck that fell. I think it may have been hers, but since I had never shot a duck before, I claimed it. We called some more and had one more string of geese come in, we fired, I have no doubt one of those geese was mine. After that, it was late in the morning and there didn’t seem to be any geese in the distance. We packed up and headed back to Brad’s to clean up our bounty. While we were cleaning, Kendra went into the house and helped Brad’s wife, Alyssa, make an amazing breakfast. Eggs Benedict is now my new favourite way to end an already successful hunt.
My first Mallard
The end goal
It took two days, but I got to try both my shotguns, and it answered none of my questions. I still don’t know which gun I like more, but for the price of ammo, I’ll likely stick to the 12 gauge. Guess I’ll have to save that old 10 for if I ever get a chance to go turkey hunting. Now that’s what I call a plan.
P.S. I had my camera with me on the first day and got some footage. I did my best to edit it together for my Youtube channel, see it here. I hope you enjoy it, I am trying to expand my youtube channel a bit.
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Late Season Grouse Hunt
I’ll never be sure, but I think grouse hunting is my favourite hunting. I like it because there really are no bad days. You take your gun, which absolutely does not have to be a fancy one, or your bow, and go for a walk. You tend to walk through some of the most beautiful country and often in great weather. It tends to fill me with great optimism because, in my mind, even if I come home empty handed I still got to see this landscape. It’s low speed, short range, and no stress hunting. I have never heard of anyone being sad because they missed a Boone and Crockett grouse. Also, grouse tend to rely heavily on their camouflage so if you miss a shot at them, they tend to stay very still in hopes that you do not see them, so its pretty forgiving. This confidence in their invisibility often means that you can make all the noise you want when you are hunting since they don’t vacate the area when they hear you coming.
This last fall season for me was a busy one, and not in the field. I found I was working and going to school at the same time so I got some weekends that I decided to dedicate to deer hunting more than grouse, I also tried goose hunting one day. Goose hunting seems like it would be fun, if you could find them. At any rate, once deer season ended, Christmas arrived along with its insanity. After Christmas I ended up with nearly a week of time between new years and going back to school. I decided to go to my moms for a few days and try my hand at hunting grouse, something I had previously only done in September and October. I was told this time of year they tend to spend more time in the trees as snow slows their movement too much on the ground, however the unseasonable warmth of this winter has keep the snow to only a few inches deep.
I decided to take with me my old savage 29B, one of the first guns to come into my possession. In this case it came in pieces and needed a touch of restoration. Its an old pump action .22 that shoots quite well but I find its prone to jamming if you don’t rack the action hard or as I say “with authority” I also found after a few years of casual testing, subsonic ammunition works best, I guess sometimes slower is better. With regular ammunition I can hold about 14 rounds in the tubular magazine that runs under the barrel. If I use shorts, I can fit about 20 and the gun becomes a novelty circus act, at 75 yards with shorts I have time to lower the rifle from my shoulder before hearing the impact on the gong, personally I find it comical.
My Savage 29B
The best place, in my mind, to go grouse hunting, is by an old trappers cabin on a quarter section of land my step-dad’s brother leases, just west of my parent’s farm. Not sure why, but this area has always been my favourite area for hunting, I think I just like the trees and rolling hills, its used for pasturing cattle so there hasn’t been much for land clearing, and it seems like there is always a new little creek, clearing, or game trail to discover.
I parked my little car at the entrance gate, loaded my rifle and set out walking. I walked the familiar trail to the old trappers cabin, passing areas where I had often seen grouse before. I also stumbled into an abundance of deer and coyote tracks. From the, now dilapidated, cabin I walked north along a trail that looped east and led to a small south flowing creek in a big valley, I walked along the creek and was spat back out right near the cabin where I had started. Along this trail I found only a single grouse, but it was far too deep in the bush for me to ever get a bullet to it, also the thought of retrieving it from the dense brushes pulled me off that idea. From the cabin I did another loop along another trail, this time along a trail east of the cabin in a counter clockwise direction. The trail took me up a steep hill to a narrow spruce-lined trail. I had walked there many times before, to me it looks like a perfect place for a bear to be lumbering around, though I had never seen one in there. On this trip though, I did see a grouse, up in a tree. I pulled up my old gun and trained my sights on it, I pressed off the safety and squeezed the trigger. The little subsonic bullet let out a gentle “Psht” noise like an air compressor hose disconnecting. The grouse fell out of the tree and out of sight. I walked quickly toward it and found it and another grouse on the ground. I took a follow up shot at its head, in hopes of not damaging the meat, I missed… then missed again. At this time the second grouse flew into a nearby tree. I settled for a body shot on the first grouse and it fell down. I then took aim at the second grouse and again tried twice for a head shot, on the third I decided I best just take a body shot. The grouse fell and flailed as it hit the ground. I shot it a second time in an attempt to alleviate any possible suffering. I then gave each grouse an additional shot in the head as an additional insurance against suffering. At the end of a rather exciting minute, I did the math and realized it took me ten shots to down two grouse. In the back of my mind I could hear my dad laughing at me, him being a rather accomplished “1 shot one grouse” hunter. No doubt I need more practice with my old rifle, especially in field conditions. Maybe I should just do more grouse hunting.
Hard Days Work
The Grouse and The Gun
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2017 Fall Hunting Report
Nothing quite hurts your pride like running a hunting blog and not filling your tags, but that is exactly what happened to me this year. I still had a fantastic season despite the fact that I had already written it off as a “maybe Ill go hunting this year” kind of a season. That was the result of me going back to school this fall, meaning that my free time would be weekends only and it would be a delicate balance of employment, homework, and hunting. As it turns out, luck was on my side and I was able to go out hunting every weekend this season. I put on a lot of mileage this season, averaging about 15,000 steps, or about 12km a day. My typical hunting day was get up at 615, walk out to my spot and wait for a deer to come on out, once I got tired of sitting I would walk around my parents farm and slowly make my way back to the house for breakfast, then in the evening I would go to “The Lease Land” and hike in to an old trappers cabin, long since collapsed in, and wait until dark there. This season I didn’t see much for whitetail deer, which is all I had a tag for. But, as you could imagine, with that much time and mileage outside I managed to see some pretty neat things. So maybe let me run down a little list here:
A rabbit – You just dont see lots of those in that area
A few grouse – not rare but they still manage to get your heart rate up when they seem to thunder out from under your boots
an impression in the snow from where a bird of pray picked up a small rodent
4 Coyotes – the first was in an open field in a snow storm about 60 yards from me I stood up and moved to try and get a better look at it, it had no idea I was there despite all my noise making. Another was the biggest coyote I had ever seen, it was easily the size of a golden retriever. Someone said it may have been a wolf but it looked too thin featured for that to be correct. I also saw what I thought to be a cougar but turned out to be a coyote. I was just coming through a fence and in the distance I saw something tan coloured that ducked down and slinked away in a very fluid cat-like fashion. I also could have sworn I saw a long thin tail waiving behind it. I walked up to where I had seen it and found only coyote tracks… maybe theres something to those old native stories of coyotes being tricksters and shapeshifters after-all.
a herd of 17 mule deer- I was walking across the eastern portion of my parents farm and spotted a small group of mule deer so I had a seat in the snow and pulled out my binoculars to watch, they were about 500 yards away. At first it was a large buck with seven does. As I was watching, a coyote snuck out of the bushes near the group and was immediately run off by three of the does. I continued to watch the group and slowly more and more mule deer started to show up. At first it was a much smaller buck and a single doe. This was all mind blowing to me, then even more showed up. By the end there were at least 3 very large bucks and two or three spikers and forkers. All mingling together, I would have though with mating season so close they would have all been fighting each other but no, they just moseyed and ate. I would have never believe that mule deer would herd up in that large of a group.
3 white tailed deer- I saw all three on the last two days of hunting. The first was in the morning when Erin and I were sitting watching a spot that had a lot of tracks and rubs, way off to my right was a rather portly whitetail doe. I wasnt in a position to take that shot and I wouldn’t have wanted to anyway, for a few reasons; first it was on a ridge meaning a miss would send that errant bullet miles away, the second was she was standing in brush which can deflect or slow a bullet causing a wound instead of a kill, lastly she was quartering away meaning a proper placed shot at her would almost certainly result in the loss of one of her shoulders minimum. The next day after my morning sit I went for a walk and stumbled into a buck and doe pair again shrouded by bushes, in hind sight I may have had enough fire power to cut through the branches and hit that buck, but he wasn’t very big and my freezer isn’t very empty so there was no real purpose in risking it beyond giving me something to write about, but if the day comes where I fall into the hole of taking an unethical shot just to give me content for my blog I think it will be time I shut this website down.
I dont know if I would call this season successful or not. I learned a lot, saw some amazing things, and spent a great deal of time outside. Its hard for me to call that a failure but at the same time I’ve still got my tags tucked into my binocular case… there is always next year I guess.
Some bird got lucky hunting which also means some mouse had a bad day. That dark dot is blood.
Erin snapped this when she headed back to the house and I took the long way back and ran into all those mule deer. Notice my left hand, I never go too far without a snack handy.
I was using a cell phone and binoculars at 700 yards and you can still see a bit of the antlers on the one in the middle, he was quite large.
Mule deer buck (far right) and does. These were 500 yards away on a hill we routinely shoot at from 1km away (long range shooting is not used for hunting purposes)
Me glassing the tree line, it was on the ridge in the background that I spotted that first doe. I spend more than a few hours at this spot leaned on this tree this season, I would be lying if I said I felt that time was wasted.
I hope your season was as fun as mine and maybe even a little more fruitful and if not, just remember, next year will come and there will be deer then too…. and they will be bigger. We’ve just gotta find them.
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So Long Old Friend
It was recently announced that Wholesale Sports will be shutting its doors. I feel it is important that I pay my respects.
When I was a kid, it was always exciting to come to the city because it meant we might go to wholesale sports. I can still remember the layout of that old store and how I would drool over the airguns. When the new location opened, I couldn’t believe how spacious it was. When I finally moved to the city for university I, of course, applied. I told the manager I was willing and able to work in any department. I was hired on in the camping section with the understanding that I would train and fill in for other departments when they needed it.
It was at that camping kiosk that I read my first Capstick book. That turned into a lifelong addiction to books on African hunting and exploration. It was from that old used rack that I bought my first deer rifle. I paid $450 for a used Ruger M77 in .243, I’ve still got the sale papers for it buried away in my safe. It was also that job that financed by trip to New Zealand and Fiji. When I got back from Fiji I had $0 in my account but I walked into the store and was given a job, at the gun counter this time. It was all those conversations with hunters over the years that made me decide to take up bear hunting. It was those Capstick books that convinced me to write about it, and it was a coworker who told me to send my story into Alberta Outdoorsmen. It ended up being my first published story. When I finished university I moved on to a job on an oil rig. It paid well but was short lived, I was laid off and Wholesale saved me again, this time with a job in their warehouse. That job helped keep Erin and me afloat until our wedding and trip to South America.
My first deer rifle
I don’t know what their reason for the shutdown was but I would speculate they placed the blame on outside competitors and overall market down turn in the face of Canada’s current recession. I also have some strong held beliefs that some things could have been done much better, but that is simply a byproduct of working on the ground floor of a company for nearly a decade… You get to see behind the curtain from time to time.
Wholesale has announced that their last day of business will be December 28, 2017 until then there will be a continuous clearance sale. So when we go to cash in on the sales and pick the flesh from the bones of the dead.. lets try to remember that this old relic of the past was once a hub of education for young hunters. It also helped more than one person become who they are today… for better or for worse.
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Doe Hunting and Illegal Outdoorsmen
I was sitting in a ground blind placed along a row of bales. I was on the hunt for a doe that I had missed a 40 yard shot it with my bow a few weeks earlier. I was still working on my archery skills, I am good out to 60 or so yards on a target but I found when a deer comes into range I tended to get a bit of “buck fever” which is strange because I have shot some nice bucks in the past without so much as a tremor. For some reason, when a doe wanders with 50 yards I get my heart thumping so bad I don’t bother risking taking the shot sometimes, tracking an arrow wounded deer is a terrifying prospect that would cause me loss of sleep. This particular day I was trying two new ideas. First I was using a ground blind instead of just sitting motionless against the bales. I had found that deer would come to within about 20 yards of me but would naturally spook and flee as I tried to draw my bow to make a shot, a blind seemed a simple solution. The second tactic was that I had a decoy doe out in front of my blind. I did some quick research the night before and found that putting out a doe decoy early in the season will bring more does in and that is what I was after. The plan seemed rather fool proof since every time I sat in that area before I had a few deer within range but just nothing that would stay close enough and still enough while I drew my bow. Many hunters pride themselves on certain strengths; some are amazing shots, some have a never quit attitude, some can stalk silently, others can think like a deer. I think mine, were I to toot my own horn for a moment, would be my ability to learn. Cold hard research works for me, reading about tracking deer got me my largest deer to date and I am always on the prowl for more information. This set up I had concocted with the use of various internet resources was sure to be a hit, the decoy would lure them in and the blind would conceal my movement as I drew the bow. It was nothing revolutionary but it was two tactics I had never needed to use for rifle hunting.
As I sat waiting for the deer to start wandering out, I heard a truck come down the dead-end road that led to the corner of the field. The truck came to a stop and in the silence of the October afternoon I could vaguely hear their conversation. “Oh look! a big whitetail buck!” I immediately started looking out the windows of my blind, all I saw was my big doe decoy. Is it possible there is a big buck behind me? There was some more chatting and some shuffling in the truck before it occurred to me that they might be lining up a shot on my decoy! I was watching the truck through my binoculars but the cab itself was obstructed by some trees so I couldn’t quite see if they were leaning a rifle out the window. Suddenly I heard “wait wait, there is a ground blind by those bales!”. The truck immediately made a U-turn and vacated the premise, almost as though they were doing something they shouldn’t, somewhere they shouldn’t be. A few minutes later I heard the report of a rifle from the direction they had gone. It upset me that I wasn’t able to get a license plate number off of the truck. It got me thinking, doing things the right way is not that hard. In fact, to me it almost seems easier. All I have to do is sit in my field and wait. If they are doing what it looks like they are doing they have to drive around looking for deer, shoot one that is likely running away from the noise of their truck, then retrieve it and leave the area before the fish and game department come running to the sound of a rifle shot out of season. Then they still have to make it home without getting stopped. All at the risk of their hunting rights and ANYTHING deemed an accessory to their poaching, including the automobile in use.
Hundreds of years ago, when all big game animals were considered the property of royalty and the common men and women of the land were left to starve, poaching might have been considered noble. The story of Robin Hood has him as a poacher, technically. They had to outwit animals, and the royal guards, all at the risk of their own lives, the pay off being food for their families. In modern-day North America poachers are usually people trying to do things the easy way, and its shameful. Poaching gives us all a bad name, and believe me public opinion of hunters is not high right now, we do not need anyone making it worse. In my grumblings of people breaking the rules, I was reminded of a time when a close friend wanted me to break a law they didn’t see a use for. A friend of a friend had said she would pay $700 for a bear’s gallbladder because her grandmother wanted it for “medicine”. As coincidence would have it, I was bear hunting that spring. In Alberta, as well as in most places, it is illegal to sell any part of a hunted animal. At the time I flatly refused simply because I didn’t want to break the law, despite $700 being a considerable sum of money in my fast nearing empty bank account. My friend tried to talk me into it with the reasonable arguments of “you aren’t going to use it anyway, better to sell it instead of throw it out” I was tempted, lordy I was tempted, but I stood strong. The subject was dropped and never really came up again because I failed to fill my bear tag that year. I realize now that I made the right decision for more reasons than the law. Upon further review I think encouraging ancient traditional medicines that use parts of animals is a terrible thing for a hunter to do. Sure it was just a black bears gallbladder, but its the same ideology that is leading to poaching and extinction of rhinos. I am glad I chose not to be a part of that. Poachers, and those that encourage or enable poaching destroy what hunters try so hard to create, they also often get lumped into the same categories as hunters by people who don’t care to do any research on the subject. As hunters we need to do our best to separate ourselves from poachers, even if its something small like selling a gallbladder or shooting a deer a week before or after the rifle season, all of these little things add up and contribute to big things, big things we don’t want to be a part of.
I sat in my blind going over how I hoped those guys were just scouting and that rifle shot was someone else getting sighted in for the upcoming rifle season. Suddenly two does wandered into the edge of the field about 90 yards out, one was noticeably larger than the other. They slowly made their way toward my decoy, I was relieved to see that my plan was working, maybe… at the very least it wasn’t scaring the deer away, so I am counting it as a success. In my mind this was the doe I had missed a 40 yard shot on weeks before, lucky it was a clean miss and not a wounding shot. I was trying to range her as she approached my decoy, knew she was somewhere around 30 yards but my range finder was having trouble reading through the mesh windows on the blind. Finally it spat out a number, 25 yards. I decided my best bet was to put my 20 yard pin just high of center on the kill zone and any drop would still be where I want it to be. I slid forward onto the edge of me seat and came to a full draw, I checked the level on my sight, I was dead on and my heart was pounding. I took aim and released, the deer reacted to the sound of the bow and crouched down a few inches, the arrow flew clear over her shoulder. I had missed again, and to add insult to my injured pride, I had lost the arrow into the tangle mess of the fields stubble. The deer looked around, unsure of what happened and trotted to the edge of the field, I looked at her closely with my binoculars. Not a mark on her luckily, a clean miss is by far better than a bad hit. I think my problem is I need more practice shooting from a sitting position and I definitely get too excited when an animal walks into range. It’s nice to know the excitement of hunting hasn’t worn off on me, but it also gets a little infuriating, especially since I am actually a really good archer… when there aren’t deer around.
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Button Buck
I was sitting in my blind… The same blind I had been sitting in day after day for the past few months. It sat on the edge of a pile of bails in the corner of the field. I had started there sitting on pail with my bow across my lap, by now bow season had come and gone and I had along the way upgraded to a ground blind and a folding chair. I had also upgraded to an old Steyr-Mannlicher rifle chambered in .270 win that my aunt and uncle had given me. They had decided that they didn’t want their guns anymore and gave them all away. I was more than happy to accept it. When I first got it, it had a scope but I found it didn’t shoulder very well with it on because the scope sat too high. So I took it off and sighted it in at 100 yards with the iron sights, just as the factory intended. That old gun with those iron sights made me a little nostalgic for something I never had… I love to read, especially books about the old adventure hunters in the early and mid 20th century like Capstick, Corbett, Bell, and Selous. They all used open sights, mostly because optics technology was in its infancy, and partly because the reliability of sights. They were all also prone to fancy European rifles. Holding and shouldering this rifle, every time I blinked I could imagine standing in a humid jungle waiting for the Man-Eater of Kumoan to walk around a rock. Needless to say, I am fond of this rifle and am prone to waxing poetic about nearly any rifle. So lets move the story along.
New Rifle
A close up of the action
There I was, sitting tired in my blind. I had faced crushing embarrassment and disappointment during bow season. I had missed four, yes 4 shots, at does with my bow up to that point. They were all clean misses and they were all my fault, for four different reasons. The first was a forty yard shot, that is a distance I can easily shoot in practice with field points, but I didn’t realize that broadheads fly drastically different at that range. I grouped my hunting arrows and found that beyond 30 yards the group just opened up too much to be reasonable. The second miss I was too excited and rushed, it was buck fever, plain and simple, well except for the fact it was a doe. This was really starting to drain on my confidence since I am usually a very talented marksman. The third and fourth happened back to back on the same deer. First I misjudged my distance and shot clear over her back. She snorted and circled around and stopped 20 yards from the blind, a perfect broadside shot was looking at me.. I drew my bow, took a deep breath, and steadied the top pin right perfect behind the shoulder. My release was perfect, there was a strange flump sound and the fletching grazed the bottom of her ribs. She looked at me funny, and trotted off unscathed. I sat flabbergasted staring at the hole in the side of my blind. I had been holding my bow too low causing me to shoot through the side of the blind, thus slowing my arrow and ruining its trajectory…
After these misses I started to think I should sell my gear and take up golf. I remember what an old co-worker of mine once told me. He was an older fellow and had certainly been around the block a time or two and was undoubtedly the best salesman I ever knew. He once told me, all he ever wanted to do was be a farmer he said “I tried and tried for years to be a farmer, my wife and I bought a place and we worked it right down to our last dime. We had rainy springs, drought in the summer, and falling grain prices. I tried and tried, and God simply wouldn’t let it happen.”. Now I am not a particularly religious man, but you’ve almost gotta believe in divine intervention to miss those kinds of shots. Maybe I just want meant to be a hunter.
My wife, of course, figured I was just being silly and gave me a pep talk.. Or maybe she saw how much a set of golf clubs is worth? Either way, she reminded me that that is the nature of hunting and if it were easy I probably would have a different hobby. I had the whole month of November off and she had no intention of letting me and my wounded pride sit on the couch. So I packed up and headed to my mom and step-dads farm, I had historically had good luck there and this year I was awarded a tag for a mule deer doe. I spend just over a week sitting in my moms house hoping the weather would drop. It was simply too hot to go hunting, anything I shot would spoil before we could butcher it and get it in the freezer… My options were to go north to my dads where it was colder, or go look at golf clubs, at least then I could enjoy the heat. I opted to go home for a day and then head north to my dads.
I packed my new to me .270 and headed north. I immediately changed into my hunting gear when I arrived and went to my same old blind that had caused me so much doe frustration during the bow season. I sat for a few hours with my rifle across my lap hoping something would walk by. Finally, just after sunset before last legal light, a doe wandered out to the edge of the field, about 100 yards out. I watched her with my binoculars, she wasn’t small, but she certainly wasn’t big. There were also two more deer behind her, I could barely see them in the trees. I was losing light fast and had to make a decision, I flipped the safety off on the gun, then she turned. I flipped the safety back on and waited.. This happened a few more times. Finally I decided that’s it, now or never. I flipped the safety off shouldered and aimed. I could barely make out the black steel bead on my rifle against her sides in the darkness. Finally she turned broadside and I squeezed off a round. It sounded like the blind was going to launch into orbit, my ears were ringing, the shoot-through-mesh in front of me shredded and the blind filled with smoke. I chambered another round and looked at my doe on the ground. She was thrashing a bit, as they sometimes do.. it hurts to see and I considered shooting again but it would be at the cost of meat which was my purpose for shooting her.. Then she stood up again, and I realized I hadn’t made a very good shot. I quickly shouldered and shot, she went down this time without a twitch. I set the timer on my watch. I like to give deer at least five minutes of peace and quiet after I shoot. I need that time to organize my thoughts, let what happened sink in, calm down, and make a plan. I also like to give that animal a few minutes of peace in their final moments. If they are still alive, I dont want to scare them or have them jump up and run. I never take my eyes of the deer during this time. I had a friend who told me he once shot a beautiful white tail buck, it dropped like a bag of hammers. So he got up and did a victory dance, complete with a spin or two and when he turned around, his deer was gone, never to be seen again, no blood trail, nothing. Don’t get cocky, and do not take your eyes off the prize.
The shredded mesh in the blind.
I dug out my tag, texted my dad to come get me with the truck and then headed over to the doe. I walked up from behind and touched her eye with my barrel to ensure she was dead. This, I am told, is the best way. If the animal is at all conscious it will blink, so its an easy and clear test, approaching from their back also ensure that if they are alive and they get up and run, they wont do it over you or give you a quick kick. I looked at my shooting, The first shot was high and far back and the second shot was a little higher than I wanted. It had hit both lungs and the spine. It was the absolute highest I could have hit and still be considered “kill zone”. I also noticed that it wasn’t a she, it was a he. It turned out to be a very small buck, his antlers were only little buttons hidden under his fur, hence being called a button buck, so it still counted as an “antlerless” which is convenient for me.
The safest approach is from “above” always assume its still alive
I was relieved to have some meat for the freezer. I was also reminded persistence pays off and that shooting iron sights is not as easy as it seems. Like many things, it is slowly becoming a lost art. I found that with that course sight the entire kill zone disappeared behind it, yet I have seen people shoot amazing groupings at much farther distances with similar sights. I guess more practice is warranted. I also decided to try butchering this deer myself, it went well, but it was obvious I need much more practice at it.
Completely deboned and butchered
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Hunting Photos
Hunting photos, trophy pictures, grip-n-grins, field photos… its all the same thing. If you have been on the internet there is a chance you have seen a hunting photo or two. Usually with a caption about the people in it being monsters or murderers. If you’ve posted a hunting picture on the internet, you’ve probably been called a murderer or a monster. It would appear that is the price a modern sportsman pays… one of many payments it would seem.
Just Another Day On The Internet
The question comes up again and again by the masses of the internet: “why would you take a picture of yourself with a dead animal?”. For this question, there are many answers, and from many different people. One common reason, is that its a way to remember the event and the accomplishment. People want photos of themselves at the tops of mountains, the ends of races, and holding trophies after the big game. Hunting is no different, you just spent hours, days, weeks wandering through the woods or mountains trying to find an elusive wild animal. All of that was after months of preparation, planning, and hopefully, practice at the gun or archery range. After putting all this time, effort, and money in, people want a photo to remember that moment of success.
Not Everyone Cares For Hunting Photos
Another reason is so that the photos can be shared with friends, family, and other hunting enthusiasts. This is where the problems start, many people, myself included, love to share hunting photos on the internet. Sharing online is a great way to make digital friends who live a similar analog life. The problem is that those photos inevitably end up in front of someone who doesn’t understand why it exists, and often feels the need to say something about it. If you post hunting photos online, you are going to get hatemail, at this point its just a fact of life. I learned this quickly via twitter and instagram. That said, some photos attract more vitriol than others. The photos that create the most hate all seem to have something in common, poor choices in photographic technique.
Ever notice that photo of a girl with her boot on a dead lion and a great big grin makes people angrier than a picture of a professional hunter, with an expression of content, crouched beside an equally dead lion? Its deceptively simple, respect for the animal goes a long way. Even amongst hunters, this comes up and gets debated, but the majority of sportsmen appear to agree. When taking a hunting photo, respect for the animal should be top concern. This animal just died to feed you and your family, it deserves your respect. Keeping this in mind while taking photos can go a long way in improving your final product. Do little things to make the animal look dignified, try to clean blood off of the animals nose and face and tuck its tongue back in. Make sure you don’t stand or sit on the animal. Many people don’t even feel comfortable stepping over the animal.
I have also seen people try to use items for scale, this can be tricky because you do want to show how big your animal is but putting a beer can in a dead lions mouth to show its teeth (yes, I’ve seen this done) might send the wrong message on the respect front. Use yourself for scale, people know how big the average person is and can make sense of it from there. This brings me to my next point, forced perspective. I’ve seen many photos, often of elk hunters it seems, sitting a couple yards behind the animal in hopes of making the antlers look bigger by comparison, its obvious and a little cheesy. If you feel you need to misrepresent the size of the animal, you might be hunting for the wrong reasons.
I should Have Moved The Deer Away From The Pool Of Blood For The Photo and Smiled A Little Less
The most commonly debated part about hunting photos is the smile. How much smile is too much? For this there is no real right answer. You just accomplished an amazing thing that you worked hard for, of course you are going to want to smile. But if the smile gets too big it can look a little crazy and send the wrong message. It effectively turns into a tight rope walk. My thoughts are: don’t force a smile. You’re likely in a pretty good mood when you’re taking a hunting photo so just relax and let your natural facial expression be what shines through. If you happen to be a big smile type, try taking a photo of you stifling it and see, it might look a little better. The key to the smile, much like all of life, is to just be yourself.
The quality of the photo is another thing that is important to remember. You put a lot of effort into getting here so you might as well get a good photo. Some simple things can be done to make the picture better: clear the foreground of twigs, branches and tall grass, and try to get a clear or solid background so the antlers don’t fade into brush or trees behind you. Low angles are also your friend, get the photographer to crouch to be at the same level as you and the animal, this will make the animal the focal point of the photo. It will also help you get the sky as the background which will again draw focus to you and the animal. Keep in mind that this is a photo you will likely be showing a lot of people, so you might want to make sure you take a moment and clean yourself up a little. You’re not modelling so don’t get too worried but make sure your hair isn’t a mess from wearing a hat and your hands aren’t covered in blood from field dressing. Having your firearm or bow in the photo is a great idea, just make sure it is pointed in a safe direction. No matter the situation, keep firearm safety in mind. Maybe out of respect, try not to rest the butt of the rifle on the animal.
Example Of A Bad High Angle Shot
I don’t know that I have ever taken a “perfect” hunting photo, nor do I think anyone has. The best we as hunters can do is try, just remember to respect the animal and try to make it a quality photo. As long as we are trying, I think the effort and intention will shine through to people we show them to. Lastly, make sure you take a lot of pictures. With digital cameras you can take multiple pictures from slightly different angles and see which looks better once you see it full sized. Some of my most memorable hunts I have made the mistake of taking only a single blurred cell phone picture simply because I was excited and didn’t think to take more than one snapshot. Which reminds me, don’t forget to bring your camera.
I Forgot My Camera, A Friends Quick Cell Phone Picture Is All I Have
The Best Hunting Photo I Have Taken Yet, and I Still See Things I Should Do Better Next Time
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Gun Buying Tips
In my university days I spent the majority of my free time working the gun counter at a hunting store, this was primarily to have extra money to spend on frivolous things like food and rent. It was a good job, and much like hunting, I began to spot patterns. In this case it was in customers and their approach to purchasing. A common question from customers was “What do you have in a 308?” my response, depending on the customer and how much I had been able to sleep the night before, was often either to simply turn around and face the large wall covered with rifles and sarcastically say “these”. Usually, I would explain that we carry a wide variety of rifles in a variety of calibers and then proceed to ask about other sought after features to narrow the search field. The problem is simple, most people know, more or less, what they are after it just doesn’t seem that way because they go about it almost backwards. Its an easy mistake to make but one that low paid employees working early weekend mornings during the busy season lose patience for. Gun shops typically sort their inventory by type of firearm, then brand, then model, then calibre. So I have decided to try and lend a hand to help everyone get what they want faster.
It is important to first know what you want the gun to be used for: is it for hunting, defense, target practice, long range shooting? From there break it down farther: what kind of hunting? What distances? From there it’s a good idea to have features in mind such as wood or synthetic stock? Blued or stainless barrel? Next suggest brands that you like or would like to avoid. Within this previous criteria be clear on which features you are or are not flexible on, there might be the exact gun you want except it will be blued and not stainless would that be ok? From there if you have a price or price range in mind say so. Many retail stores have a strict policy where employees are not allowed to ask this because it’s a bit too personal of a question. But knowing this can really help the salesman get you something reasonable and spare you the awkwardness of them digging out a top of the line HS Precision, when you are more in the market for a Mossberg (Both fine rifles in their own way). After all that, suggest a few calibers that you would be interested in, keep in mind with a hunting rifle most calibers are pretty similar performance-wise within 300 yards which is a pretty far shot for most hunting situations. If you do have a specific calibre in mind, that’s not a bad thing, but it will be helpful to explain why, otherwise the salesman might suggest other calibres that are equally suitable but more available at that time ex: “I’ve had a lot of luck with it”, “I already have most of the reloading equipment for that calibre”, “me and my hunting friends decided to all get the same calibre so we can share ammo in a pinch”, “Me, my son, wife, or daughter have shot this calibre before and found the recoil to be manageable.” These are all reasons I have heard and respected.
From there it’s just a matter keeping a few small tips in mind. First always try to be polite, the quality of service you receive in ANY business is really proportional to how nice or rude you are to the staff. Its also not uncommon for salesmen to give slight discounts to polite customers, I know I’ve done this more than once. Also keep in mind that not every gun in every calibre will be available especially in smaller shops. If there’s something specific you want you may have to order it, even if it’s common (common usually means a lot of people are buying them).
Don’t be afraid to ask other customers their opinions of guns and calibres, they are there because they are into guns. Make sure to ask the employees their opinions of guns and calibres because these are the people that hear about the success and failures of equipment from customers coming back, they also process any warranty issues and can tell you which companies are having a bad run of guns. Keep in mind, from both customers and employees, you often hear opinions which are easily, and often, bias. I once worked with a man who felt Weatherby brand rifles were the only ones worth owning.
Lastly make sure you hold every gun you are considering buying to make sure that the fit, finish, and feel is there. Every gun feels a bit different to every person and you want to be sure before you buy because most shops won’t take a gun back based on not liking the look or the feel, especially if it has been fired.
Below is a checklist I have made that might be helpful. Also, here is a downloadable version (gun buying checklist), you can print it, fill it out, and take it in with you next time. Hopefully its helpful. Make sure to comment below and let me know what you think, what I should add, and what I should change?
Posted in How-To, Hunting, Marksmanshipwith no comments yet.