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The Weather forecast called for clearing skies, and the temperature was supposed to get above freezing for the first time in a week. That meant it was going to snow.
I had not hunted rabbits in the snow in awhile; yep it’ll snow, so I prepared my stuff.
Now there are some truisms that happen in hunting anything- they may not be etched in granite, may not have been published, heck may not have even hit the Internet, they just seem to happen often.
NO matter how tall a boot one wears in the snow – the snow will be at least one inch deeper.
Oh I planned on wearing the Danner’s I bought some 20 + years ago, I was going to hunt in my hip boots.
You see another truism is water is always deeper than it appears, and water has a tendency to hide under, brush, growth and snow.
So the silk underwear, silk socks to under the wool socks, blue jeans, Pendleton wool shirt, and waxed Canvas Barbour Coat were laid out. Now where did I put the $5 wool third world military pants with suspenders bought at the Army Surplus? Oh there they are, hanging up next to the chest waders. I wear these wool pants over pants for warmth; wool keeps one warm even if wet. I keep these hung up next to the waders – I snagged the hip boots.
I guess I need a gun- huh? Humm, what to take for wabbits? Now do I want to actually hunt the rascals, or do I want to just play in the snow using “hunting†as an excuse?
I do have those shells I reloaded like skeet loads with #5 hard shot in 12 and 20 gauges. Then again there is something about .22 rifle- but you know the .410 single shot is too much fun for something like this…I have to think about this.
“The 1911 style is such an antiquated design…†kept reverberating in my head. I really don’t know what to think about folks that say stuff like that. So I took my Combat Commander,The one I carried - always- and loaded it up with 200 grain of the HG #68 variety, Cocked and Locked I put it in a plastic dishpan and set it outside in a safe place. The idea was to let it snow on the gun and – once again prove to myself what others have known for years. I’d take along a 3" RB HB Model 64 for grins and Carry – I always carry when I hunt – even with a long gun.
I awake to twenty something degrees and six inches of snow – I knew it would.
So dressed and the gear ready to go I head out to my car to clear the snow, a dry powder for a change, not the wet stuff we normally get around here. The trunk leaked and didn’t even bother trying to open, years later I would buy a truck, granted the bed gets wet, but it at least dries out and does not freeze “shutâ€. Another note to self – don’t buy another white vehicle- has to be the dumbest thing to drive in the snow…
“Hey Sugar, whatcha have?†Damn does Mabel “ever†go home from the Toddle House? I replied “the usualâ€. “ So where are you off to – I remember a time when you stayed out late and came to eat with me after you had been out and before going home? Let me guess, with a Ruark breakfast you must be going hunting.†Mabel was good, perceptive good. I mean any waitress that has read Ruark – has to be pretty sharp in my book.
The drive on the highway was fine; these country roads might get tricky – even for a 4600 pound land yacht. I pulled into the gas station, popped the wheel covers and put on the emergency chains I had tossed onto the back floorboard. The snow was melting off the 1911, grinning, because I wasn’t worried. Topped of the 27 gallon tank and continued on.
I bumped the gate a few times with the front bumper to shake off the snow; I could see the chain and Yale Lock. I didn’t have a key; in fact nobody had a key. This was my idea, see folks see a chain and lock and turn around. Heck some folks not used to the country will rattle and pull the chain to see if the lock is undone, when it won’t they leave. We just needed something to dissuade folks from trespassing- they don’t read the signs, they read locks. So I took a piece of heavy chain, with a Yale Lock locked it up and just placed it “over†the gate posts. All I had to do – anyone had to do was “lift “it off. Simple sure does beat complicated at times. *grin*
Oh Goody – my headlights are scattering wabbits into the hedgerow, brush and ditches- this is going to be fun.
My excuse for doing “donuts†in the snow was to clear the snow so my car would not get stuck. I parked, donned my ugly wool cowboy hat, tossed the extra floor mat onto the ground and proceeded to don my hip boots.
I looked at the Ithaca 37 in 12 gauge and decided I would wait. I grabbed the 1911 and walked down the dirt road a bit. The wabbit just froze at the sound of my whistle, the 1911 barked and not 15 steps away I had my first rabbit, shot with an “antiquated designâ€. * smirk*
I use two quarters rubbing together to attract squirrels, the whistle to stop rabbits. Okay I carry a Coaches whistle afield, sound carries further than me yelling for help and I guess they don’t teach folks about 3 gun shots anymore. Then again with the new “wondernines†how would one know if you were in trouble or just “spraying and praying� We didn’t – I wasn’t taught to shoot that way, even with a BHP…
So I walk the hedgerow, munching on Jerky and whistling when need to shoot a rabbit. My backpack was a bit heavy, the weight is supported by the shoulders, beats the heck out of those game belts that pulls your britches down. Now if the durn rabbits wouldn’t take a last hop or flop into the water in the ditch…I knew hip boots was a good idea.
I went back to the car and dumped the game onto the top of my car. I fired off the other 3 mags that I had allowed to get snowed on, and shot them as fast as could, nary a hitch. Inserted a fresh mag, and decided to see what a Model 64 could do. Okay - I knew what it would do , I just wanted to shoot the durn thing. *grin*
I took two with the Model 64 and decided the Ithaca was feeling left out. Too bad waterfowl season was over…them geese don’t know how lucky they are.
Yep as usual the # 5 hard shot loaded with 452AA like I would for skeet did the trick – always do. I had to shoot the Ithaca; it just begs to be shot.
“Are you nuts or just plum crazy?â€
I told the old farmer to shut up and poor the coffee. He poured and shut up…laughing, shaking his head, but he kept his mouth shut. His wife said her husband was one to talk, he had been known to hunt in the freezing rain for waterfowl with another idiot – said idiot was sipping her coffee and sitting across from her…I looked around to see who had joined us.
“Well get out there and help him clean the rabbits, I cannot get any work done with you in my way…â€
I left all but one rabbit with them; I didn’t turn down the venison offered though.
I headed back out, removed and replaced the chain back over the gated posts. I stopped by the Toddle House, Mabel was appreciative of the rabbit, been hankering for a stew she said.
“Here, take these fresh fried apple pies we just finished up, I know you too well Steveâ€. Having a reputation and being consistent is a good thing, the half dozen drove me nuts with their aroma for the rest of the way home.
I took care of my gear first, and then I took a shower. I needed a nap to work up an appetite. Flour and fry some venison, apple pie for dessert.
Some things one cannot improve on …
I had not hunted rabbits in the snow in awhile; yep it’ll snow, so I prepared my stuff.
Now there are some truisms that happen in hunting anything- they may not be etched in granite, may not have been published, heck may not have even hit the Internet, they just seem to happen often.
NO matter how tall a boot one wears in the snow – the snow will be at least one inch deeper.
Oh I planned on wearing the Danner’s I bought some 20 + years ago, I was going to hunt in my hip boots.
You see another truism is water is always deeper than it appears, and water has a tendency to hide under, brush, growth and snow.
So the silk underwear, silk socks to under the wool socks, blue jeans, Pendleton wool shirt, and waxed Canvas Barbour Coat were laid out. Now where did I put the $5 wool third world military pants with suspenders bought at the Army Surplus? Oh there they are, hanging up next to the chest waders. I wear these wool pants over pants for warmth; wool keeps one warm even if wet. I keep these hung up next to the waders – I snagged the hip boots.
I guess I need a gun- huh? Humm, what to take for wabbits? Now do I want to actually hunt the rascals, or do I want to just play in the snow using “hunting†as an excuse?
I do have those shells I reloaded like skeet loads with #5 hard shot in 12 and 20 gauges. Then again there is something about .22 rifle- but you know the .410 single shot is too much fun for something like this…I have to think about this.
“The 1911 style is such an antiquated design…†kept reverberating in my head. I really don’t know what to think about folks that say stuff like that. So I took my Combat Commander,The one I carried - always- and loaded it up with 200 grain of the HG #68 variety, Cocked and Locked I put it in a plastic dishpan and set it outside in a safe place. The idea was to let it snow on the gun and – once again prove to myself what others have known for years. I’d take along a 3" RB HB Model 64 for grins and Carry – I always carry when I hunt – even with a long gun.
I awake to twenty something degrees and six inches of snow – I knew it would.
So dressed and the gear ready to go I head out to my car to clear the snow, a dry powder for a change, not the wet stuff we normally get around here. The trunk leaked and didn’t even bother trying to open, years later I would buy a truck, granted the bed gets wet, but it at least dries out and does not freeze “shutâ€. Another note to self – don’t buy another white vehicle- has to be the dumbest thing to drive in the snow…
“Hey Sugar, whatcha have?†Damn does Mabel “ever†go home from the Toddle House? I replied “the usualâ€. “ So where are you off to – I remember a time when you stayed out late and came to eat with me after you had been out and before going home? Let me guess, with a Ruark breakfast you must be going hunting.†Mabel was good, perceptive good. I mean any waitress that has read Ruark – has to be pretty sharp in my book.
The drive on the highway was fine; these country roads might get tricky – even for a 4600 pound land yacht. I pulled into the gas station, popped the wheel covers and put on the emergency chains I had tossed onto the back floorboard. The snow was melting off the 1911, grinning, because I wasn’t worried. Topped of the 27 gallon tank and continued on.
I bumped the gate a few times with the front bumper to shake off the snow; I could see the chain and Yale Lock. I didn’t have a key; in fact nobody had a key. This was my idea, see folks see a chain and lock and turn around. Heck some folks not used to the country will rattle and pull the chain to see if the lock is undone, when it won’t they leave. We just needed something to dissuade folks from trespassing- they don’t read the signs, they read locks. So I took a piece of heavy chain, with a Yale Lock locked it up and just placed it “over†the gate posts. All I had to do – anyone had to do was “lift “it off. Simple sure does beat complicated at times. *grin*
Oh Goody – my headlights are scattering wabbits into the hedgerow, brush and ditches- this is going to be fun.
My excuse for doing “donuts†in the snow was to clear the snow so my car would not get stuck. I parked, donned my ugly wool cowboy hat, tossed the extra floor mat onto the ground and proceeded to don my hip boots.
I looked at the Ithaca 37 in 12 gauge and decided I would wait. I grabbed the 1911 and walked down the dirt road a bit. The wabbit just froze at the sound of my whistle, the 1911 barked and not 15 steps away I had my first rabbit, shot with an “antiquated designâ€. * smirk*
I use two quarters rubbing together to attract squirrels, the whistle to stop rabbits. Okay I carry a Coaches whistle afield, sound carries further than me yelling for help and I guess they don’t teach folks about 3 gun shots anymore. Then again with the new “wondernines†how would one know if you were in trouble or just “spraying and praying� We didn’t – I wasn’t taught to shoot that way, even with a BHP…
So I walk the hedgerow, munching on Jerky and whistling when need to shoot a rabbit. My backpack was a bit heavy, the weight is supported by the shoulders, beats the heck out of those game belts that pulls your britches down. Now if the durn rabbits wouldn’t take a last hop or flop into the water in the ditch…I knew hip boots was a good idea.
I went back to the car and dumped the game onto the top of my car. I fired off the other 3 mags that I had allowed to get snowed on, and shot them as fast as could, nary a hitch. Inserted a fresh mag, and decided to see what a Model 64 could do. Okay - I knew what it would do , I just wanted to shoot the durn thing. *grin*
I took two with the Model 64 and decided the Ithaca was feeling left out. Too bad waterfowl season was over…them geese don’t know how lucky they are.
Yep as usual the # 5 hard shot loaded with 452AA like I would for skeet did the trick – always do. I had to shoot the Ithaca; it just begs to be shot.
“Are you nuts or just plum crazy?â€
I told the old farmer to shut up and poor the coffee. He poured and shut up…laughing, shaking his head, but he kept his mouth shut. His wife said her husband was one to talk, he had been known to hunt in the freezing rain for waterfowl with another idiot – said idiot was sipping her coffee and sitting across from her…I looked around to see who had joined us.
“Well get out there and help him clean the rabbits, I cannot get any work done with you in my way…â€
I left all but one rabbit with them; I didn’t turn down the venison offered though.
I headed back out, removed and replaced the chain back over the gated posts. I stopped by the Toddle House, Mabel was appreciative of the rabbit, been hankering for a stew she said.
“Here, take these fresh fried apple pies we just finished up, I know you too well Steveâ€. Having a reputation and being consistent is a good thing, the half dozen drove me nuts with their aroma for the rest of the way home.
I took care of my gear first, and then I took a shower. I needed a nap to work up an appetite. Flour and fry some venison, apple pie for dessert.
Some things one cannot improve on …
