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Im outta here....


SuperDan

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You ought to see what a 30-378 does to those nice innocent little birdies. A red cloud surrounded with feathers ready for making a pillow, simply awesome!

 

Dan will be back in a few days, he's out retrieving the motorhome from the bottom of a canyon before anyone notices. Huh dan!??

 

This ought to be good reading!

 

Dan, earth calling Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan (echos down the canyon)

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Ok, I should be working at work but ok, here we go....

 

“Cats? I thought we were hunting deer…” or ”How to ice down a deer”

 

Friday, Day 2.

 

04:30 am, Opening day! I hear my dad shuffling around to make a pot of coffee, thank god! My brothers snoring was getting to me and I was about ready to suffocate his ***.

The morning air was an unexpected surprise, 60 degrees and a light breeze, “screw this I am wearing just a T-shirt and my blaze vest!”

We loaded up and headed out to the area we scoped out the previous afternoon.

 

Now, understand that my dad is 62, I am 41, my cousin is 48 and my brother 38, all of the years we have been on hunts together my dad has always played the role of Boy Scout leader, and even at my age he still does it.

 

“All right, David and Wes, get out and one of you take this mountain and the other take that one, Dan and I will head down to the south and get up high on this bowl and we will all form a half circle around this area…. We will meet back at the truck at 09:00 am” Or something like that.

What my dad was really saying is “You two go out and push the deer right to me and Dan” hey, sounds good to me.

 

So, we get to our spot and my dad takes off one direction and I head off in the other. Typical of the area, lots of loose rocks and decomposing granite, mesquite bushes, ironwood, creosote brush, miscellanies shrubs and choa cactus.

 

BTW, does everyone know what choa cactus is? It’s proof that mother nature has a sick sense of humor. It’s a desert Chinese finger puzzle is what it is. It’s a small to medium size cactus that produces white / yellowish golf ball to orange size balls with needle size thorns that are extremely sharp and barbed. Even just barely touching one of the thorns and it has a good hold on you due to the barbed needle thorns, strong as hell, we affectionately refer to them a “gotcha cactus” If you ever get one of these nasty little suckers on the end of your boot, never try to kick it off, with each kick it will roll up your pants leg impaling you on it’s journey towards the top of your knee cap… enough about that, but important information for the rest of the story.

 

The hike up to the top of the hill was about medium difficulty on my scale, a few times I had to strap my rifle across my back and get down on all fours.

I Found a nice outcropping of rocks about 3000 ft up and planted my *** down.

Perfect view of the entire area, spotted my dad about 1000 yds away and down lower, no sign of my brother or cousin.

The sun was just starting to come up off the desert floor and small wind starting kicking up, absolutely beautiful.

So I am sitting there glassing below me some of the washes and game trails I found on the way up, the long shadows from the mountains are becoming shorter and the warm sun is just starting to beat down on the back of my neck when I hear a commotion from a wash about 300 yds down, I put my binoculars on the area and see a large cubby of quail hauling *** away from the area, I then see leg movement beneath the large brush surrounding the area, I quickly shoulder my rifle and crank up the 6 – 24 power scope to max, “hmmm… sighted it in at 2inch high at 200 yds, should be dead on at this range” I steady the rifle on my knee cap, “.. no way I can miss this shot, he is going down… HARD!”.

My thumb is on the hammer ready to cock it when something breaks out of the brush, out pops two bobcats, heading up the side of the hill away from me, “haha… little bastards….” . At this point I realize I am shaking a little… got buck fever and never even saw one.

 

 

So, I continue to glass the area, about 08:00am I noticed a blaze orange cap on top of the truck, a quick glassing of the truck reveals my dads cap on top of the cab and upon further investigation my father sitting on the tailgate enjoying an icy cold beer, “umm… ok, so 09:00 am came a lot quicker than I thought. He must have gotten tired or hurt himself” he looked fine and seemed to be really enjoying that beer so I am just going to hang out for a little longer.

About 15 minutes later I look over to the truck and there are three caps on the cab, “..wtf? they are having a tailgate party, ok I’m outta here”

 

I start to make my way down the mountain when a large football size rock that I thought I had a good foot hold on gives way, I am on an “E ride” to the bottom, I slid about 15 ft down before grabbing a branch and stopping myself 2 feet before dropping off a 200 ft face… ok, not really it was more like a 2 ft drop, but around the campfires years from now it will be a 200ft drop, increasing a hundred feet a year.:)

I check myself out, all good, dust off, and took a step “ouch!, wtf?” a piercing pain in the back of my leg behind my knee cap, without thinking I reached behind my leg to grab whatever it was, GOTCHA! “…ah ****!... I’m screwed” it has a good hold on my leg and now my hand, no choice… have to pull my hand off and hope none of the needles break off.

 

I pulled my hand around to find that the little sucker preferred my hand to my leg, there it was in front of me, about the size of a tangerine, it had managed to get all four of my fingers and tie them together tightly, my fathers words echoed in my head “… don’t ever try to spread your fingers apart, you will just piss it off…”. So I found a bush nearby to lean my rifle against and sat down for a little surgery. I pulled out my Gerber multi-tool and had just managed to get the pliers open when I heard a thumping sound coming from behind me, I turned quickly to see the *** end of 2 bucks hauling *** away from me…. “.. you gotta be f’ing kidding me” here I am incapable of even holding a rifle, I yell down to my dad, “deer… DEER!...” they all in unison raise their bottles and I hear “… yeah, it’s ice cold, come get one…” I then watched the bucks disappear over a small saddle, I yelled back “you guys are not related to me, who are you people, go away!” I hung my head in shame.

 

After about 5 minutes I managed to get my hand free and made my way back down to the truck, I was greeted by my cousin hold an ice cold bottle “what the hell is wrong with you guys?” I said.

 

After a short refresher course on our purpose for coming out here in the first place, we headed back to camp.

 

My dad made us a bitchen breakfast that included some very yummy venison sausage. Took a nice nap and we went back out around 3:00pm to do a quick truck hunt and check out the next area for our Saturday morning hunt.

Stay tuned for chapter 3 entitled,

"Worlds largest kitty litter box" or "The hunter becomes the hunted."

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Bad kitty, bad!, sit, sit!.”

 

Saturday, Day 3.

04:15 am. Laying in bed, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling, my brother is at it again with the snoring.

Time to rewind to a few days before we left on our trip.

Picture my wife and I in our bedroom, I am laying out all my gear on the bed to take a quick inventory, in my hands is my trusty Ruger Blackhawk 357 Mag.

Without fail I have carried this thing with me on every single hunt since I was 18. I slip on the belt and holster, tie the leg lace up and holster the shinny blue beauty.

“Honey, I think I might leave this at home this year…” I said “why?” she says. “I’m getting a little older and cannot move as fast as I use to when going up a hill, I think I want to pack light this year” I said, “why do you carry it at all if you already have a rifle?” she asks, Condom theory I explained.

She gives me a confused look, “I carry it because I do not need it” I tell her, now she is looking really confused, “I would rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it..” I said. Alright, I think I lost her so I explain how, although rare, there have been incidents were a hunter has taken a deer, elk etc down and while he was in the process of field dressing it was attacked by another animal such as a bear or mountain lion while his rifle was leaned up against a tree or non-accessible. Ok, she now gets it. I put my gear away and decide to make up my mind later on what to do.

 

Fast forward to the present, smell of coffee brewing, we are up, grab our gear and head out to a new location.

 

We pile out of the truck, Moe (my dad) is giving Larry and Curly (my brother and cousin) there marching orders, then comes my turn, “you remember that big *** wash we passed back behind us?” he says, “yeaaahhh….” I said “why don’t you hike up that wash heading west until you get to the base of that mountain, then head up it and get on the very top, you will see everything from up there” he tells me. I think to myself “why don’t I?” well for one, I hate hiking through sandy washes, it sucks, and it’s still dark, and it’s about 1000 yds to the base of that mountain, how’s that for starters bud?.

“Ok dad, sounds like a plan” I said, and I was off.

Time again for another translation, what my dad was really saying is “I will hike to the top of this little ridge overlooking the wash while I send my 1st born son down it to kick up any deer that may be in there so I can blast them when they pop out the top”

 

I’m in the wash, trucking along slowly, the sandy gravel bottom is tough going in spots, looking down along the way I see lots of tracks, “hmmm… deer tracks, but when?, wait, those are the tracks left by my brothers truck the evening before and these deer tracks are on top them, these are less than 12 hours old, woohoo!”

 

So I’m trucking along happy as can be and start to notice that this wash is getting deeper and deeper as I progress thru it, it’s a large wash and water has cut into the solid rock and I was now looking at the near vertical sides and they are about 8 – 10 feet tall, “maybe I should start looking for a way out of this thing and just skirt the side until I reach the base of that mountain”, yeah, that’s a good idea I thought.

Ok, I am about 500 yards in this sucker with at least that much left to travel when I look down to see if there is any more deer sign…”hmmm…. Yup, there are a few tracks right here, and what looks like cattle tracks, and a funny looking track”

 

Pop quiz, what kind of animal makes a track with 4 small pad prints half circling a larger pad?

 

Yup, you guessed it, mountain lion…. “hmmm…, prints are about the size of a large grapefruit, OK, that’s a big kitty!” “oh, and very fresh, nice!, it was heading the same direction as I am, excellent!” I stopped for a few minutes to gather my thoughts, should I head back? Or keep on trucking and jump out of this wash at the first opportunity? “Hell with it, keep trucking…”

 

Now I am moving along at a slightly hastened pace, but stopping every 25 feet or so to check my back and above me.

 

In all the years we have hunted this area I have only seen 1 mountain lion, he was up about 800 yards on the side of a rock face peering out of a small cave, I was about 22 at the time.

 

For those who do not know they are pretty illusive creatures and do not perceive man as a food source or really a threat and would rather turn tail and run when confronted by man.

But, there are of course exceptions, the very basics are:

1. They are cornered or feel threatened.

2. They have fresh kill and you stumble into an area where they are feeding.

3. You have fresh kill, they are hungry, and want it.

4. Female with cubs.

5. Mentally unstable who just likes to kill for fun, hey it happens, they just snap.

(keep these in mind, we will be referring to them later)

 

Well, I have built this up enough, and it’s go to be pretty obvious what’s going to happen next.

I round a small bend in the wash and stop dead in my tracks, about 50 to 75 yards in front of me I see something off to the side, yup you guessed it’s a freaking huge mountain lion, looking back on it I would guess his weight at around 175+ lbs.

I stood there for a second, thinking he was going to turn tail and run, no dice, his head was down slightly and staring right at me, he heard me coming around that bend and was ready for me.

 

Rewind to Thursday morning at 05:00am, I had my gear already to load into the car, standing there holding my .357 in my hands, I said to my self “not this time old buddy, you going to sit this one out” I locked it back in the gun safe and headed on out.

In all the years I have carried it I have only had to use it once, and that was to put down a deer that I botched a shot on, what do I really need it for anyways? See condom theory above for an answer.

 

Fast forward to the preset.

A small voice in my head says “you idiot, wth were you thinking when you left your pistol behind”

I notice at his feet is something furry and grayish color, see basic kitty cat rule # 2 above.

 

Small voice in head is getting louder now “oh man, you really screwed up this time” “quick do something moron!”

At this point I am no longer petrified with fear and the vibrations in my body are starting to subside, reality is returning and I am starting to think clearly again.

 

Voice again “at that distance, if he rushes you, you will only get 1 shot off”

 

Decision time, I slowly un-sling my rifle, and shoulder it, his head lowers and he decides to open his mouth and show me his teeth, no noise from him and it looked almost like he was smiling at me.

I reach into my pocket and grab a 2nd round and put it between my teeth, not really ever expecting to be able to get a 2nd shot off, but it made me feel better.

I unsnapped the strap on my knife and drew a bead right between his eyes.

 

Damn voice again, “ummm… you are 2 inches high at 200 yds, he is about 60ish yards away” I try to quickly do the math in my head and said to hell with it, I put the crosshairs on his chin.

 

I cocked the hammer and suddenly he took a quick step forward "SONOFABITCH!”

 

To be continued, have to eat dinner……

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I don't think I could ever bring myself to shoot a dear, or any other large game

 

You will change your mind when you go on a 4,000 mile trip through Colorado and Utah with a rental '05 Cadillac Deville (i opted for NO insurance icon13.gif). TRUST ME! Before that ever so stressful trip through the Grand Staircase and Zion park at 2am, 25mph because there were so many deer, i would have never shot a deer. After that night, almost plowing into 100 deer, ill glady go hunting now icon10.gif

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This is getting good.

 

Large mountain lion at 60 yds (with cubs)(very dangerous and probably hungry).

 

Time required for experienced rifleman to fire an aimed shot: 3-4 seconds.

 

Time required for hungry mountain lion to cover 60 yds: 2-3 seconds.

 

Probability of said experienced rifleman (in extremely stressful situation) placing an incapacitating hit on running mountain lion: <50%

 

Single shot rifle with no backup sidearm, spare round clenched in teeth. Spare round probably will not chamber due to teeth marks deforming the brass. Additional spare rounds in pocket beneath car keys, pocket knife, loose change, and condoms.

 

Time required to dig second spare round out of pocket, without dropping condom, open breech, chamber round, and begin considering firing second (aimed) shot: 10-12 seconds (probably optimistic).

 

Probability of negotiating deal with (hungry) mountain lion to call the whole deal off and you both go back to hunting deer: <0%

 

Outcome TBD..........not looking good.....

 

jt

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Sorry guys, will have to wait until I get home tonight to finish the story, no time at work today.

Probability of said experienced rifleman (in extremely stressful situation) placing an incapacitating hit on running mountain lion:

Ok, now I am getting scared, I was giving myself a >75% chance of pulling it off :) but looking back on the situation I would say you are spot on.

One thing is for sure, I will be swapping out my scope mounts for a quick disconect style next time :icon44:

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You left your Ruger at home... :toetap05:

 

This is the little friend I carried in the woods for years.

 

http://www.ruger.com/Firearms/FAProdView?model=807&return=Y

 

I never had to use it in anger and I would probably have only got one shot off, but it is accurate as hell and my plan was to just wait until the angry critter got real close.

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You left your Ruger at home... :toetap05:

A mistake I never plan to repeat :icon52:

 

Have had this for ~10 years, just for target shooting and 1 time on a "pistol only" Javalina hunt.

http://www.ruger.com/Firearms/FAProdView?model=806&return=Y

 

But, what I left behind was this, only about 20 years older :)

http://www.ruger.com/Firearms/FAProdView?model=316&return=Y

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My personal favorite was my Ruger Speed 6 357Magnum. I gave it to my mother as a home defense weapon, and she loved it! :shock:

 

I now carry plastic guns exclusively... I'm a GLOCK fan! :2thumbs: .40 Cal model 27, to be exact. http://www.glock.com/g27.htm

 

BUt I really like this:

http://www.ruger.com/Firearms/FAProdView?model=5301&return=Y

 

BANG!! :lmao:

Mike :cool:

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My uncle was the president of Freedom Arms in the mid 80s. Got to shoot his "Oh ****" gun. .454 with 5" barrel, with 340 grain handloaded ammo. He said it was the second most powerful load ever made for the gun, second only to a 400 grain bullet they loaded for a safari. Needless to say, the 340 grain bullet was BRUTAL. But it was fun to shoot the thing and then watch EVERYONE elses' head swivel around like "WTF was THAT?!?!" Nothing like a 4' wide 6' long fireball out the end of your gun to attract attention... :D

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