The afternoon hunt started like all the rest: drive into the forest, park somewhere then stalk about a while. Peter still in tow with his camera, we were hoping to find a roe to add to the footage and complete the set for a marketing video. Well, not to disappoint, nature provided what we were looking for. That slippery devil that got away from me before was hanging out in the same field. This must be his usual hangout. Now, it’s important to note that after the mouflon was skinned Akosh departed with the Sidekick, still having the shooting sticks in the bed. We realized this shortly after stepping from the truck. George offered up his shoulder with a stern reminder not to flag him. I merely replied that I’ve been teaching firearms safety for over 15 years, and he’s going to be safe.
This is a timber producing forest. There are stacks of logs cut about 5 feet in length all over the place. Previously, they were ever so conveniently behind one where my height was just about enough to be a benefit. Almost. I could see over the top of the stack, but no way could I use it for a rest without being on my tippie toes. I considered trying to gingerly remove a few logs, but in hindsight that wouldn’t have mattered much as the stack was two runs wide. We scanned the area for quite a long time.
Peter was back a little way from the stack and was the one that saw the buck. It was further to the left than before, but far enough that we could lean around the living tree at the far left end. George saw it next and confirmed that it was a good buck to be taken. Given their territorial nature, it’s likely this is the same deer as before. I was directed to the end, and offered up a shoulder. Funny thing about using a moving object for a shooting rest…. As the target continues to strafe to the right, the human naturally wants to continue looking at it. I said stand still, but I expect George thought I was talking to the buck. My tracking with the sight was rather difficult, since the rest was going down and left but the target was going up and right. POW!
Until now, I couldn’t really decide whether this 7x64 Brennecke was a soft shooter, or if the hunting experience was keeping me from feeling the recoil. This time, the answer finally hit me. You may have guessed, but by “answer” what I really mean to say is “scope.” Nineteen mother-loving years and I’ve never scoped myself. Today is the day…. I promptly slammed my hand to my face with a gentle OW while at the same time feeling a thick bead of blood start to run down my nose. Sumbich… I got me.
From other points of view in this story, George saw dust behind the animal, and thought just maybe the round passed through and then struck dirt. He looked at Peter and got the negative head shake.
Peter, saw the dust fly in the video screen, and knew there was a solid miss. Then he looked at me as I turned around and got a big smile on his face. I moved my hand to show the end result. At least I managed to draw blood on something this time, right?? Laughs were had, explanations discussed. Blah, blah, blah. Better to have missed altogether than to have wounded this beautiful critter. (clearly not talking about myself there, although I am a beautiful man!). It’s back to the truck to return to the lodge. They said it might need stitches. I did the instinctive first aid thing I’ve got deeply ingrained from 18 years military, 7 years paramedic, applying direct pressure for a while. I guess I got it closed up well enough because it didn’t take long to stop. Looking at it now, it seems no stitches will be needed.
We discussed whether it was likely we’d find the same buck a third time in the same place. George said most likely so. A picture was sent to Akosh, and he said not to feel bad about getting bit. He’d already had that pleasure twice before! I decided maybe this gun is better for a bench or standing upright instead of getting that forward lean I prefer.
The next morning was uneventful, mostly. Happy Birthday to me, we all overslept by 90 minutes and lost the chance for a quality stalk. George and I were heading out on our own in his 4x4, and old Nissan SUV that I had mistaken for a Sidekick. We didn’t make it far before discovering that the clutch had pretty well given up on life. No power transfer when trying to go up the slightest hill. Back to the lodge to take a stroll a bit closer to the house. The only thing we saw was one fox too far out, then a roe doe in the same place on the way returning. Bummer. Breakfast and a nap.
The evening held a plan to go after the dirty, cat-like, 9-lives having sucker. George went to sit alone and wait for pigs, Akosh and I went after my arch nemesis. We got back to the same wood pile with seats just in case. The skeeters were out with a vengeance, just like me. The buck was spotted by magic, I believe, between two smallish piles of wood a solid 200m away. I never would have seen that myself without it being pointed out. Super slick ninja skills got me to within about 175m of the target. Again, he’s walking up and to the right, but in no hurry. I guess he didn’t hear the doe and fawn scramble when we got too close. He’s oblivious, and this gives me the edge. Slightly further up and the sticks were posted. I plugged the other ear with foam protection, set up and felt pretty good about my minimal wobble. Easy peasy trigger squeezy. POW!
You’ve got to be KIDDING ME! I missed high again by meager inches. Run, run away you lucky bastard. Walking back to the truck I spotted another buck on the same hillside, now to the left. It moved to the wood line and stopped long enough to be seen wearing his velvet antler covers. Dude’s got swag, but too young to be taken. We drove back to a field to confirm the sights since I missed high two separate times. Nope! Just a crappy shooter…. A short stalk in another area to find no animals ended in picking up George and coming home empty-handed for my birthday. I only got the gift of life reminding me you don’t always get what you want.
New plan to give it one last go tomorrow afternoon. That'll be my last change at it. George days if I don't take it he'll keep that area off limits until I return! Hahaha!
You can almost see where the buck would have been. Akosh leading the ninja stalk. And the stag beetle that he found crawling up his leg in the truck. And the selfie of my self inflictie. Of course, I'm going to be telling everyone the scar came when the ram got up, but you all would probably have your bull sh*t alarms screaming!