Delving further into obscurity. What pray tell have I done!
- Thread starter Noel
- Start date
Wow, just damn - the best nostalgic hunting thing I've stumbled over ever....... I tip my glass to the people of era, H4831 and Others. It's the timeframe that I should have been born in.
Dirk
Dirk
Great stories and pics! My Dad taught me the finer points of finding Prairie Chicken and bush partridge when I was a kid. He wasn't able to walk a lot, but I tagged along as the "retriever". Some of my best memories from my childhood and ones that stand out are when I was "chicken hunting" with my Dad.
Thanks for keeping this thread alive.
Thanks for keeping this thread alive.
freddyfour
CGN Ultra frequent flyer
- Location
- Brant County, Ontario
Nicely done Looky, not sure how I missed this one the first time! Outstanding thread Noel!
That’s my great uncle Reder’s AJ Helland Swedish made knife. A shame I didn’t know better how to sharpen it as a kid when Mom gave it to me to preserve the patina. But, it has been a favourite to carry and use over the years I’ve had it.
Pocket watch was my Great Grandfathers.
They make for great photo embellishments.
If anyone wants to toss in their own pictures or stories feel welcome to it. I can share a bunch more as time permits but feel vain doing so. Keep it rolling.
Hi kids, and Kamlooky......
Seems prudent to give an update. Even if Bruce isn't here to comment, or enjoy. A season of great reflection, and if honest, heartache. Lost my brother in law back in January in a truck wreck. He knew his Lord so I will get to see him again. Still, this year there was longing to sit in the field and wait to see what comes out with him one more time.
In October I was terminated for not bowing to Trudeau's decree. Up the creek for that stance it would seem. But my Grandfather died the day before my brother in law from his first jab, so my employer and the government can pound salt.
I'm a little angry, disillusioned, wondering where the course is.. and had a ton of time to hunt the field. So out with the Remington.
I carried the 30S almost every day I went out. He's been affectionately named Samson. With feeding him 200gr KKSP's, he is making quite the impression. The only load he fires.
Took a bad eye injury last year leaving my vision dimmed so I did the unspeakable and tapped Samson for a scope. Try as I might I could not find a first generation set of Redfield mounts and rings to keep it period correct. I picked up a fixed 6X Emil Busch scope. Had Trace clean it and add a fine crosswire in it. The 30mm tube and 45mm glass made it a beast to carry but dead steady. Glad I'm not going far. Haha.
I sat at the back field under the spruce. It has sheltered me and hid my position many times over 31 seasons. I sat there silent, the past memories hitting like those wind driven snow flakes that sting your face.
And then the deer started filing out. Haven't shot a buck since the one earlier in this thread in 2013. In hopes they would get bigger. They elude me. Haha.
Within 40yds the little bucks are sparring. The wind is right in my face and they are at a crosswind position, not yet able to get my scent but they will soon. They are oblivious to their audience, and have a heading to pass me inside 20yds to go feed.
Deer season doesn't open for three more days and there's nothing to do but groan as I anticipate filling my elk tag.
And sure enough, I hear hoof steps from the dark timber 80yds away, and to the right of the deer. Out steps a small five point bull and I wonder how this will pan out. The lead doe sees my movement as I set my rifle level on the wood block for a steady rest. The bull wastes no time in coming into the field. He is alone. As doe blows, she scares the other seven deer. They spin and run right behind the bull, he hasn't a clue what the fuss is about, and stops walking to watch them. Bends down to sniff the ground. I let him turn a bit so the angle isn't so slight. Double check the point count. Everything feels right, it's that moment where we all hope to be each year.
There is a tremendous smack at the shot. It took both lungs and the liver so his stance widened as he tried to gain his breathe. His ears are down as the second shot broke his neck with the crack of a breaking tree trunk. No suffering. The whitetails are going every direction.
Even with the cold weather, he had been bedded or rolling in a spring in the timber during the day. His coat saturated and packed with mud and the calcium deposits that the water brings up. This explained the loud slap of the initial hit. So grateful for meat in the freezer.
A long tedious dressing job ensued with my Son, to keep the meat clean. He won't know how much his company meant that evening for years to come. When he stumbles across this post likely.
On the 15th, in the morning I got out of bed and got my gear on and grabbed Samson. By this time in the season I had been taking other rifles out in hopes of having them cut their teeth but it hadn't happened yet. So the rotation was back to the 30-06 and out I go. Wasn't far behind my folks farm next door, and I caught movement right where I had spooked the deer with my elk. My binoculars revealed a buck having some fun with chasing a doe. He was a four point by the way I was taught. That is, four points on one side not including the brow tine. He wasn't the biggest but this year he was the right one. I stepped over to a post and set my elbow on it.
He was quartered towards me, and lowered his head to check the does scent. I held inside his shoulder and squeezed. I would hazard 120yds but should go measure. The heavy wet snow falling made it just the perfect icing on the cake touch. He was down at the sound of the shot, didn't take a step. An 8 year drought ended.
It was a surreal moment to look at that buck and my rifle leaning on him. Just like my Gramma's brothers would have done on this patch of dirt a century ago. I am so blessed. Can't help but make more of these small moments. These were two of the few moments that made sense this whole year.
I should add also, my Son decided to carry Nuggets 280 Ackley this fall, in his memory. He got his two tags filled decidedly with it. These are among the most precious moments shared and have a dad burst with pride.
Hoping you all had a great hunting season. And I hope '22 is kinder as well.
Seems prudent to give an update. Even if Bruce isn't here to comment, or enjoy. A season of great reflection, and if honest, heartache. Lost my brother in law back in January in a truck wreck. He knew his Lord so I will get to see him again. Still, this year there was longing to sit in the field and wait to see what comes out with him one more time.
In October I was terminated for not bowing to Trudeau's decree. Up the creek for that stance it would seem. But my Grandfather died the day before my brother in law from his first jab, so my employer and the government can pound salt.
I'm a little angry, disillusioned, wondering where the course is.. and had a ton of time to hunt the field. So out with the Remington.
I carried the 30S almost every day I went out. He's been affectionately named Samson. With feeding him 200gr KKSP's, he is making quite the impression. The only load he fires.
Took a bad eye injury last year leaving my vision dimmed so I did the unspeakable and tapped Samson for a scope. Try as I might I could not find a first generation set of Redfield mounts and rings to keep it period correct. I picked up a fixed 6X Emil Busch scope. Had Trace clean it and add a fine crosswire in it. The 30mm tube and 45mm glass made it a beast to carry but dead steady. Glad I'm not going far. Haha.
I sat at the back field under the spruce. It has sheltered me and hid my position many times over 31 seasons. I sat there silent, the past memories hitting like those wind driven snow flakes that sting your face.
And then the deer started filing out. Haven't shot a buck since the one earlier in this thread in 2013. In hopes they would get bigger. They elude me. Haha.
Within 40yds the little bucks are sparring. The wind is right in my face and they are at a crosswind position, not yet able to get my scent but they will soon. They are oblivious to their audience, and have a heading to pass me inside 20yds to go feed.
Deer season doesn't open for three more days and there's nothing to do but groan as I anticipate filling my elk tag.
And sure enough, I hear hoof steps from the dark timber 80yds away, and to the right of the deer. Out steps a small five point bull and I wonder how this will pan out. The lead doe sees my movement as I set my rifle level on the wood block for a steady rest. The bull wastes no time in coming into the field. He is alone. As doe blows, she scares the other seven deer. They spin and run right behind the bull, he hasn't a clue what the fuss is about, and stops walking to watch them. Bends down to sniff the ground. I let him turn a bit so the angle isn't so slight. Double check the point count. Everything feels right, it's that moment where we all hope to be each year.
There is a tremendous smack at the shot. It took both lungs and the liver so his stance widened as he tried to gain his breathe. His ears are down as the second shot broke his neck with the crack of a breaking tree trunk. No suffering. The whitetails are going every direction.
Even with the cold weather, he had been bedded or rolling in a spring in the timber during the day. His coat saturated and packed with mud and the calcium deposits that the water brings up. This explained the loud slap of the initial hit. So grateful for meat in the freezer.
A long tedious dressing job ensued with my Son, to keep the meat clean. He won't know how much his company meant that evening for years to come. When he stumbles across this post likely.
On the 15th, in the morning I got out of bed and got my gear on and grabbed Samson. By this time in the season I had been taking other rifles out in hopes of having them cut their teeth but it hadn't happened yet. So the rotation was back to the 30-06 and out I go. Wasn't far behind my folks farm next door, and I caught movement right where I had spooked the deer with my elk. My binoculars revealed a buck having some fun with chasing a doe. He was a four point by the way I was taught. That is, four points on one side not including the brow tine. He wasn't the biggest but this year he was the right one. I stepped over to a post and set my elbow on it.
He was quartered towards me, and lowered his head to check the does scent. I held inside his shoulder and squeezed. I would hazard 120yds but should go measure. The heavy wet snow falling made it just the perfect icing on the cake touch. He was down at the sound of the shot, didn't take a step. An 8 year drought ended.
It was a surreal moment to look at that buck and my rifle leaning on him. Just like my Gramma's brothers would have done on this patch of dirt a century ago. I am so blessed. Can't help but make more of these small moments. These were two of the few moments that made sense this whole year.
I should add also, my Son decided to carry Nuggets 280 Ackley this fall, in his memory. He got his two tags filled decidedly with it. These are among the most precious moments shared and have a dad burst with pride.
Hoping you all had a great hunting season. And I hope '22 is kinder as well.
Thanks gents,
Things had been up until late too busy to write. Thought If try today and it was a test to say the least. I’m well out of practice. And it’s a tad boring when it’s some guy only blathering of his back field when it use to be all over the place. It’s humbling I guess too. Not how I pictured the hunting career to be.
Things had been up until late too busy to write. Thought If try today and it was a test to say the least. I’m well out of practice. And it’s a tad boring when it’s some guy only blathering of his back field when it use to be all over the place. It’s humbling I guess too. Not how I pictured the hunting career to be.
Thanks for keeping this thread alive!
Yes we miss Bruce - guys like him are not replaced, although some might succeed him in some ways, you just don't find his level of knowledge, willingness to share and humility very often.
I assume the Swiss Vetterli has been retired?
Yes we miss Bruce - guys like him are not replaced, although some might succeed him in some ways, you just don't find his level of knowledge, willingness to share and humility very often.
I assume the Swiss Vetterli has been retired?
Thanks for keeping this thread alive!
Yes we miss Bruce - guys like him are not replaced, although some might succeed him in some ways, you just don't find his level of knowledge, willingness to share and humility very often.
I assume the Swiss Vetterli has been retired?
A coworker of mine wanted it in the worst way. The smile it brought to his face, holding what he calls his “pirate gun” I knew he should have it. I got a Peabody now instead. Hoping to sort a load for it at some point.
Wish we were closer in location so I could show you the Norwegian beast.
Got Leo to make me a mold similar to the Ogive profile of the old rim fire rounds you see. I know for hunting purpose it wants that big flat metplat and it proved to work well on the mule deer.
I like having the single shot that doesn’t require that specific OAL to feed perfect.
Side note that is quite interesting. On the my Dad’s side, my great great Uncle I found out had a Vetterli. Passed it along to his nephew. He only remembered his Uncle firing it once. The last old rimfire round he had. Nailed the pie plate, I think it was at 200 yds. Wish I could have met Harry. He hunted with an 1892 MKII Lee Metford too.
