I made it out for my first moose hunt. I must say it's defiantly more about the camp life then it was about hunting.
I've talked to a few people since I've returned and they have all offered the same advice. Hunting is something different for everyone involved. Each person who shows up at the camp has it set in their mind as to how that week will go and what they expect from it.
Myself I was expecting to be out in the bush every morning before sun up. Enjoying the warm sun on my face and the sound of silence around me.
I found that certain members of my group enjoyed drinking until 2 - 3 am most nights. Others would just mill around the camp all day. Some would go out on their own and do their own thing where ever they could find the space to do it.
Being a total Newb to the Moose Hunting experience (and hunting in general) I guess I was looking for a little more guidance from the older boys in the group. I wasn't looking for someone to hold my hand, but a little directions as to how I could assist their game plan would of been great.
Now, the moral of this story really has nothing to do with the camp life, or the thrill of the hunt. It's more of a self actualization of sorts as to how precarious my sense of safety and the trust in my equipment.
After spending a few days on a hot bed of moose activity and being close enough to hear the low chainsaw like grunts, I unfortunately had to pack it all in and head home. Upon trurning home I was talking to friends about all the bear and wolf sign where I was hunting. They asked me a few times what I would of done if confronted by any of the aforementioned animals. I simply explained that I was the hunter and not the hunted ... I carried the gun.
I was in for quite the eye opener.
I sat down on a friends picnic table out on his farm and figured that I'd blast off the rounds that were in the mag I was carrying. Well I chamber the round that I carried with me all weekend and inserted the magazine. I fired my first shot since sighting in the firearm the day before I left. I squeezed the trigger and the gun went bang just like so many times before.
Only this time the rifle didn't cycle the next round from the mag into the chamber. The rifle jammed !!!!!
The extractor broke the rim of the casing. Remington 74 in my hand and Remington Brass in the firearm. I had to use a cleaning rod to pop the spent case out of the chamber. I get the sneaking suspicion that could have severely hamper a quick follow up shot.
It was at this moment that i felt sick; having the realization that an equipment failure in the bush could of put a severe damper on my otherwise enjoyable and positive experience in the bush.
I guess as a word to all the other younger guys out there. Don't be so confident, cuz something will always put you in your place.
I've talked to a few people since I've returned and they have all offered the same advice. Hunting is something different for everyone involved. Each person who shows up at the camp has it set in their mind as to how that week will go and what they expect from it.
Myself I was expecting to be out in the bush every morning before sun up. Enjoying the warm sun on my face and the sound of silence around me.
I found that certain members of my group enjoyed drinking until 2 - 3 am most nights. Others would just mill around the camp all day. Some would go out on their own and do their own thing where ever they could find the space to do it.
Being a total Newb to the Moose Hunting experience (and hunting in general) I guess I was looking for a little more guidance from the older boys in the group. I wasn't looking for someone to hold my hand, but a little directions as to how I could assist their game plan would of been great.
Now, the moral of this story really has nothing to do with the camp life, or the thrill of the hunt. It's more of a self actualization of sorts as to how precarious my sense of safety and the trust in my equipment.
After spending a few days on a hot bed of moose activity and being close enough to hear the low chainsaw like grunts, I unfortunately had to pack it all in and head home. Upon trurning home I was talking to friends about all the bear and wolf sign where I was hunting. They asked me a few times what I would of done if confronted by any of the aforementioned animals. I simply explained that I was the hunter and not the hunted ... I carried the gun.
I was in for quite the eye opener.
I sat down on a friends picnic table out on his farm and figured that I'd blast off the rounds that were in the mag I was carrying. Well I chamber the round that I carried with me all weekend and inserted the magazine. I fired my first shot since sighting in the firearm the day before I left. I squeezed the trigger and the gun went bang just like so many times before.
Only this time the rifle didn't cycle the next round from the mag into the chamber. The rifle jammed !!!!!
The extractor broke the rim of the casing. Remington 74 in my hand and Remington Brass in the firearm. I had to use a cleaning rod to pop the spent case out of the chamber. I get the sneaking suspicion that could have severely hamper a quick follow up shot.
It was at this moment that i felt sick; having the realization that an equipment failure in the bush could of put a severe damper on my otherwise enjoyable and positive experience in the bush.
I guess as a word to all the other younger guys out there. Don't be so confident, cuz something will always put you in your place.
