So here it was , 1960 and Grandad and i were on a groundhog safari on his farm in eastern Ontario . Beautiful fields of alphalfa swaying in the breeze and the land seperated by old cedar rail fences .
Grandad was first to spot the woodchuck in the next field but his old eyes weren't as good as they once were so i dropped down to crawl to our side of the fenceline to get a better look . I chuckled to myself as Grandad immediately got down and started crawling beside me . I was 9 and Gandpa was about 75 but here he was crawling through the alphalfa like a commando with that single shot Cooey .22 rifle .
Lots of tall weeds by the fenceline so we seperated them and crawled up to the fence . The old cedar rails had seen thier better days and were partially collapsed with the second rail being about 1 foot higher than the bottom rail .
As we peered into the next field luck was on our side as the breeze was blowing directly toward us and that old woodchuck was just sitting there with his back turned and his head out of his hole about 30 yards away .
Grandpa looked over a me and with a smile handed the Cooey and a single .22 round . I chambered the round and held my breath as i pulled the knob back to #### the rifle and when it went , click , the groundhog heard nothing . I next layed the rifle on the bottom rail but it was a bit difficult to pick up the sights since the sun was right in front of us .
The woodchuck was black and a bit out of focus as were the sights looking into the sun but with confidence i settled the sights squarely on the back of the hogs head and squeezed the trigger .
Grandpa and i were laying side by side with shoulders touching and had to keep our heads down to see under the second rail when the rifle fired . Bang , Ting , Thud . Now that was odd as i'd shot the hog right in the head , but he was still sitting there . I put my hand out for another round but Grandpa sensed something , and he stood up . I couldn't believe it . Grandad was about to scare my groundhog away .
Grandpa cupped both hands over his eyes to shade from the sun and stood there for a long while , and the groundhog didn't spook . He took a tall step over the fence and i had to climb over and we walked toward the varmint , but the varmint didn't move .
The groundhog was a broke plow blade sticking up in the field . Grandpa looked back to where we were laying and then walked back and crouched down looking at the cedar rails .
Bang , Ting , Thud . The Bang was the rifle going off , the Ting was the bullet striking the steel plow blade and the Thud was the returning bullet hitting the second rail right between our foreheads .
We never told anyone about that lest they think Grandad too old for hunting and me too young while the real fault lay with the angle of the sun . That summer Grandad gave me his top break Iver Johnson 9 shot .22 revolver and i put the sneak on many real groundhogs and brought them to justice .
I carried that Iver Johnson revolver with me everywhere , even into the small town of Delta where i purchased my .22 ammuntion and shot it out of grandads car window at groundhogs in the passing field and shot it off the fender of his tractor while Grandpa was driving .
The farm is long gone , Grandpa is long gone , the Iver Johnson is long gone but i'm left with some very good memories and thought i'd share one .
For the younger folks , farms were very big back then , the closest neighbour may be 2 miles away and shooting at groundhogs from a car presented no danger to anyone .
In 1962 i was 11 years old and Grandad was 77 and we spent our last summer together hunting raccoons and groundhogs all the while Grandad telling me the stories of his youth . The end of that summer i had to return home and that was the last time i saw Grandpa . Myself and some friends built a raft to float the river and the raft broke appart . As i swam for the shore the Iver Johnson dropped from my jacket pocket and went to the bottom .
Grandad was first to spot the woodchuck in the next field but his old eyes weren't as good as they once were so i dropped down to crawl to our side of the fenceline to get a better look . I chuckled to myself as Grandad immediately got down and started crawling beside me . I was 9 and Gandpa was about 75 but here he was crawling through the alphalfa like a commando with that single shot Cooey .22 rifle .
Lots of tall weeds by the fenceline so we seperated them and crawled up to the fence . The old cedar rails had seen thier better days and were partially collapsed with the second rail being about 1 foot higher than the bottom rail .
As we peered into the next field luck was on our side as the breeze was blowing directly toward us and that old woodchuck was just sitting there with his back turned and his head out of his hole about 30 yards away .
Grandpa looked over a me and with a smile handed the Cooey and a single .22 round . I chambered the round and held my breath as i pulled the knob back to #### the rifle and when it went , click , the groundhog heard nothing . I next layed the rifle on the bottom rail but it was a bit difficult to pick up the sights since the sun was right in front of us .
The woodchuck was black and a bit out of focus as were the sights looking into the sun but with confidence i settled the sights squarely on the back of the hogs head and squeezed the trigger .
Grandpa and i were laying side by side with shoulders touching and had to keep our heads down to see under the second rail when the rifle fired . Bang , Ting , Thud . Now that was odd as i'd shot the hog right in the head , but he was still sitting there . I put my hand out for another round but Grandpa sensed something , and he stood up . I couldn't believe it . Grandad was about to scare my groundhog away .
Grandpa cupped both hands over his eyes to shade from the sun and stood there for a long while , and the groundhog didn't spook . He took a tall step over the fence and i had to climb over and we walked toward the varmint , but the varmint didn't move .
The groundhog was a broke plow blade sticking up in the field . Grandpa looked back to where we were laying and then walked back and crouched down looking at the cedar rails .
Bang , Ting , Thud . The Bang was the rifle going off , the Ting was the bullet striking the steel plow blade and the Thud was the returning bullet hitting the second rail right between our foreheads .
We never told anyone about that lest they think Grandad too old for hunting and me too young while the real fault lay with the angle of the sun . That summer Grandad gave me his top break Iver Johnson 9 shot .22 revolver and i put the sneak on many real groundhogs and brought them to justice .
I carried that Iver Johnson revolver with me everywhere , even into the small town of Delta where i purchased my .22 ammuntion and shot it out of grandads car window at groundhogs in the passing field and shot it off the fender of his tractor while Grandpa was driving .
The farm is long gone , Grandpa is long gone , the Iver Johnson is long gone but i'm left with some very good memories and thought i'd share one .
For the younger folks , farms were very big back then , the closest neighbour may be 2 miles away and shooting at groundhogs from a car presented no danger to anyone .
In 1962 i was 11 years old and Grandad was 77 and we spent our last summer together hunting raccoons and groundhogs all the while Grandad telling me the stories of his youth . The end of that summer i had to return home and that was the last time i saw Grandpa . Myself and some friends built a raft to float the river and the raft broke appart . As i swam for the shore the Iver Johnson dropped from my jacket pocket and went to the bottom .
