With regards to the Society of Misguided Adventurers...
- Thread starter 1899
- Start date
Late 80s, early 90s. Gun used was a cooey bolt repeater. I bought a nazi 8mm mauser, a winchester 2200 shotgun, and a ruger 10-22. I despise the 10-22...
For reference, I was born in 82.... Neighbours used to pay me to kill them in their canola fields. The gophers would eat half a quarter section to the ground in palces...
I suppose that you guys are so snooty, that just because I'm in the other Society, I won't be allowed to join this one..............I have killed some significant rodents, and on several continents and many countries. And I fully intend to take the greatest of them all before I hang up my rifles for good.............the Capybara. I suppose this is all too exotic for this club, and I'm disqualified already..........
Did you kill a lemming hoarde??
I think that should qualify.
I converted a smooth bore pellet gun to fire a half teaspoon of table salt. I bag my daily limits of Hornet, Wasp, and Yellow Jacket every Saturday afternoon while enjoying my post-grass cutting beverage.
I've taken a mouse in the North American Kitchen with a .177 Rigby
I've taken a whole family of squirrels in the Lower Mainland Basement with a .22BMG.
Numerous other mice, rats, chipmunks, and squirrels lay in my wake, including a squirrel which I expertly picked off between two song birds on my mothers bird feeder. We watched the now-unencumbered song birds dance and sing while we chewed on the chicken-fried squirrel morsels.
So am I in? Gotta get me that patch.
I've taken a mouse in the North American Kitchen with a .177 Rigby
I've taken a whole family of squirrels in the Lower Mainland Basement with a .22BMG.
Numerous other mice, rats, chipmunks, and squirrels lay in my wake, including a squirrel which I expertly picked off between two song birds on my mothers bird feeder. We watched the now-unencumbered song birds dance and sing while we chewed on the chicken-fried squirrel morsels.
So am I in? Gotta get me that patch.
To be honest, one of my most "thrilling" "hunts" was a rat cull in a buddy's chicken coop:
The coop was a few hundred yards from the house with no power, so we strung up a series of extension cords from the house and a trouble light before it got dark. We didn't have a means of communicating with the house so we left instructions with his little brother to unplug and plug the lights for us. We'd wait in the dark while the rats came out, then start shooting when the lights came on. The plan was 5 minutes of dark followed by 1 minute of light, and repeat.
5 minutes was 5 minutes too long. The moment we were swallowed up by the pitch dark we could hear the rats scurrying out of there hiding places. The room was small and you'd feel them walk accross your foot or put their paws up on your calf and sniff your leg. I swear I had one lean in off a rafter and sniff and tickle my ear with his whiskers. Longest 5 minutes of my life.
Then: bam! The lights come on and 2 dozen pairs of beady eyes swing to look at you, and the onus of fear is transferred. We start shooting as fast as we can, being mindfull of the chickens and rabbits around us too. Then the darkness returns, as do the pitter patter of dirty little paws...
One of my most memorable hunts and a source of unending nightmares.
The coop was a few hundred yards from the house with no power, so we strung up a series of extension cords from the house and a trouble light before it got dark. We didn't have a means of communicating with the house so we left instructions with his little brother to unplug and plug the lights for us. We'd wait in the dark while the rats came out, then start shooting when the lights came on. The plan was 5 minutes of dark followed by 1 minute of light, and repeat.
5 minutes was 5 minutes too long. The moment we were swallowed up by the pitch dark we could hear the rats scurrying out of there hiding places. The room was small and you'd feel them walk accross your foot or put their paws up on your calf and sniff your leg. I swear I had one lean in off a rafter and sniff and tickle my ear with his whiskers. Longest 5 minutes of my life.
Then: bam! The lights come on and 2 dozen pairs of beady eyes swing to look at you, and the onus of fear is transferred. We start shooting as fast as we can, being mindfull of the chickens and rabbits around us too. Then the darkness returns, as do the pitter patter of dirty little paws...
One of my most memorable hunts and a source of unending nightmares.
That sounds like fun Kodiakjack. I know what you mean about the rats touching you in the dark. Many years ago I was sleeping in an abandoned cabin on a goat hunt and the rats would crawl over you in the middle of the night. Man do I ever hate the sound of scurrying little paws.
a GOAT hunt?! Hmmm. That sounds a little elitist. We may need to kick you out of your own club.
Who has the Rules of Order for the Patch-Ripping-Off ceremony? Anyone?
1899......goat, isn't that the code name for mountain marmot, when we're talking around REAL big game hunters............There saved your ass..........(now you have to let me in your anti-elitist club).......
I want to belong to what's-his-name's club too where everyone must post as an individual and say nothing in reference to anyone else's post or..........POOF..........you're out on your ear...
I want to belong to what's-his-name's club too where everyone must post as an individual and say nothing in reference to anyone else's post or..........POOF..........you're out on your ear...
You are in, and thereby are possibly the first to achieve the trifecta of club memberships: SOMA, Not-Elite but still desirable club and the Ones That Shan't Be Mentioned club....or whatever they all are.
Too bad a bunch of you aren't around to pop by for a beer. ROA - I'd leave the patio door open with a 6 pack on the corner of the table so you can slip in without anyone noticing, take the beer and drink it in the tree fort by yourself.
I'll be passing through on my way to ft. St. James in late august.
Please leave the beer in a place on the table where it won't get too much sun and go skunky. Thanks.
I hereby submit myself for membership...many years ago as a teenager, we were hunting dyke rats in Richmond, BC at night with an air gun and a buddy's .22 we had smuggled out of the house. We came across one that was about 2 feet from tip to tip (including tail)...we each put several shots into it...me with the pellet gun, my buddy with the .22 and it barely recoiled...then it came towards us. We ran back to my car and ended up running it over. Not sure if we killed it as we were about to get out to check and we saw the RCMP racing down the Dyke road, no doubt responding to the "shots fired" called in from the farmhouse literally 30 metres away. Always expected to run into that rat again one day.
I have one Peroni Nastro Azzurro left, although I suspect that will be gone within the next 15 minutes. I did have two other hunters pop in about 1 hour ago and we had some Basel Hayden's bourbon and Hibiki 17 year old Japanese whisky.
Damn...I think I may have to kick myself out of my own club.
Damn...I think I may have to kick myself out of my own club.
Republic of Alberta
CGN Ultra frequent flyer
- Location
- ,location, location
I nod in your general direction
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