- Joined
- Feb 16, 2006
- Messages
- 207
- Reaction score
- 8
Dad and I awoke early to the din of the clock radio. At times, the static of society and what is considered to be programming can be hard to distinguish.
We donned our hunting clothes and put the in-line muzzleloaders in the soft cases. I own two Black Diamonds. One, a stainless model , was purchased several years ago at a friend's gun shop. The second one, a blued model, is my lucky gun. I call it that since I won it at a club raffle. My Dad has always been shrewd and noticed that one man named John tended to win a disproportionate number of raffles. So cleverly, Dad put the name JOHN in block letters on four raffle tickets. When the drawing for the TC Black Diamond package was called, the number was picked with the name JOHN. When that name was given out, he got up but I asked what the numbers were. Our numbers matched. Needless to say, some jaws hit the floor.
We took off in the Ford Ranger for a 20 minute ride north of us. Legal shooting light is at 6:40 AM and we generally will go it at that time. We don't want to take any chances concerning the issue of safety since the news of a young woman killed in Maine during muzzleloader season.
We walk down the old logging road and Dad takes a seat at the big rock. I head further down and go to a treestand I set up several weeks ago but never got around to hunt, I saw a number of tracks around the base of my stand and made up my mind to go there again a couple more times before the season ended.
I go to my stand and see a chain hanging. I say to myself," Did someone try to steal my stand? Did someone booby trap it? " I climbed the ladder and carefully inspected every single nut, bolt and chain link.
It seems nothing had happened. So I climbed in and sat.
It wasn't long before the murmur of the northern forest would begin. It has a din of its own that is soothing to the soul. The sound of chickadees flittering about and perching in front of you. The sound of red squirrels digging through the detrius of the floor in search of food. The sound of a zephyr caressing your cheek as you peer northward in anticipation of a nice deer coming within range.
I heard a disproportionate amount of leaf movement to the left of me. I peered through the thick laurel jungle. One can capture specks of color and movement through this tangle, but rarely a full image of the animal in question.
I spied a flash of white. Initially I suspected that it to the tail of a deer. I ready the Black Diamond and sit tight. I soon see another flash of color. The color of an eastern coyote. They have an odd brownish tinge to them that is unmistakeable. I ready myself again. I search the laurels with the reticle of the Burris 2.5x scope and wait for him to come into a small opening .
Soon, the coyote is broadside to me. I place the crosshairs on its neck. The stand creaks and instantly he peers at me. I squeeze the trigger and the forest murmur is shattered with the launching of a Powerbelt . The white smoke clears and I see it trot off unharmed .
I cannot believe I missed. I am somewhat dismayed and disgusted with myself. How can I miss such a target at 50 or so yards?
Dad comes over and we circle the area in search of the coyote in case I did make a hit. No luck.
We decide to take off to Connecticut. It is the last day of the Nutmeg State's muzzleloader and so far, we have been having abnormally warm weather. We decided to pull the treestands at the little farm for the year . When we arrrived we joked a bit about the Grouse that Dad has adopted. We clear the cattle gate and I hear some drumming in the woods. Our little soldier is drumming in the laurel jungle.
We first bear right to my stand and begin to take it down. I tell Dad, " Hey. Our little friend is here to greet us." Sure enough, the grouse came to my stand and went under it. I sat in it for a while and watched it strut about the area. He still made his funny grouse noises and had flew up into some branches below me. I take my stand and ladder down and all the while the littel grouse was still a foot or two away from our feet.
We go to Dad's ladder stand and the same thing. He haunted us all the while we were there. We hope that the grouse survives and we see him next deer season. Maybe we'll take a quick stop over for turkey and see if he is still there.
All in all we had a great day minus the missed coyote.
We donned our hunting clothes and put the in-line muzzleloaders in the soft cases. I own two Black Diamonds. One, a stainless model , was purchased several years ago at a friend's gun shop. The second one, a blued model, is my lucky gun. I call it that since I won it at a club raffle. My Dad has always been shrewd and noticed that one man named John tended to win a disproportionate number of raffles. So cleverly, Dad put the name JOHN in block letters on four raffle tickets. When the drawing for the TC Black Diamond package was called, the number was picked with the name JOHN. When that name was given out, he got up but I asked what the numbers were. Our numbers matched. Needless to say, some jaws hit the floor.
We took off in the Ford Ranger for a 20 minute ride north of us. Legal shooting light is at 6:40 AM and we generally will go it at that time. We don't want to take any chances concerning the issue of safety since the news of a young woman killed in Maine during muzzleloader season.
We walk down the old logging road and Dad takes a seat at the big rock. I head further down and go to a treestand I set up several weeks ago but never got around to hunt, I saw a number of tracks around the base of my stand and made up my mind to go there again a couple more times before the season ended.
I go to my stand and see a chain hanging. I say to myself," Did someone try to steal my stand? Did someone booby trap it? " I climbed the ladder and carefully inspected every single nut, bolt and chain link.
It seems nothing had happened. So I climbed in and sat.
It wasn't long before the murmur of the northern forest would begin. It has a din of its own that is soothing to the soul. The sound of chickadees flittering about and perching in front of you. The sound of red squirrels digging through the detrius of the floor in search of food. The sound of a zephyr caressing your cheek as you peer northward in anticipation of a nice deer coming within range.
I heard a disproportionate amount of leaf movement to the left of me. I peered through the thick laurel jungle. One can capture specks of color and movement through this tangle, but rarely a full image of the animal in question.
I spied a flash of white. Initially I suspected that it to the tail of a deer. I ready the Black Diamond and sit tight. I soon see another flash of color. The color of an eastern coyote. They have an odd brownish tinge to them that is unmistakeable. I ready myself again. I search the laurels with the reticle of the Burris 2.5x scope and wait for him to come into a small opening .
Soon, the coyote is broadside to me. I place the crosshairs on its neck. The stand creaks and instantly he peers at me. I squeeze the trigger and the forest murmur is shattered with the launching of a Powerbelt . The white smoke clears and I see it trot off unharmed .
I cannot believe I missed. I am somewhat dismayed and disgusted with myself. How can I miss such a target at 50 or so yards?
Dad comes over and we circle the area in search of the coyote in case I did make a hit. No luck.
We decide to take off to Connecticut. It is the last day of the Nutmeg State's muzzleloader and so far, we have been having abnormally warm weather. We decided to pull the treestands at the little farm for the year . When we arrrived we joked a bit about the Grouse that Dad has adopted. We clear the cattle gate and I hear some drumming in the woods. Our little soldier is drumming in the laurel jungle.
We first bear right to my stand and begin to take it down. I tell Dad, " Hey. Our little friend is here to greet us." Sure enough, the grouse came to my stand and went under it. I sat in it for a while and watched it strut about the area. He still made his funny grouse noises and had flew up into some branches below me. I take my stand and ladder down and all the while the littel grouse was still a foot or two away from our feet.
We go to Dad's ladder stand and the same thing. He haunted us all the while we were there. We hope that the grouse survives and we see him next deer season. Maybe we'll take a quick stop over for turkey and see if he is still there.
All in all we had a great day minus the missed coyote.
comes closer and pretty soon it's pecking at the toes of my boots. Now if that deer was getting closer that grouse might have gone home for diner but I left it alone. Finally the deer moved off and never got a shot at it either. I'll never forget that ruffy though. It was really neet.
