I kinda feel bad for him. That driveway really is kinda like the Beltway 'round about harvest time.
I hunt animals, wreck bikes, eat weird things,
drink good beer and bitch about society
for your entertainment pleasure.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Farmer problems
My second cousin was dodgin' heavy traffic on the ol' farm lane and had hisself a "whoopsie".
I kinda feel bad for him. That driveway really is kinda like the Beltway 'round about harvest time.
I kinda feel bad for him. That driveway really is kinda like the Beltway 'round about harvest time.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Reachin' out there
Took some time this past Sunday to ride out to the hills with Matt, Spanky and Schlongie to do some long range shootin'. Matt's family has a cabin in a fine little valley, and has two different ranges set up; one that goes to 300 yards, and another that reaches all the way out to 600. With Matt and Mike leavin' for their Wyoming vacation with Bear Track Outfitters in just a few short weeks, we decided to spend a few hours burnin' powder, punchin' paper and ringin' steel.
As expected, it was a damn good time with some good company. The 600-yard target wasn't set up, but by the time it was said and done, we'd put a whoopin' on the 12"x12" steel target at the 500-yard mark.
My only regret was that I didn't hit the 400-yard steel with my ol' Mosin Nagant. With the boys spottin' me, I sent over 20 shots whizzin' so damn close to that steel that I could practically taste it. Never did get it though, which gives me a reason to git my ass back out there sometime and give 'er another whirl.
We were treated to a helluva purty sunset as we were cleanin' up and gettin' ready to head home.
And we also saw this kickass spider on the way out of the cabin...
As expected, it was a damn good time with some good company. The 600-yard target wasn't set up, but by the time it was said and done, we'd put a whoopin' on the 12"x12" steel target at the 500-yard mark.
My only regret was that I didn't hit the 400-yard steel with my ol' Mosin Nagant. With the boys spottin' me, I sent over 20 shots whizzin' so damn close to that steel that I could practically taste it. Never did get it though, which gives me a reason to git my ass back out there sometime and give 'er another whirl.
 |
| I spent some time fondlin' Spanky's Soviet mistress... |
And we also saw this kickass spider on the way out of the cabin...
Monday, September 16, 2013
Committed
Bear with me... I'll git to the point right directly...
For the most part, waterfowl huntin' involves a lot of down time. When the birds are flyin' though, there's a lot goin' on.
You're callin'. Tryin' not to call too much, but call enough to keep 'em interested.
You're hidin', tryin' to "Git yer damn face down!!!" (ol' man quote since forever).
While you're keepin' yer damn face down, you're also tryin' to watch the show. Hard to do.
If one ain't established yet, you're tryin' to figure out who's gonna call the shot.
There's almost always a brief flurry of panic while you reassure yourself that you have shells in the gun.
Meanwhile, the birds are in the air, and they might come in, or they might decide to git lunch elsewhere.
So the birds are workin' there way around, and you're still not sure exactly what's gonna happen just yet. You're tryin' to abide by all of the above rules, doin' your best to keep your composure in the process. The guys on either side of ya are callin'. The birds are squawkin' all around ya. Sometimes it's calm, sometimes it's pandemonium. Then, all of the sudden, it happens. They commit.
Once they commit, it's like your body goes on auto-pilot. You grip your gun a little tighter, pick out the bird that's in your position to shoot, assessin' their speed so you can figure your lead out right. When Tater or Dad calls "Take 'em!", all Hell breaks loose for a few seconds.
But anyway, back to the point.
There's a moment that occurs just before the guns go bang. It's just a fleetin' moment, but it never leaves you disappointed.
That moment is the brief point in time when the birds stop dickin' around and decide that they've committed. Sometimes, it happens so quick that you almost miss it. But it's the best damn fleetin' moment in all of the huntin' world. It's the elation that happens between the anticipation and the auto-pilot. It's the moment that leaves ya wantin' more, and keeps me comin' back to the field time after time.
It's hard to describe, so I hope I explained that somewhat coherently.
For the most part, waterfowl huntin' involves a lot of down time. When the birds are flyin' though, there's a lot goin' on.
You're callin'. Tryin' not to call too much, but call enough to keep 'em interested.
You're hidin', tryin' to "Git yer damn face down!!!" (ol' man quote since forever).
While you're keepin' yer damn face down, you're also tryin' to watch the show. Hard to do.
If one ain't established yet, you're tryin' to figure out who's gonna call the shot.
There's almost always a brief flurry of panic while you reassure yourself that you have shells in the gun.
Meanwhile, the birds are in the air, and they might come in, or they might decide to git lunch elsewhere.
So the birds are workin' there way around, and you're still not sure exactly what's gonna happen just yet. You're tryin' to abide by all of the above rules, doin' your best to keep your composure in the process. The guys on either side of ya are callin'. The birds are squawkin' all around ya. Sometimes it's calm, sometimes it's pandemonium. Then, all of the sudden, it happens. They commit.
Once they commit, it's like your body goes on auto-pilot. You grip your gun a little tighter, pick out the bird that's in your position to shoot, assessin' their speed so you can figure your lead out right. When Tater or Dad calls "Take 'em!", all Hell breaks loose for a few seconds.
But anyway, back to the point.
There's a moment that occurs just before the guns go bang. It's just a fleetin' moment, but it never leaves you disappointed.
That moment is the brief point in time when the birds stop dickin' around and decide that they've committed. Sometimes, it happens so quick that you almost miss it. But it's the best damn fleetin' moment in all of the huntin' world. It's the elation that happens between the anticipation and the auto-pilot. It's the moment that leaves ya wantin' more, and keeps me comin' back to the field time after time.
It's hard to describe, so I hope I explained that somewhat coherently.
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Score three for the early season
I finally got to git out and do some goose huntin' yesterday mornin' with Tater. We didn't have a ton of action, but we saw a lot of birds, worked a few flocks, and managed to sit down a group of three. Dad finally pried his butt outta bed and joined us, but the birds were pretty much done movin' by then.
Definitely felt good to work the calls and line up the bead on some honkers. The corn is just startin' to go down in most places, so hopefully we'll find the "X" before the early season ends.
On a side note, Tater is now an official field staff member for Toxic Calls outta Idaho. Seein' he got his first goosin' action in this very field only four years ago, it's pretty impressive. He took to waterfowlin' like a duck to water (see what I did there?) He's got a real talent with a call and a passion for the sport, and I'm sure he'll work his way up the ladder accordingly.
Definitely felt good to work the calls and line up the bead on some honkers. The corn is just startin' to go down in most places, so hopefully we'll find the "X" before the early season ends.
On a side note, Tater is now an official field staff member for Toxic Calls outta Idaho. Seein' he got his first goosin' action in this very field only four years ago, it's pretty impressive. He took to waterfowlin' like a duck to water (see what I did there?) He's got a real talent with a call and a passion for the sport, and I'm sure he'll work his way up the ladder accordingly.
Iron Maiden - Raleigh, NC, 3 September, 2013
Now that I finally got my computer back, I can finally post some of the badassery that I caught on my camera in Raleigh the other week.
I'm not much of a concert afficianado, but the Time Warner Music Pavillion was a purty neat venue. We were tucked off to the side, but we were close to and had a good view of the stage. Our location also had the added bonus of bein' right along the walkway, which gave us a great view of the antics of the other concert-goers. I'm a people watcher, so I had a great time with that.
Megadeth was the opener for the show. They were decent, but I think they relied on their video screens a bit too much. Dave Mustaine sounded like shit (nothin' new there), but he can damn sure shred on that battleaxe of his. Like I said, it was a decent showin', but it just paled in comparison to what followed.
Iron Maiden got their start in '75, which means they've been rockin' faces off for almost forty years. Process that for a minute. The dudes are gettin' old.
That said, I have no frikkin' idea how they keep up that kind of energy for a two-hour set. Bruce Dickinson is on par with the Energizer Bunny with his insane vocal talent, endless wardrobe changes and in general runnin' around like a crazy bastard for the entire show. Steve Harris wasn't far behind, tearin' up his bass guitar and beltin' out every single word to every single song, even when he wasn't in front of a microphone.
They tore it up for a 14-song set, and a three-song encore. They even busted out a few songs I wasn't real familiar with, which was neat.
That said, I have no frikkin' idea how they keep up that kind of energy for a two-hour set. Bruce Dickinson is on par with the Energizer Bunny with his insane vocal talent, endless wardrobe changes and in general runnin' around like a crazy bastard for the entire show. Steve Harris wasn't far behind, tearin' up his bass guitar and beltin' out every single word to every single song, even when he wasn't in front of a microphone.
They tore it up for a 14-song set, and a three-song encore. They even busted out a few songs I wasn't real familiar with, which was neat.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Paracord call lanyard
It's a little hard to post regularly when one leaves their laptop a few towns away over the weekend. Reckon I'll take care of that when I head back that direction this weekend
But I digress...
I ain't been able to do any huntin' since last week, due to work and other such nonsense. I did, however, take a few nights this week to knock out a real call laynard for my duck and goose calls, after years of usin' nothin' more than a glorified shoelace.
I found a great sale on paracord over at Mr. Paracord a few weeks ago, so I had plenty to work with.
Not too shabby for my first attempt. I reckon I'll prolly try my hand at another one after I field test this one though.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Monday, September 2, 2013
Openin' Day
Of the early dove and goose seasons here in PA. It's the official start to the fall huntin' season, which means I get to spend lots of time in my happy places the next few months.
Aside from some embarrassin' whiffs, we're off to a good start thus far...
