indytechnerd
Master
Terrible day squirrel hunting today. I headed south about 3:15 and got out of the car at about 4:15....
First, my usual spot near Hindustan was occupied, or at least the little pull off area had 2 trucks in it. So, I headed on down Farr road, looking for a spot to step off into Morgan Monroe. About 3 miles and countless pulloffs later, I finally find one with a reasonable entry and no vehicle. I pulled in, loaded up my trusty model 60 (33yrs old this season), and head off into the woods. There's a decent ATV/access trail, so I stick to it, no reason to bushwhack if I don't have to. About 10 minutes into walking, I see a decent sized foxy putzing around maybe 20 yards in front of me. He hops up the trunk of a broken tree and pauses. I drew a bead on him and just as I pulled through the break, he slips around to the other side of the trunk. I see him drop to the ground, but I don't know if he's hit or just trying to GTFO. I trooped over to the tree and find the upper half of the tree is fallen over directly behind the trunk. He's not there, or at least not laying there like a good dead squirrel should be. Ok, chalk that one up to a miss.
I head deeper in for about another half hour or so, and it's a good day, no wind, not too hot or cold, and pretty damp ground so I'm not crunching leaves as I walk. I round a bend in the trail to see a big ol' fat foxy sitting on the laid over trunk of a downed tree. He lays down just as I see him, tail twitching. It's not the same one, this one was half again the size of the first. Again, I line up the shot and pull the trigger. I'm low, and hit the trunk of the tree. He freezes. Hurray! Without taking my eye off him, I adjust and fire, but I yanked the shot. This time, he books it outta there and is gone before I can get glass on him again. The tree was laid over about 6' off the ground, and as I walked up to it, I notice that both impacts are within a half inch of each other. Nice grouping, if not intentional.
Frustrated, I grab the sling on the rifle and swing it to put it back on my shoulder. Little did I know that the upper clasp of the sling has come loose (it's a GI sling). Cue the slow motion tip of the rifle backwards while I'm sliding my hand down the sling towards the butt of the gun. In slow motion, it pivots on the butt end sling attachment and sticks like a lawn dart into the soft ground at my feet. Now, my rifle stays on safe unless it's at my shoulder and I'm getting ready to shoot, so I wasn't too concerned with an AD/ND.
I picked it up, pulled the tube magazine rod and slid the few remaining rounds into my hand, then cycled the action to eject the one in the chamber. Locking the bolt back, I found a small stick to dig the dirt out of the muzzle, off the front sight, and in between the mag tube and barrel.
At that point, I said out loud to myself, "my day is done." I didn't want to take any risks of anything left in the barrel.
So, in summary, I took 3 shots and the only thing I plugged was the barrel of my gun.
First, my usual spot near Hindustan was occupied, or at least the little pull off area had 2 trucks in it. So, I headed on down Farr road, looking for a spot to step off into Morgan Monroe. About 3 miles and countless pulloffs later, I finally find one with a reasonable entry and no vehicle. I pulled in, loaded up my trusty model 60 (33yrs old this season), and head off into the woods. There's a decent ATV/access trail, so I stick to it, no reason to bushwhack if I don't have to. About 10 minutes into walking, I see a decent sized foxy putzing around maybe 20 yards in front of me. He hops up the trunk of a broken tree and pauses. I drew a bead on him and just as I pulled through the break, he slips around to the other side of the trunk. I see him drop to the ground, but I don't know if he's hit or just trying to GTFO. I trooped over to the tree and find the upper half of the tree is fallen over directly behind the trunk. He's not there, or at least not laying there like a good dead squirrel should be. Ok, chalk that one up to a miss.
I head deeper in for about another half hour or so, and it's a good day, no wind, not too hot or cold, and pretty damp ground so I'm not crunching leaves as I walk. I round a bend in the trail to see a big ol' fat foxy sitting on the laid over trunk of a downed tree. He lays down just as I see him, tail twitching. It's not the same one, this one was half again the size of the first. Again, I line up the shot and pull the trigger. I'm low, and hit the trunk of the tree. He freezes. Hurray! Without taking my eye off him, I adjust and fire, but I yanked the shot. This time, he books it outta there and is gone before I can get glass on him again. The tree was laid over about 6' off the ground, and as I walked up to it, I notice that both impacts are within a half inch of each other. Nice grouping, if not intentional.
Frustrated, I grab the sling on the rifle and swing it to put it back on my shoulder. Little did I know that the upper clasp of the sling has come loose (it's a GI sling). Cue the slow motion tip of the rifle backwards while I'm sliding my hand down the sling towards the butt of the gun. In slow motion, it pivots on the butt end sling attachment and sticks like a lawn dart into the soft ground at my feet. Now, my rifle stays on safe unless it's at my shoulder and I'm getting ready to shoot, so I wasn't too concerned with an AD/ND.
I picked it up, pulled the tube magazine rod and slid the few remaining rounds into my hand, then cycled the action to eject the one in the chamber. Locking the bolt back, I found a small stick to dig the dirt out of the muzzle, off the front sight, and in between the mag tube and barrel.
At that point, I said out loud to myself, "my day is done." I didn't want to take any risks of anything left in the barrel.
So, in summary, I took 3 shots and the only thing I plugged was the barrel of my gun.
