Skitch
32 Cal
October 12 is opening day for Primitive weapons deer hunting in Georgia. While my TC Impact Vortex scoped, black plastic stocked, sabot shooting rifle is actually very modern, it qualifies as “primitive” by being a muzzle loader. I went to my main blind about 5 o’clock in the evening, and started trying to silently kill mosquitos, and catch up on the news on my phone. Just after 6 o’clock I noticed a good size deer had come up out of the creek bottom and was munching some corn that had been dispensed from the feeder.
Very slowly and carefully I brought the rifle up to rest on the window opening and eased the hammer back. I centered the cross hairs just behind where the shoulder meets the body and squeezed the trigger. I have to admit, being out of practice and a little excited, I rushed the shot and did not do a very good job with breath control and trigger squeeze. The gun went boom, a cloud of smoke blossomed blocking the view of everything including which way the deer went. I heard crashing through brush in the general direction of the creek. After reloading, I exited the blind and started looking for any blood sign, eventually finding a few drops but no defined trail. Meanwhile my wife Becky had heard the shot and texted me asking if she should bring the mule, (a Kawasaki), and Maxx, (the dog). I replied yes and they arrived 5 minutes later.
Maxx is a 90 pound yellow mix breed mutt from the pound. So far in the 5 years we have had him he has managed to do nothing useful except provide emotional support by allowing any willing person to pet his head. On the other hand, he has rolled the kitchen garbage can numerous times and eaten many loaves of bread purloined from the kitchen counter. He’ll chase a ball and is fascinated with fishing. His concept of fishing is once a fish is hooked, he should swim out and bring it back. Usually, he stages himself in 2 or 3 feet of water waiting for action. If one jumps and throws the hook, he will spend 5 minutes swimming around looking for it. However, he does seem to have a good nose, based on his adeptness at finding a ball in the bushes. Over the last few years, I had prepared him by having him find deer that I already had located. However, once he arrived the scene, he had his own agenda. I had a hard time getting him to take any interest in the blood drops. He had to sniff around, pee in the usual spots, and take a quick dip in the pond before getting down to business. Finally, I was able to call his attention to the blood drops, and he immediately headed down in the creek bottom and found the dead deer about 100 yards away in less than two minutes. Great job! He has ruined his run of unconditional love and uselessness.
The deer was a good size adult buck with a total of only 3 points. 1 on one side and two on the other. Must have been related to the unicorn, (one horn, one point), I shot a few years ago. The 250 grain Shockwave had hit 3 or 4 inches back from my intended spot. I hit the vitals but, a little more care and technique would have saved me allot of work if it had dropped on the spot from a better placed shot.
There was no getting the mule down to the deer through all the downed trees in the bottom left by hurricane Helene. I was faced with dragging the carcass through 100 yards of mud, over downed trees and up the embankment from the creek bottom. I grabbed it by the back legs and pulled it along 5 or 6 feet at a time. As I attempted to drag the deer one way, Maxx was trying to grab hold of it pull the other way. Cursing and yelling did not dissuade him, and I finally had to give him a not too gentle kick to the behind, which really hurt the big guy’s feelings. Finally, I got it up the embankment and across one more tree into the back of the mule. Whew!
Humans are the only great ape with well-defined hind quarters. The next day the soreness in that certain part of my body gave me great insight into what it is for. The ability to drag a carcass back to the safety of a communal campsite for sure provided a big advantage to our ancestors.
So, we got the deer back to the cabin and loaded in the truck, and I called the processor…. “We’re not opening until opening day, (modern gun), next Saturday. I ain’t got anything set-up and I just got back from the fair, we did the 100 mile garage sale. I’m beat. I am so sorry I can’t help you.” I called a few more processors in a 30 mile radius with the similar results.
My Dad was raised by a single mom after his dad died when he was two in Dayton, Ohio. He didn’t hunt and I didn’t kill my first deer until I was forty. I field dressed a deer once about 20 years ago, and I helped, actually watched, my buddy Danny expertly dress out a few but, I had never skinned out a deer myself. With no other choice, Becky and I gathered up the cordless power saw and all the sharp knives from the kitchen and got busy. My wife Becky is a country girl, whose father did hunt and raised cattle. While she didn’t have any direct experience either, she isn’t squeamish and is certainly game. We were not fast but, managed a good job skinning, gutting and beheading the buck on the ground under the barn flood light. Fortunately, I had a reasonably clean 55 gallon drum and we put the carcass in it with 80 pounds of ice from the twice as much machine.
Later in the week we deboned the deer on the table on the screened porch. Holding back the backstrap and tenderloins we turned the rest into some fantastic Italian sausage. That night we had backstrap medallions medium rare. So, good.
Overall, a great experience. Hard messy work but, something all meat eaters should experience. Hunting and processing game is part of what makes us humans. Since last week I now own a gambrell. Next time we will be better equipped and now be experienced.
Very slowly and carefully I brought the rifle up to rest on the window opening and eased the hammer back. I centered the cross hairs just behind where the shoulder meets the body and squeezed the trigger. I have to admit, being out of practice and a little excited, I rushed the shot and did not do a very good job with breath control and trigger squeeze. The gun went boom, a cloud of smoke blossomed blocking the view of everything including which way the deer went. I heard crashing through brush in the general direction of the creek. After reloading, I exited the blind and started looking for any blood sign, eventually finding a few drops but no defined trail. Meanwhile my wife Becky had heard the shot and texted me asking if she should bring the mule, (a Kawasaki), and Maxx, (the dog). I replied yes and they arrived 5 minutes later.
Maxx is a 90 pound yellow mix breed mutt from the pound. So far in the 5 years we have had him he has managed to do nothing useful except provide emotional support by allowing any willing person to pet his head. On the other hand, he has rolled the kitchen garbage can numerous times and eaten many loaves of bread purloined from the kitchen counter. He’ll chase a ball and is fascinated with fishing. His concept of fishing is once a fish is hooked, he should swim out and bring it back. Usually, he stages himself in 2 or 3 feet of water waiting for action. If one jumps and throws the hook, he will spend 5 minutes swimming around looking for it. However, he does seem to have a good nose, based on his adeptness at finding a ball in the bushes. Over the last few years, I had prepared him by having him find deer that I already had located. However, once he arrived the scene, he had his own agenda. I had a hard time getting him to take any interest in the blood drops. He had to sniff around, pee in the usual spots, and take a quick dip in the pond before getting down to business. Finally, I was able to call his attention to the blood drops, and he immediately headed down in the creek bottom and found the dead deer about 100 yards away in less than two minutes. Great job! He has ruined his run of unconditional love and uselessness.
The deer was a good size adult buck with a total of only 3 points. 1 on one side and two on the other. Must have been related to the unicorn, (one horn, one point), I shot a few years ago. The 250 grain Shockwave had hit 3 or 4 inches back from my intended spot. I hit the vitals but, a little more care and technique would have saved me allot of work if it had dropped on the spot from a better placed shot.
There was no getting the mule down to the deer through all the downed trees in the bottom left by hurricane Helene. I was faced with dragging the carcass through 100 yards of mud, over downed trees and up the embankment from the creek bottom. I grabbed it by the back legs and pulled it along 5 or 6 feet at a time. As I attempted to drag the deer one way, Maxx was trying to grab hold of it pull the other way. Cursing and yelling did not dissuade him, and I finally had to give him a not too gentle kick to the behind, which really hurt the big guy’s feelings. Finally, I got it up the embankment and across one more tree into the back of the mule. Whew!
Humans are the only great ape with well-defined hind quarters. The next day the soreness in that certain part of my body gave me great insight into what it is for. The ability to drag a carcass back to the safety of a communal campsite for sure provided a big advantage to our ancestors.
So, we got the deer back to the cabin and loaded in the truck, and I called the processor…. “We’re not opening until opening day, (modern gun), next Saturday. I ain’t got anything set-up and I just got back from the fair, we did the 100 mile garage sale. I’m beat. I am so sorry I can’t help you.” I called a few more processors in a 30 mile radius with the similar results.
My Dad was raised by a single mom after his dad died when he was two in Dayton, Ohio. He didn’t hunt and I didn’t kill my first deer until I was forty. I field dressed a deer once about 20 years ago, and I helped, actually watched, my buddy Danny expertly dress out a few but, I had never skinned out a deer myself. With no other choice, Becky and I gathered up the cordless power saw and all the sharp knives from the kitchen and got busy. My wife Becky is a country girl, whose father did hunt and raised cattle. While she didn’t have any direct experience either, she isn’t squeamish and is certainly game. We were not fast but, managed a good job skinning, gutting and beheading the buck on the ground under the barn flood light. Fortunately, I had a reasonably clean 55 gallon drum and we put the carcass in it with 80 pounds of ice from the twice as much machine.
Later in the week we deboned the deer on the table on the screened porch. Holding back the backstrap and tenderloins we turned the rest into some fantastic Italian sausage. That night we had backstrap medallions medium rare. So, good.
Overall, a great experience. Hard messy work but, something all meat eaters should experience. Hunting and processing game is part of what makes us humans. Since last week I now own a gambrell. Next time we will be better equipped and now be experienced.
