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Made a 65 grain copper powder measure.
 
Deer Stalker. great book by fronteer scout Ben Arnold tells a story of burning himself out with a prarie fire started by his shotgun wadding when he shot dinner.
 
today i spent the morning shuffling around my work area "cleaning up". being the poster child for ADD i soon found my self punching patches for my .54's. that led to blending some bear grease with bee's wax. that lead to lubing said patches.
ADD struck again and i found myself strolling up an old logging trail to the most favorite spot on the whole mountain.
The Dark Forrest. This special place is a 50 acre Forrest adjacent to my property. it is landlocked by private property most of which is in game easements.
I have been in love with this patch of mountain for 30 years, but for various nefarious reasons haven't visited it in 4-5 years.
this patch has been untouched by may for 100 years. untouched by fire for longer. old growth cedar and larch make up the bulk of timber.
Birch and aspen are scattered about. the under story is clear with heather and moss growing in a couple meadows. 30 years ago i laid a water line to the stream that runs through.
several places one can sit on a moss covered rock and swear he sees wood fairies and unicorns flitting tree to tree.
the sun penetrates in so few places it is twilight all day.
over the last 30 years i have probably taken 25 whitetail from this special place.
i have had up close and personal encounters with sore headed bear more than once.
shot my first ElK in this wonderful place. watched my daughter shoot her first deer next to the creek.
Sat on a log with my older sister on her first deer hunt as 6 whitetail does emerged from a ground mist and played tag close enough that we could have touched them. Watched the wonder of the moment grow in sis's eyes until i thought she was going to cry!
we went home with 6 white tail does dancing in our memories and tags still in our pockets. couldn't have been richer.

today i sat in a burned out stump and dreamed of being 30 years younger. listened to the red squirrel cursing me for disturbing his midden. watched a pileated woodpecker carve a hole in a dead cedar tree big enough to stick both my fists in with room left over.
waited until the sun had stopped filtering through, you know that perfect time when deer start filtering down the trails.
Got up, looked at all those special places i will hold in my heart forever, and shuffled down the mountain.
marked it on a map for my wife, so she can spread my ashes there in that magic place.
 
had a 30 shot range session with the trapper pistol. it was windy. did not shoot as well as i should have. lots of sprinting getting ready for next weeks woods run and too many missed shots from not controlling my breathing. wind was gusty enough that it also made it difficult to hold the pistol steady. got home and clicked buy on a pietta 1858.. ooops..
 
Actually took my deer rifle to a covered range today. Intermittent pouring rain. Shot the .50 longrifle at 50 yds. from the bench. Of the 4 shots , had one flyer. My fault , and the rest were in a 4" circle. Good enough for the weather conditions. Had the range to myself , due to the crappy day.
 
Unpinned the barrel on my .50 Lancaster for an inspection. I like to do this about every three years or so. Found it in perfect shape once again so I applied new wax to both the channel and barrel underside. Re-pinned I applied a light coating of wax over everything, then rubbed it good with a clean cloth. It is very relaxing just cleaning a fine rifle by the fireplace!
Walk
 
chased some turkeys around for an hour. if i could just fly.:doh:
cast a few .600 balls with a bag mold i got in the mail yesterday.
went back out chasing grouse. brought 2 home for lunch. i enjoyed it more then they.
would have had three but somebody got into my bag and stole all my shot! they left the shot pouch but it was empty. dug into the bottom of the bag and found about 220g of loose shot. got the second bird with that!
got home to the shop and found the missing shot on the bench. thieves must have had a change of heart. :oops:

put the shot into my bag.
punched out a good supply of over shot cards. put them in my bag. thieves won't leave me high and dry again.
punched out a supply of over shot wads. soaked them with bear oil and put them with the cards. inside a pill bottle.
using that bear oil i notice a trailing dog behind my from every house on the mountain. plenty of canines and not a brain cell between them that recognizes the rule. "you have to work to eat". not a bird dog among them. i miss my Labs.
I’d love to meet you someday Deerstalkert. I very much appreciate your sense of humor.
 
twenty shot practice session with the trapper. i moved my sights yesterday shooting in the rain. had to move them back today. running up the hill to the log landing kicks my butt. practiced with the hawk. have to clean and load blocks and cappers now...
 
Pre birthday range day today. Friwnd IA getting married tomorrow on it, so fun for me today.

My new to me .36 Leman came in yesterday. I got to put 3 balls through it. Unfortunately, I didn't realize till I was already at the range that my range rod won't work for it, and it has a smooth rod. I couldn't patch out the fouling.
 

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I’d love to meet you someday Deerstalkert. I very much appreciate your sense of humor.
thank you for the kind words. In this current world and at my current stage in life, i must maintain my humor! no one wants to see a old man sitting in a corner sobbing and wailing about things he can't control. who am i kidding, never could control much even when i was young, dumb and...................
besides life is a wonderful ride. staying in the saddle is what count's.
 
I just proved that i am a has been. Brother in law has two Walker treeing hounds. Dozer and i are a match. he lays by the fire and when you "Hunt em up" he thumps his tail and cracks one eye, grins and goes back to sleep.
His son Charlie is full of pee and vinegar and took off this afternoon following a bear scent. up the mountain. i got home from a trip to town and just wanted to lay down next to Dozer, thump my tail twice and take a nap. my dearest bride gave me that look that told me i was going to trail ole Charlie and bring him home safe and sound.
grabbed my Lyman GPR flintlock and stumbled my way up the mountain about a mile by game trail and about 1000 feet climb. when my breath finally caught up to me about 5 minutes after i blacked out waiting for it, and that roaring in my ears quit, I could hear Charlie telling the world that he had satan run up a tree.
i, not wanting anything to do with that fella no matter whether my .54 could put a fatal hole in whatever form he was possessing , started whistling and calling Charlie. followed his baying up the mountain another mile and he went silent. "well, Charlie i guess i will see you wherever you end up."
shouldered my Lyman and caught sight of a big red colored bear scaling a rock face a quarter mile above me.
stumbled on home and Charlie beat me there by 15 minutes. next time he better have some other backup. i am just too old for this kind of fun!
but that red bear would have been a great trophy with the Lyman.
 

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