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The Hunter's Chronicles - Thursday 1st March 2012

Ever seen The Simpsons episode where Homer is sitting waiting for his gun and all sorts of targets drive past?

That was my day. Nearly.

Quick rewind.

Yesterday, glorious weather. Normally I've been going out lamping with mixed results, so I thought I'd try a change of tactics... I ended up scaring everything away, only catching flashes of white as the wabbits scarpered. I even got so desperate I crawled god knows how many yards stalking them only to fluff the shot. Twice. All in lovely sunshine.

As I've said before, the Great Airgun Hunter in the sky only gives when I need. He must've smiled.

I did however make a fair few mental notes of various telltale signs of wabbit activity. I always try to say it was a 'recce' to console myself after drawing a blank.

Today, whilst out for a walk around 15:10 with Mrs n tiddlywinks, I spied three rabbits basking in more glorious sunshine. They couldn't have given an arse about us. One sat barely 15 yards away, the other two maybe 25. The things you see without your rifle...
When I got home I was off! To repeat yesterdays performance. This time I tried static hunting. And learned I have neither the patience nor the luck. Whilst lying prone in the hedgerow 3 yes [u]3[/u] pheasants sauntered through my cross hairs. It pains me that this is no jest. I said to myself, "If he puts his head through my crosshairs he'll lose it", three times. Each time I decided against it. 1 because I only asked the owner if I could shoot rabbits, 2 I know the owners relatives breed them and organise shoots and 3 the field is overlooked by a property, if not the whole valley and 4, end of their season (although not if the previous 3 conditions didn't apply and I was hungry!) Not worth it.
I pretend I don't even like the taste of pheasant.

18:15 I gave up with the waning light and trudged home.

20:30 I saddled up the MkII TX200 with the Solarforce L2 Torch and red filter and tried again.

Arrived at the gate. First sweep, a reflection by the hedge to my left, resting on the gate I took an unhurried shot. She just lay flat on her side. Literally bowled over.
This 16 year old secondhand rifle has yet to fail me, and yet when I chronoed her she's only putting out a tired 10.6 ft/lbs, her stable mates a hearty 11.7ft/lbs. Go figure. I know she needs a service, I tell her I'll treat her to a vektor kit someday, but until I can save up my meagre income and muster the courage to rip her guts out, that day seems far away...

No pics i'm afraid. This one is for the imagination.


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