Out this evening with a mate who has Mondays off.
Not a fan of evening stalking as I am 'hard-wired' for mornings.
Point of fact I have already 'scored' today. A squirrel that was digging a hole in my garden big enough to bury a victim. He paid the utimate price and became number 137 in my tally against the Grey pest. Always conflicted with squirrels. Beautiful and clever things.
Anyhoo.
The plan is to meet at the Farm for 1830 hours. This seems way too late to me. I note that sunset today is 2049 hours - we need to crack on.
My mate opens up the Lodge and puts the kettle on...FFS. He will not be rushed.
By about 1915 hours we are ready to drive to our allotted seats. It is agreed that if he shoots a deer, I will sack it off and come and help him with the extraction. He is not long post-op for a new hip - although his recovery and progress has been impressive.
He peels off towards his seat, I am faced with a series of padlocked gates that delay me even further. I am always rushing to do nothing. Madness.
In spite of my frustration and impatience, I eventually arrive at my seat.
I have barely got myself settled when I get a text from my mate.
"Just shot a 4 pointer, now back at the car and en route to the larder".
I look at my watch. I reckon he has been 'live' for fifteen minutes. Bastard.
I check that he does not need a hand and then settle down to an evening by myself, wondering if Pizza Hut could deliver to my Seat?
Scanning with the binocular reveals a young immature Roe Doe. I watch as she feed down towards me.
My mind drifts back to the thought of pizza - Hawaiian or Meat Feast? My self-made ham sandwich is a poor substitute. It is quite hard to eat when you are sulking.
I continue to watch the young Doe.
By about 2000 hours, I am also scanning with the Thermal. This picks up a heat source which turns out to be a mature Roe Doe.
I watch as she feeds down the tree line, and then runs across the field crossing right to left. I manage to film her on my camera but cannot upload it for you to see.
I am forced to revert to what is occupying my every thought...toppings - pizza toppings. Christ I am so hungry.
Then suddenly, at about 2050 hours, out of the tree line a Buck. All thoughts of Pizza are gone.
I watch as he comes out of the woods and makes his way slowly down the field, slowly towards me. Slowly.
I look at him through the binocular and he is a nice looking fella.
I slowly move, slowly ever so slowly, to pick up the rifle, and position it so that I have a stable rest. Almost always impossible in seats that are quite frankly, more often than not poorly designed.
Looking at the Vorn hanging off the left-side of the seat, I consider using that as a rest. I have left that option too late.
Somehow I manage to manoeuvre my, not inconsiderable frame, into a corner of the seat and backrest. Anchored securely in position I am happy to take the neck shot that is presented to me. The beautiful Buck drops where he stands.
He will weigh in at 17kg dressed.
My mate's weighs in at 14kg dressed.
He is my first Buck of this season and whilst I am pleased to have taken him, I have lost my appetite.
It's odd. I always lose my appetite.
I will take his head to a friend in the week, and he will prepare the skull for me and in the fullness of time he will come to live in my 'Man Cave".
He is not a medal but he is a memory.
Just another couple of reasons I am not a fan of evening outings.
The gralloch and larder work is normally done my torch light.
The cleaning of the kit will have to wait until the morning.
No biggie in the scheme of things, but just another reason I prefer the mornings.
Not a fan of evening stalking as I am 'hard-wired' for mornings.
Point of fact I have already 'scored' today. A squirrel that was digging a hole in my garden big enough to bury a victim. He paid the utimate price and became number 137 in my tally against the Grey pest. Always conflicted with squirrels. Beautiful and clever things.
Anyhoo.
The plan is to meet at the Farm for 1830 hours. This seems way too late to me. I note that sunset today is 2049 hours - we need to crack on.
My mate opens up the Lodge and puts the kettle on...FFS. He will not be rushed.
By about 1915 hours we are ready to drive to our allotted seats. It is agreed that if he shoots a deer, I will sack it off and come and help him with the extraction. He is not long post-op for a new hip - although his recovery and progress has been impressive.
He peels off towards his seat, I am faced with a series of padlocked gates that delay me even further. I am always rushing to do nothing. Madness.
In spite of my frustration and impatience, I eventually arrive at my seat.
I have barely got myself settled when I get a text from my mate.
"Just shot a 4 pointer, now back at the car and en route to the larder".
I look at my watch. I reckon he has been 'live' for fifteen minutes. Bastard.
I check that he does not need a hand and then settle down to an evening by myself, wondering if Pizza Hut could deliver to my Seat?
Scanning with the binocular reveals a young immature Roe Doe. I watch as she feed down towards me.
My mind drifts back to the thought of pizza - Hawaiian or Meat Feast? My self-made ham sandwich is a poor substitute. It is quite hard to eat when you are sulking.
I continue to watch the young Doe.
By about 2000 hours, I am also scanning with the Thermal. This picks up a heat source which turns out to be a mature Roe Doe.
I watch as she feeds down the tree line, and then runs across the field crossing right to left. I manage to film her on my camera but cannot upload it for you to see.
I am forced to revert to what is occupying my every thought...toppings - pizza toppings. Christ I am so hungry.
Then suddenly, at about 2050 hours, out of the tree line a Buck. All thoughts of Pizza are gone.
I watch as he comes out of the woods and makes his way slowly down the field, slowly towards me. Slowly.
I look at him through the binocular and he is a nice looking fella.
I slowly move, slowly ever so slowly, to pick up the rifle, and position it so that I have a stable rest. Almost always impossible in seats that are quite frankly, more often than not poorly designed.
Looking at the Vorn hanging off the left-side of the seat, I consider using that as a rest. I have left that option too late.
Somehow I manage to manoeuvre my, not inconsiderable frame, into a corner of the seat and backrest. Anchored securely in position I am happy to take the neck shot that is presented to me. The beautiful Buck drops where he stands.
He will weigh in at 17kg dressed.
My mate's weighs in at 14kg dressed.
He is my first Buck of this season and whilst I am pleased to have taken him, I have lost my appetite.
It's odd. I always lose my appetite.
I will take his head to a friend in the week, and he will prepare the skull for me and in the fullness of time he will come to live in my 'Man Cave".
He is not a medal but he is a memory.
Just another couple of reasons I am not a fan of evening outings.
The gralloch and larder work is normally done my torch light.
The cleaning of the kit will have to wait until the morning.
No biggie in the scheme of things, but just another reason I prefer the mornings.
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