Foxyboy43
Well-Known Member
Having gone over to the not so dark side early last year I had all but forgotten the pleasure of daytime fox calling. To be fair the thermal spotter is nothing short of miraculous when it comes to night or for that matter even daytime but I still had a hankering for my old ways - tucked up in a hedgerow with only the back of my hand as the caller, standing stock still, bedecked in camo from head to toe and gloved hands in between, calling towards the cover and ready for anything that came my way….
Soooo this very morning I decided to go retro and try my old ways. I had to pick up some more Grower pellets to stock up for the poults coming this weekend anyhow (cancelled last weekend because of heavy rain) but when I got to the Seed Merchants - nada - “Friday and more like Monday sir”, Bugger!
Anyhoo - off to the shoot. First surprise was how long the rough grass was - anything fox-shaped would need a sodding periscope to find me and my chances of seeing one, even with the thermal are zero. Bugger, bugger!
The fallback - aka Plan B was to compare zeros on the sainted .222 and the .308 using the ever-reliable Utra and new Stalon - the POI on the triple deuce was pretty much spot on for both but the .308 had the Stalon grouping nicely but about an inch high at 1 o’clock - duly noted and filed in the maze of neurons that passes for my memory these days. Incidentally the Stalon was noticeably quieter but being lighter had a little more recoil - but nothing to worry about - three clicks down and one left - done deal! Then it rained and then it rained some more - a lot. Fortunately I was just putting the two rifles in the Jimny as it hit so how lucky was I?
Now on my way home I pass a small farm which has a very fox-productive mini-glen where I have shot many foxes over the years. Fortunately my passing by coincided with the rain stopping so how could I not give it a go? Five minutes later your camo-clad hero was installed against a hawthorn hedge and giving it his all impersonating a creature of some sort (probably alien) in final death throes; on and on I squeaked until my cheeks hurt (pause for SD schoolboy sniggers to subside) but even from my high vantage point overlooking many fields behind said glen there was nothing, simply nothing. Bugger, bugger, bugger! Then out of the corner of my left eye I detected movement, bloody rapid movement and coming fast straight at me. The fox, for fox it was had come at me from precisely where I was not looking and did a very personable impression of what I believe joyriders call “polos” about 15 feet from me then not surprisingly took to its heels back to from whence it came. Meanwhile your man was trying to pivot his quad sticks through 90 degrees, change the focus on the Pard 008P, hit the Record button, hit the On button because he had not hit Record after all, squeak demonically and try to find the rapidly disappearing fox before getting it into the scope picture……..
I confess I was lucky; said fox, once it had stopped laughing at your hero decided to come back to my herniated call and stood, literally on its tip-toes (I saw it doing it) to better watch me from about 40 yards away, just long enough for the cross hairs to traverse its chest and me to squeeze off a shot just as they were centred (ish). To my surprise the fox dropped in my sights which judging by the “whumppp” of the 50gns hitting it should not really have been such a surprise. Even better, in my haste to press as many buttons, though not necessarily in the right order, I actually managed to hit Record and capture the scene - on freeze frame foxes really do make a strange face when they are hit.
Chuffed to bits and quite pleased with myself I headed back home - I just knew day-time calling was worth a try…..
Soooo this very morning I decided to go retro and try my old ways. I had to pick up some more Grower pellets to stock up for the poults coming this weekend anyhow (cancelled last weekend because of heavy rain) but when I got to the Seed Merchants - nada - “Friday and more like Monday sir”, Bugger!
Anyhoo - off to the shoot. First surprise was how long the rough grass was - anything fox-shaped would need a sodding periscope to find me and my chances of seeing one, even with the thermal are zero. Bugger, bugger!
The fallback - aka Plan B was to compare zeros on the sainted .222 and the .308 using the ever-reliable Utra and new Stalon - the POI on the triple deuce was pretty much spot on for both but the .308 had the Stalon grouping nicely but about an inch high at 1 o’clock - duly noted and filed in the maze of neurons that passes for my memory these days. Incidentally the Stalon was noticeably quieter but being lighter had a little more recoil - but nothing to worry about - three clicks down and one left - done deal! Then it rained and then it rained some more - a lot. Fortunately I was just putting the two rifles in the Jimny as it hit so how lucky was I?
Now on my way home I pass a small farm which has a very fox-productive mini-glen where I have shot many foxes over the years. Fortunately my passing by coincided with the rain stopping so how could I not give it a go? Five minutes later your camo-clad hero was installed against a hawthorn hedge and giving it his all impersonating a creature of some sort (probably alien) in final death throes; on and on I squeaked until my cheeks hurt (pause for SD schoolboy sniggers to subside) but even from my high vantage point overlooking many fields behind said glen there was nothing, simply nothing. Bugger, bugger, bugger! Then out of the corner of my left eye I detected movement, bloody rapid movement and coming fast straight at me. The fox, for fox it was had come at me from precisely where I was not looking and did a very personable impression of what I believe joyriders call “polos” about 15 feet from me then not surprisingly took to its heels back to from whence it came. Meanwhile your man was trying to pivot his quad sticks through 90 degrees, change the focus on the Pard 008P, hit the Record button, hit the On button because he had not hit Record after all, squeak demonically and try to find the rapidly disappearing fox before getting it into the scope picture……..
I confess I was lucky; said fox, once it had stopped laughing at your hero decided to come back to my herniated call and stood, literally on its tip-toes (I saw it doing it) to better watch me from about 40 yards away, just long enough for the cross hairs to traverse its chest and me to squeeze off a shot just as they were centred (ish). To my surprise the fox dropped in my sights which judging by the “whumppp” of the 50gns hitting it should not really have been such a surprise. Even better, in my haste to press as many buttons, though not necessarily in the right order, I actually managed to hit Record and capture the scene - on freeze frame foxes really do make a strange face when they are hit.
Chuffed to bits and quite pleased with myself I headed back home - I just knew day-time calling was worth a try…..
, and well done . 
