Acquired an M12 Mauser in .270 recently, sold off all the stuff that came on it, fitted a rail rings and scope I already had spare, sighted it in with ammo from my Browning, sub moa, job done and took it hunting.
Hadn't been out for three weeks, was so happy to get out again I woke up an hr before my alarm, no way was I getting back to sleep, so extra early start it was, 4am and -5 at the truck, ouch!, peeled my sheet of carboard off the windscreen and off we go. A while later the road end appears and I say goodbye to the cosy warmth of the truck heater even colder this end, so a concrete pill it was, and get on with it!
A quarter moon provides usefull light in a cold and clear sky, on the easy bits was able to preserve night vision by switching to my red light, my mini instep crampons keeping me upright on the skiddy frozen rock and muddy bits. Was pleased about the brutal cold and clear conditions, knew even the bigger deer would stay bedded up and seek the sun when it arrived, so all I had to do was get a shift on and be in the right place when it did, sounds simple enough.......
Plan A........
The sun eventually turns up, that's me sitting on a hillside with a hot brew watching it creep across the hill opposite, suddenly, shit! we're on!, three hinds 500yds away having breakfast, down the hill I slither sliding around the matagouri and spaniards to close the distance, bloody hell, they're walking off toward the river faster than I can close the distance, bugger!, ok, plan b then, trudge back up the hill to retrieve my pack and finish my brew, I pick up my brew and look back down the hill, oh ffs! two hinds standing where I saw the first ones, and looking straight at me, no bloody chance, not at 500.
Plan B.....
The valley I was in bends around a corner and has some nice sheltered little gully suntraps with good soils for good tucker, so for now, in stroll along mode, enjoying the feel of the sun on my face, idly planning my approach when I got there, nek minute three hinds running up the hill and over the top, 300yds, offhand quick shot or nothing, nothing it was dammit, had a quick look behind me to see if I could spot Murphy laughing at me, but he was hiding behind a spaniard sniggering....... oh well carry on it is then. Sometime later I'm peeking around the corner into the big gully I intended to target and see two big stags high up on the hill, can't eat bone, but beggers don't do the choosing!. Took me an hr to climb the hill, paying attention to my map to make sure I got the height right before closing to the ridge to look for them, figured they would stay put and bed up as they were reasonably high, stay put they did, a little rocky outcrop down the other side offered a spot to shoot from if I could get to it, left my pack behind, being bright blue might not be helpful!. Managed to wriggle down to it, looked at the big fella and thought "not fk#ing carrying that"! but his sidekick looked more manageable, wrapped through my sling and lined him up off my elbows, had already ranged him at 250, so bang on zero it was, and so it was the 130gn Speer Hotcor arrived, solid thump and then all hell breaks loose! about a dozen hinds I had not seen below burst onto the hill, lost track of the stag, but he didn't turn up on the hill with them and the shot felt good, so I resisted the temptation to shoot one, waited for a bit with one up the spout, but all was quiet so back up the hill to get my pack and go find him.
The Mauser and the stag.
Cut him up, brew, early lunch, and stagger off lurching, sliding, falling on my arse and swearing my way down the hill, man was I pleased to gain level ground, if only for a while....had to set targets, make it to that point and dump the pack and do a brew, make it to the next point, dump the pack and have a jet plane, where's the bloody boy when you need him! Any excuse to stop for a break, so when I bumbled past a bloke sitting on the hillside overlooking a fallow spot with his little girl, I stopped off for a wee chat. Maybe I'm getting sentimental in my old age! but it was really cool to see the wee miss on a cold and darkening hillside, headlamp sitting on her head, hanging out with dad and happy to be there, made my day.
Enter the Murphy.......
Get back to the truck and I am knackered, pop the rifle on a nearby post and fish out the keys, unlock the truck, start her up, get the pack into the back and roll......... pretty tired and had a wee moment on the gravel road driving out, then came a burst of adrenaline and now I am wide awake! rifle is still on post, now 30 minutes away ! reckon Hadden Paddon might have struggled to hang on, got better luck than I deserved, it was exactly as I left it, no reason for it not to be, but logic is over rated sometimes.
Been a quiet day today, walked the pooches and sat on my arse ordering brews from the kitchen, life is good.
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