Handgun Hunting Discussion

I wrote this back in May and forgot to post it.

 Hunting stories should include several things. These stories need a setting, characters, game and guns.

   To start with we need a setting. In this case Texas hill country will do nicely. Hill country is a special place. It has an understated beauty surrounded in mystique. It had been years since I had been there. After living in the land of Tennessee hills and hardwoods for over 40 years it was kind of a pleasant homecoming. After all, my first deer hunting experience was hunting in similar country in Southern New Mexico.  

     To be truthful it was all very familiar to me. I guess there will always be a part of me that is Texan. I lived in Texas twice. In fact I was nearly born there. I think Texas actually loaned its own features to other states. New Mexico is known as "The Land of Enchantment." While I certainly loved my time in New Mexico it is no more enchanting than its neighbor Texas. To feel this enchantment is simple. You simply fix a fresh pot of coffee and with cup in hand ease outside an hour before dawn and kick back in a yard chair. You look up at the night sky void of light pollution. Texas hill country night skies are special. There are billions of stars and the milky way looks like someone brushed it against its background. Add to this the background music of coyotes singing their song. The ghosts of the Comanche and the cowboys travel among mesquite and cactus. Yes it is truly an enchanted land. 

    Montana calls itself "Big Sky Country" and so it is. I have seen Montana’s sky. I agree it is quite big. Is it bigger than the Texas sky? No it's not. Once again Texas could easily hold the title just as well. On the drive out I remembered what it was like to see the huge expanse that is the Texas sky. While it is glorious at night it is impressive by day. I soon realized that the residents in Texas, to a large extent, don't appreciate what they have. It is obvious that the size of the sky is strictly a matter of observance but Texas is blessed to have a perfect place to make this observation.

     Nestled in this setting is an old ranch bunk house that served as camp. It is an old block building that resides miles from civilization. While they don’t know what the building was originally built for, it is built on the site of a house that once stood on the ranch. The porch of the old house now serves as a porch for the block building which is now the bunk house. While rustic, it is the model of efficiency. One room serves as the bedroom, kitchen and dining room. It has running water and an indoor bathroom with a shower that was a great asset after a day of hunting, shooting and conversations around the cooking fire. 

      Now the characters that are the backbone of the story are just as engrafted in Texas as the location of the story. We will start with our host. His name is Randy and my first impression of him was also the one that I left with. He is a Texas gentleman by every measure of the word. When I think of Texans I think of genuine realistic people. What brought us together is handgun hunting and he is one of the handgun hunters that give handgun hunting a good name. In our conversations I discovered more similarities than differences. One overwhelming topic in our conversations is the fact that we are content when we strap on a handgun and head out into our hunting grounds and even if we dont pull the trigger we are content. 

    The next character in the story is named Ryan. Once again no pretense about the man. Friendly and courteous and rightfully obsessed with handgun hunting. Truthfully there are few things as good to be obsessed with. Handgun hunting has a way settling in your bones unlike rifle, muzzleloader or bow hunting. Since there are less of us than the others, each handgun hunter is special. For the handgun hunters that have been at it for a while we realize that there is nothing to prove. In Ryan’s case handgun hunting seems to be somewhat spiritual. Not in a bad way and not as a crutch. It is more like a vice that actually does him good. If there were more people in the world like him the world would be a better place. 

     Next comes Trapr. I don’t know when I have enjoyed listening to conversation as much. Trapr has the same disease I do. There can never be enough guns in the stable. When we opened the gun cases up and viewed the short barreled wonders he had several that really caught my eye. It seems we have some of  the same taste in handguns. In the past he was a competition shooter and it spilled over into his handgun hunting. Loads of fun to shoot with. 

   Now we need game. In this case turkeys and hogs.

     Now we need a plot. How about 4 devoted handgun hunters out in the middle of hill country wasting ammo, telling stories and comparing notes on handgun hunting and life in general? That is exactly what we have here. While only one of us scored a critter, the camaraderie was great. Hearing different perspectives from approximately 130 years combined handgun hunting at one table was priceless. Of special note was learning how each of us got started handgun hunting. 

    I carried Skeeter Skelton's own .41 Magnum Redhawk that was given to him by Bill Ruger personally.  My intention was for everyone to shoot it. I feel sure that all of us enjoyed shooting a gun with such great history behind it. In fact I enjoyed shooting everyone’s guns. I got a kick out of watching everyone shoot my .450 Encore, especially on the 150 yard target. It really put a “whooping” on it. 

    As for my part hunting I always seemed to be turned the wrong way. I sat up on a water hole waiting for hogs one morning. They snuck up right behind me less than 25 feet before I heard them and there was no way I could get turned for a shot. One morning I had at least 30 turkeys gobbling before the sun even thought about rising. They grouped up and went directly behind me. I gave chase but to no avail. It didn’t take the fun out of it. I loved it. Another time there was a sounder of hogs that I could hear coming so I got up and made a stalk on them. I could see them but didn’t have a clear shot. They made it into a clearing and truthfully if I had been faster I could have killed two of them. I still had a ball though. So 2300 miles driving and no animal to show for it and I had such a good time I don’t regret a bit of it. 

   I have always found handgun hunting to be that way. If you have to kill something to have a good time you missed the point.