Success In The Field

Back at it. Forever and a day ago it seems I was hunting fox and cat squirrels with my dad, Mike. Our battle ground was the mosquito riddled swamps and beech ridges of Northern Louisiana. This is where I learned to hunt; to be quiet; to be sneaky and sly. These cagey squirrels aren’t your garden variety tree rat, pillaging the backyard bird feeders. Nope, the are educated; surviving the countless tribulations of the woods. So I was taught to walk slowly, stay alert, and look, really look. “And stop stepping on sticks!” A common phrase from my old man.

My goal this season has been and will be to leave my rifles at home. They have been relegated to the back of the safe. I was able to score a mid-week day off and my dad being newly retired was more than happy to join me on a beautiful October morning. Our plan was to walk the hardwoods through our property, trying to drum up the little bushy tail. My goal was to get just one shot at a squirrel. The morning was picturesque; 50 degrees and a slight fog with the sun piercing through the bright green beech and oak trees. Action started early with a target of opportunity, a wild pig under a deer feeder. A slow, smooth stalk within 25 yards and “thunk!” The quick shot proved only to sting the 75 pound boar. He was off and running squealling through the bush. What an exciting way to begin the squirrel hunt. At a snails pace, we slipped through the Louisiana jungle and more pigs rushed through toward me but not providing a shot. Man what a day so far! The woods were alive with the sounds of birds waking up. Then my ear perked up. Our first cat squirrel bark of the morning. To find the little tree-dwelling rodents in early October is like finding a needle in a stack of needles. They disappear only to give themselves away with a jump to another tree or the loud bark to break the silence. Dad and had reconvened and were on the tree. Being a Dad, he wanted me to shoot first. Finally locating the first squirrel of the morning, I steadied my aim and squeezed off my first shot. Miss. Smooth miss. Gathering myself, I sent another piece of Eley Target lead right into the furry critter and down he tumbled! My first squirrel with a handgun. A “woot woot” from my old man and my goal was achieved. Months of practice and anticipation culminated in a tiny critter bloodied in my squirrel sack. I went on to take one more that morning bringing the total to two. The joys of being a young kid squirrel hunting with my dad welled up in me and were like meeting an Old friend. Life gets busy. Too busy. I’m realizing that while growing up and starting a career and family of my own. For me, the kill is not what drives me. It’s the challenge, the practice, and the time spent with my dad, and one day my children. To this boy from the south, a squirrel hunt with a handgun just might rival the biggest bull elk or Cape Buffalo taken taken with a rifle. But that’s just me.

For this hunt I practiced a lot. Shooting my Ruger Mark III, suppressed so I could practice in the neighborhood (ssshhhh)

, adorned with an Ultradot. A great tool indeed.

Hope y’all enjoy as much as I have. Stay salty…Drew