Lamping the night away December 2008

[Guest JohnGalway]

Tuesday December 16th

 

Well I was ever so slightly fed up, life, the Universe, all that jazz. Sometimes it just happens.

 

What had I to stay in for, I've a fine rifle in the safe, ammo, a good lamp and a fully charged battery. Time to head out and look for my good friend Charles. I'd been out was it last night or the night before that? I can't recall. I had three stands, did a bit of calling and the most exciting thing I saw was the neighbours horse. I kept the hill between myself and the remarkable moon that was rising. But, eventually it cleared the top of the hill and, well, time for home.

 

Tonight started out proper dark. Cloudy with occasional dirty showers, some hail, but mostly big determined drops riding on moderate but sometimes gusty wind.

 

Where to go. I think to myself it's a bit early in the season to blank where my sheep graze when they're not on the fenced farm, so I jump in the car and head off with my various bits and pieces. I decide to change my routine a bit and skip my usual early stands. I head on to an area I'd usually lamp later in the night. I've been out and about for a little bit, just see the odd sheep now and then, rise some woodcock I think?

 

I spot him first from across a stream, he's ambling down a rolling hill that has patches of rushes on it. At the bottom of the hill near the stream there's a path but the rushes are thicker here. I pick out my shooting position and get comfortable. Weaving in and out of stands of rushes my friend makes his way down towards a ford across the stream. It's a bit unfair I know where he's going but that's how it is. I pick a spot in my mind, if he stops there I'll send him to foxy heaven. He doesn't, he makes his way down near the ford and something catches his attention, he looks away from me and back up the hill. I'm thinking second fox but I can't exactly check right now. I squeeze off a shot, the rifle jumps and the boom of the gasses driving the bullet on is beautifully muted by the Peltor SportTac ear defenders.

 

I see my fox drop... and then bite himself...

 

Up he gets and away into the rushes. * Note at end of post.

 

I look for a good long time. But it's dark, he could be lying dead three feet from me in this jungle and I'd not see him. Unfortunately no dog available this time. Since I can't pick him up, I can't count him. But I am certain he's K.I.A. in that stand of rushes.

 

On the spur of the moment, since I'm nearby, I'm geared up and walking along a river. The majority of the time I don't see anything here, but sometimes I do and they present nice shots as the fox always assumes it's safe with so much water between us, almost 100 yards across in places.

 

Tonight must be a lucky night. I spy a lovely set of eyes coming around a corner on the far bank. I watch the fox for a time as it closes the distance, totally unworried about the lamp. When foxy passes me on the far side I must take my shot, the river widens even more at this point and my fox will soon be into some tall withered grass.

 

I give a little bark to stop Charles, quick look, the rifle jumps as the bullet crosses the water and my fox is dead before hearing the boom. Call it roughly 100 yards. I didn't go to pick up as it's a long way out of my way tonight. I'll go tomorrow when I've some time.

 

 

My next stop is a new bit of permission I picked up this month. As usual it was quite accidental, a conversation had in the local mart. We got to talking about foxes (try and stop me) and I got the invite to "sort mine out before lambing if you've time". Let me check my diary...

 

I parked up on an old track and spotted a fox straight away! He was a couple of hundred yards off at least, but not in clear view due to yet more rushes - we're truly blessed. The wind had gotten up quite a bit by the time I reached this area, and luckily it was blowing roughly from the fox to me. There was a brilliant hill for shooting from. I had been warned though, it's grazed tight and might be a little slippery...

 

After ripping the crotch of my waterproof trousers I crossed a sheep and barbed wire fence, crossed a drain and made my way along the hill to overlook the area the fox was mooching around in. He's slowly making his way towards me, ambling up along side a drain. Plenty of rushes around him but there's a lovely little clearing too with nice green grass (remember that stuff Danny?). I let him get about one third to a half way

through it, then he stops of his own accord to sniff something. Squeezing the Jewell trigger gently there's another muffled boom and my fox drops. I think he was just over the hundred yard mark. A well fed fox indeed.

 

 

So I'm lying there, and I carefully mark the spot the fox fell. You'd think that's the hard bit over now, right? Hah! I've got to go pick him up, and I'm looking down a very steep, wet, bare hill. Remember the slippery bit folks? Well I successfully navigated that slope on my arse once my heels had slid from under me. A timely reminder not to rely on your guns safety catch. I cross another fence, and another drain, take the required mug shot and happily make my way back to the car.

 

I cross the first fence - again making a hole in the water proofs !! One quick sweep of the lamp before I go and... Eh? Another fox! Heading for the body of the one I've just shot. For the third time tonight I cross the fence and, yeah you know the next bit. Slip and slide my way quickly to my first shooting position. This one's about 30 yards farther out and a little bit more cautious, maybe she heard the first shot? I'm using the amber filter on my Striker tonight, and I have to say I'm getting along with it really well. It does cut down the range a little but the foxes seem to like it and don't mind doing a bit of staring. This one is in thick rushes. She's not easy to see until she sits up on a little bump in the field and emerges from Rushville. I put the Nightforces crosshairs on the left hand side of her chest to account for any wind drift. A little pressure on the trigger and as Mr Hornady proves again, accurate, deadly, dependable. The vixen crumples into a heap and slides down off that bump.

 

Oh Fuckit, I've to go down that hill again.

 

This time isn't so bad. I just stumble a bit near the end and manage to handle it with a little run. Over the fence, across the drain and I find my fox relatively easy for the ground she's in. I haul her up and lay her down next to the dog fox. I dread to think how I'd manage to find her if this was flatter land. Nice little vixen, call it 130 yards.

 

 

So, off up the hill again. Ah, no, I won't make the mistake twice. I sweep the amber beam carefully over the field once more, then I cross the shredder, sorry, fence.

 

Just about to put my gear away to head off home and I happen to sweep the land the far side of the track. I hadn't expected anything here as it's a lot higher and difficult to see much of it from where I was standing. Bloody hell, here's another fox! This one is bouncing along, a lot of speed, maybe a mate on it's mind. I scramble up the hill after crossing a much more agreeable fence. My fox isn't far away when I get there - out of breath. The phrase "Cat on a hot tin roof" came to my mind. This animal just wasn't going to stay in any one spot for more than half a second.

 

The battery in my caller was dead, I'd not checked it before leaving the house. I did, however, have my Primos mouse squeaker. I gave it a few squeezes after trying in vain to get the fox in my scope. After a time the fox reappeared on a hillock a couple of hundred yards distant. I'd no sooner dropped to the ground when Charles was away on his toes yet again. Alright pal, you're going to win this one I think. I see him one more time and I don't even bother going prone. We'll meet again buddy.

 

I've caught my breath again by this time. I really am an unfit b*****d, too much time spent fondling buttons on this computer methinks. I sweep the lamp around the area I can see. From my vantage point I can see half of the field I had shot those two foxes in. I could not believe my eyes...

 

There's a third fox in that field! As I'm looking he's entering it from the left. If he's heading for the two shot foxes I have a bit of a battle to get from where I am to a shooting spot. Off I go, slipping and sliding down this bare boggy hill. Please God, if I am to fall, please let my face take the impact not my stupidly expensive rifle...

 

Once again "shredder" takes it's toll, and this is at the low point I'm crossing it! Puffing and panting like, I only imagine, the Viagra trialists in a room full of... Let ye finish that one... I'm back on my favourite hill of the night. By the time I get there my fox has gone a different direction. He's a good 300+ yards away, following a small stream. Time to get "Mr. Squeaky" into action. Actually he's always in action, there's not a place I can put the damn thing where it won't squeak from time to time.

 

I give it my best mouse wishing to be eaten impression. Well, what do you know, we have a biter folks. I keep the lamps beam well off this one. He's got a bit of walking to do yet and I don't want to spook him. Every now and then I get a flash of eyes as he passes through gaps in the rushes. He's also going to avoid the two dead foxes, which suits me just fine, and continues to slowly make his way right to left across me trying to get down wind. I slightly change where I'll shoot from, I've to extend the bipod legs since the hill is now going away from me.

 

All of a sudden, after what must have been a particularly good and tasty sounding squeak he decides to close the gap a bit. Thump, thump, thump goes my heart. Now I get a bit cocky. Once he gets to within say two hundred yards I keep the amber beam on him. And he notices it. I get lucky, instead of him doing a runner he decides to take a more concealed careful approach through thicker cover instead of crossing some open bits of ground which made up the shorter route to me. He emerges from the rushes and meets a drain, turning side on to find a favourable crossing I seize the opportunity and shout to stop him. He looks, I fire, and that's number four in tonight's bag! Farmer will have a nice surprise in the morning seeing my hat trick of foxes on my debut there! The hill gets me good this time. I lose my footing completely, I've a split second decision to make, either land with all my fourteen stone weight on top of my rifle OR take off at a run and hope to God I don't go arse over elbow. I go for the sprint. It's not easy to run faster than you've done in a hell of a long time, in waterproofs, in muckboots, on ground that's steep and slippery as a bottle, with a rifle and bloody battery pack. I'm flat out by the bottom of the hill but still can't stop and have to navigate some ankle killing rocks at speed, if I'd stopped earlier I'd have left a skidmark for about forty yards and ended up arse over elbow in a drain/barbed wire fence/rocks - take your pick!

 

 

 

I'm defiantly going home now. Well maybe I'll just lamp some handy local farmers fields, and on maybe take the old track up in front of the hill, then I'll go home, I swear!

 

No sightings in the handy fields, usually a decent spot. Near where Sounder, Danny and I had our last sighting of their night up here. I never thought of taking ye up that old track but it was fairly late by that time anyway. Away up I go. Rise a few more birds, hear a brace of ducks off in the night somewhere.

 

Here in Connemara we have a lot of certain things, all decidedly useless. Water, bog, rock, rushes, gorse. This particular area is bog central, and with every decent bog comes an amount of squelching. As long as I keep on the track I can move quietly enough. But leave it and by God something, somehow, will give you away. Thankfully though that breeze is still blowing. I spy a suspicious eye well out on the bog. Honestly, I'm thinking it's a sheep looking at me funny. You lookin' at me wooly?

 

Seems I'm not finished as I find my feet leaving the track. It looks like there's just withered grass between me and a hillock I need to get to, but between that grass and the ground - if you can call it that - is an inch of water! Squelch, slob, squick, splash. And this is being quiet. I get to my hill and oh yeah, we have Klingons on the starboard bow Jim.

 

I'm creep up the hillock, there's a rock I can shoot from not ten yards distant. Just stay where you are foxy, no ones going to hurt you...

 

Ah, come on! Just as I go prone, she's gone.

 

After a few minutes I find out she's gone uphill to attempt to get down wind of me. This suits perfectly, uphill there's a wide flat marsh, downhill there's a series of small hillocks, old cutaway bogs and gullies, if nothing else I can watch where she goes.

 

I move to the other side of my hillock, thinking I'll get a shot from there. When I get settled I have to stifle a laugh, she's just scared a hare minding it's own business shitless, he takes off like a rocket with the initial shock but doesn't go too far, sitting up and making his presence known. I give "Mr. Squeaky" a try and now have a cautious but interested fox circling me. About half way to being downwind off me I've done something wrong. I figure I showed her too much of the lamp and she copped something was not quite as it should be. I see her turn tail and head off for a hillock, if she reaches it she's gone because I can't cross this marsh in any manner that could be likened to stealth. I give her a quick shout, she turns broadside and I quickly adjust for the crosswind. It's over in an instant, the rifle jumps, the muffled boom, but I don't see my fox drop?

 

As I navigate the marsh after taking my time to mark the spot I last saw her I am quietly confident of a successful kill. I had lined a small hillock up with two dark rocks. I started my search. Twenty minutes later and still no fox. I'm anxious to find her now, I don't want the night to end on this note. After another ten minutes of retracing my steps, looking between rocks, checking out flats, and pondering I have to give in to the fact I may well have missed. I retrace things in my mind, it was a quick shot yeah, but I'd allowed enough for the wind, I hadn't placed the crosshairs too high on the fox to miss over it, I hadn't jerked the trigger, and all of my other shots tonight, with a possible question mark over the first had been good, so what's happened here?

 

I'm thinking all that as I start up the next hillock, flashing the lamp back in one last gasp hope and BINGO! I see the glint of an open eye in the grass about thirty yards from where I shot her. Very much deceased, another vixen. Call the initial shot around 180 yards.

 

 

So, not a bad night. My best so far on my own. Four picked up, one more I know exactly where it fell. That first one, well, I can't count it unless I find it, given the rushes there I don't hold out a lot of hope as I've no dog available to me in that spot, I know that fox is there, I just can't prove it! If I'd stayed on my happy shooting hill I could possibly have taken out that fast moving fox at distance, but hindsight is a wonderful thing and if we made all the right decisions all the time, well, there'd be nothing to learn for next time I guess.

 

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*I have noticed tonight, that some of the foxes have run on a little bit after bullet impact. I can't yet explain why. My bullet placement is usually pretty decent, I don't think I pulled any shot tonight. This shooting business does give a person issues to ponder sometimes.

[SportingShooter 0]

Lazy Bugger :whistling:

[Guest JohnGalway]

Lazy Bugger

 

This comment won't look at all out of context now, will it?

[sounder 9]

well done john knocking up the numbers now they must of knowen i was up the last nite and went into hidding cheers sounder

 

p.s great write up enjoy that

[Guest JohnGalway]

We did pretty well on the sighting front when ye were up, ten I think wasn't it? Ok, we got three but considering where we met them I think we did pretty well I don't usually take so many at a time, but tonight some of them were just suicidal

[SNAP SHOT 194]

thats a bloody good night john, nice write up........

[SportingShooter 0]

Me? Out of context? Never! It's that question of .17 Magnums again John :whistling:

 

You did have a good night And the read was worth the wait

 

The one you can't find will be there, you'll smell him after a few days no doubt.

 

As for them running on a little bit after they've been shot, who knows? They could have been lamped last year and not shot at, but are still wary of the lamp, their adrenaline is at full pressure, they're bound to have enough muscle power to go those few yards until they drop.

 

Must say, Headshot ones don't go all that far.

 

Dare I say it, try a box of 50gr V-Max?

 

Awaiting the next report...............................

 

SS

[Mr_Logic 5]

John that's good going mate Sounds like you had a good workout up and down those hills, especially with that brute of a rifle you've got!

 

What ammo are you using at the mo?

[Guest JohnGalway]

Snap,

You're welcome down here anytime if you fancy a go at the Connemara foxes

 

SS,

I've not yet seen 50 grain factory produced Hornady rounds here. I've a supply of 55's in the safe, when the 40's run out I'll try them again. They didn't group as well as the 40's last time I tried but I'll see how they go on a calm day and go from there. As you know, I'm just not a fan of headshots, I have taken the odd one that way before but I much prefer shooting into the engine room, less to go wrong IMO.

 

ML,

I'm currently using 40 grain Hornady Vmax which are Moly coated. To be honest I'm knackered after last night

[SportingShooter 0]

Yep, I know you're not a fan, come to think of it, the majority of the headshots i've ever taken were out there with Sounder,

 

Above the front leg, back a bit, bang! Thats the normal run of things for me anyway.

 

SS

[Malt 379]

Great result John!

 

Thanks for sharing that, I'm sat here bored out of my head and that was an enjoyable way to kill 10 minutes or so!

[weejohn 3]

great write up john, why dont you have a moderator fitted to the rifle?

[Guest JohnGalway]

Thanks Malt I'll make the next one longer, you can save it up for a rainy day

 

great write up john, why dont you have a moderator fitted to the rifle?

 

Not got the funds for one at the moment John. I'm a bit wary of the application process for one over here as well, would you believe that Health & Safety (mine) isn't a good enough reason to have one. Different Superintendents react differently to people asking for them. Clivej recently got knocked back for one and he's got very good reasons for having one IMO. Backward thinking and backward laws

[weejohn 3]

thanks john, best thing about the mod is hearing the THUD after taking the shot.

[Guest JohnGalway]

I still can hear it with the electronic ear defenders. Thing is I don't always have them turned on!