"When it comes to centralized national power, their fake money trumps your vote every time."
Tom Baugh
In context
Tuesday
Wednesday
Some pictures I took at Gettysburg this weekend
They found remains here as recently as 1997
Arkansas' monument shows its troops trampling someone. Now who do you reckon that is?
In these woods the 20th Maine defended Little Round Top against as many as five assaults by the 15th Alabama in the deepening twilight of July 2nd, 1863. The Alabama troops had been marching half the night and all day to get there; 26 miles in all. With no time allowed to even fill their canteens with water they were thrown into the fight. The Mainers had marched about 15 miles in the hours leading up the battle as well.
It's on this precise rock that Colonel William Oates, Alabama's Commander, says his own brother was killed during the assault. Colonel Joshua Chamberlain who commanded the 20th Maine says no, the Alabaman's never reached that far. The monument commission sided with Chamberlain. No monument was ever raised for the 15th Alabama on the spot of their struggle with the 20th Maine.
The Devils Den as seen from the top of Little Roundtop. That's 500 yards away! On the afternoon of the July 2nd, Confederate snipers likely hidden among the rocks there managed to shoot Brigader General Stephen Weed in the chest as he stood on Little Roundtop. Almost to prove the first shot was no fluke, only a few moments later Weed's artillery commander Lt. Charles Hazlett was leaning over his dying commander and was himself shot in the head. He died instantly and General Weed expired of his wounds later that night.
Read the sign placed at the scene and note how its author says the Confederates were "only 500 yards" away. I'd like to see that guy make a head shot with TODAYs rifles at 500 yards - under fire!
Here's the view from Devils Den looking up at Little Round Top.
Here's a view of The Wheatfield. By the end of the second days's fighting this 16 acre parcel of ground was covered in dead and dying. It changed hands between North and South about four times.
Across this 1000 yard stretch of open ground 15,000 Southerners advanced under heavy rifle and cannon fire. They broke through the line and advanced only a short distance before being repulsed. Less than half the men that when up that gentle incline ever came back down. The Copse of Trees in the center of the photograph was their goal. It became forever known as the Highwater Mark of the Confederacy.
Here's the same field but seen from the yankee perspective. This photo was taken the following morning and the weather had changed more to fit the somber nature of the place.
Deo Vindice
Labels:
Historical,
Personal remembrances,
The South
Misc meanderings while waiting on a flight
I spent the last couple of days in Washington DC on business. Words cannot express how uncomfortable it was for me to be here in the "belly of the beast"! Suffice it to say that I am pleased to be boarding my flight out of here this morning. Oh God just get me back to the Deep South where I belong!
While I wait to board, I thought to share a few of my experiences here.
Sat next to a thoroughly obnoxious NY lawyer at dinner on Monday night. At some point during the evening he felt it necessary to share his opinion of Southerners. Among the comments he made were:
"I think they must all wear coonskin caps"
"Slow talking ... Slow thinking"
"What a bunch of Hillbillies!"
Had it not been a guaranteed damper on my career, I would have punched the green-toothed bastard right on the mouth.
Part of my time up here included a tour of the Gettysburg battlefield. I stood at the so-called Highwater Mark where there is a memorial on the spot where General Armistead fell mortally wounded. This man died, along with thousands of other Confederates, to free himself from the domination of Imperial Washington. And some representative of Boobus Americanus had placed there a … wait for it … US flag! I removed that foul thing with extreme prejudice.
So my final thought for this morning: DC has gone the way of Miami. White, English speaking Americans are in extremely short supply here. This is an utterly foreign city! It is a picture of the future. The same Gooberment that believes it can serialize and track every individual round of ammunition manufactured, simultaneously insists that it's impossible to control immigration!
The years ahead are going to be very bleak indeed.
While I wait to board, I thought to share a few of my experiences here.
Sat next to a thoroughly obnoxious NY lawyer at dinner on Monday night. At some point during the evening he felt it necessary to share his opinion of Southerners. Among the comments he made were:
"I think they must all wear coonskin caps"
"Slow talking ... Slow thinking"
"What a bunch of Hillbillies!"
Had it not been a guaranteed damper on my career, I would have punched the green-toothed bastard right on the mouth.
Part of my time up here included a tour of the Gettysburg battlefield. I stood at the so-called Highwater Mark where there is a memorial on the spot where General Armistead fell mortally wounded. This man died, along with thousands of other Confederates, to free himself from the domination of Imperial Washington. And some representative of Boobus Americanus had placed there a … wait for it … US flag! I removed that foul thing with extreme prejudice.
So my final thought for this morning: DC has gone the way of Miami. White, English speaking Americans are in extremely short supply here. This is an utterly foreign city! It is a picture of the future. The same Gooberment that believes it can serialize and track every individual round of ammunition manufactured, simultaneously insists that it's impossible to control immigration!
The years ahead are going to be very bleak indeed.
Labels:
Historical,
Immigration,
Military,
Personal remembrances,
The South
Friday
Too Stupid to Breathe
Why is America becoming a tyranical police state? Because our dumb-asses WANT it that way!
Nineteen surveys which prove that much of America can't pour piss out of a boot!
Our goose is SO cooked.
Nineteen surveys which prove that much of America can't pour piss out of a boot!
Our goose is SO cooked.
Saturday
Can someone explain this to me?
So I'm doing a little family tree work right? And I find an ancestor who died at Camp Morton, a Union Prison Camp in Indianapolis, Indiana. During the War of Yankee Aggression there were over 1,700 Confederate POWs that died at Camp Morton. These men are buried at Crown Hill Cemetery.
A Wikipedia article tells us that this is "a number considerably lower than most Union Camps". Yet, between 1863 and June 1865, the camp's population saw an average of 50 deaths a month from disease, hunger, and exposure. Clearly Camp Morton was a horror.
Private James H. Eidson died there shortly after Christmas in 1864. He left behind a wife and as many as eight children who never learned of their father's specific fate. All they knew for sure was that he was sick when captured at Kennesaw Mountain. Beyond that he was simply never heard from again - as testified in the widow's pension application of 1891.
So you can imagine dear reader how pleased I was to find this man's final resting place.
What a nice place to wait for Judgment Day eh? But wait…
Look a little closer. What's that?
An American Flag? At the grave of 1700 Confederates?
There's another one!
Really? Is this appropriate? In what universe does this make sense?
I realize that everything Southern is now being castigated and denigrated, and the Confederate Flag is routinely attacked and vilified. Crapping on the South is the "in thing" these days. But placing the flag that these men FOUGHT AGAINST on their graves! Really?
Somehow if it were possible to talk to this particular ancestor of mine, I'll bet you anything that he'd take a dim view of his resting place being decorated with the US flag.
I have another ancestor who survived the Yankee invasion, but lost an eye at the Battle of Atlanta. But that still didn't remove him from the fight. However his leg was badly crushed a couple months before the surrender while riding a troop-train that derailed in eastern Alabama. Something tells me he wouldn't appreciate his grave being festooned with a US flag.
Lastly I have an ancestor killed at the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain. That man left behind a wife and nine children. That woman and her kids lived in a pine bark hut the winter of 1865. You put a Yankee flag on his grave and his corpse might just jump up and punch you right in the mouth!
These men fought for their country - Georgia. Their country was raped, pillaged and burned by the likes of this war criminal, and their descendants have all been programmed to love the Tyrant. I suppose the final insult of having a US flag waving over their grave was to be expected.
Here's my last word on the subject.
A Wikipedia article tells us that this is "a number considerably lower than most Union Camps". Yet, between 1863 and June 1865, the camp's population saw an average of 50 deaths a month from disease, hunger, and exposure. Clearly Camp Morton was a horror.
Private James H. Eidson died there shortly after Christmas in 1864. He left behind a wife and as many as eight children who never learned of their father's specific fate. All they knew for sure was that he was sick when captured at Kennesaw Mountain. Beyond that he was simply never heard from again - as testified in the widow's pension application of 1891.
So you can imagine dear reader how pleased I was to find this man's final resting place.
What a nice place to wait for Judgment Day eh? But wait…
Look a little closer. What's that?
An American Flag? At the grave of 1700 Confederates?
There's another one!
Really? Is this appropriate? In what universe does this make sense?
I realize that everything Southern is now being castigated and denigrated, and the Confederate Flag is routinely attacked and vilified. Crapping on the South is the "in thing" these days. But placing the flag that these men FOUGHT AGAINST on their graves! Really?
Somehow if it were possible to talk to this particular ancestor of mine, I'll bet you anything that he'd take a dim view of his resting place being decorated with the US flag.
I have another ancestor who survived the Yankee invasion, but lost an eye at the Battle of Atlanta. But that still didn't remove him from the fight. However his leg was badly crushed a couple months before the surrender while riding a troop-train that derailed in eastern Alabama. Something tells me he wouldn't appreciate his grave being festooned with a US flag.
Lastly I have an ancestor killed at the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain. That man left behind a wife and nine children. That woman and her kids lived in a pine bark hut the winter of 1865. You put a Yankee flag on his grave and his corpse might just jump up and punch you right in the mouth!
These men fought for their country - Georgia. Their country was raped, pillaged and burned by the likes of this war criminal, and their descendants have all been programmed to love the Tyrant. I suppose the final insult of having a US flag waving over their grave was to be expected.
Here's my last word on the subject.
Labels:
Historical,
Idiots in Action,
Military,
Politcal Correctness,
The South
Wednesday
Quote of the Day
I'm sure that by now you've heard the controversy over the rodeo clown appearing in an Obama mask at the Missouri state fair. How dare anyone actually lampoon a sitting president! Imagine that! And worst of all, how dare anyone make fun of our historic first "black" president! I hear the Fair announcer and the rodeo clown have been banned forever from the Missouri State Fair, and the hand wringing over the evils of racism will go on for days and days. [gag, puke]
Keep it firmly in mind that there is only ONE thing you need to consider about OWEBongo. Forget his policies, his ideology, his piss-poor record, his lack of accomplishments, his penchant for stumbling from scandal to scandal, his total incompetence. Just remember his SKIN COLOR. That's it. That's the ONLY thing that matters!
Anyhow… I could rant on all day about this manchurian candidate who rules over us like Napoleon. Here's a quote I stumbled over that really resonated with me to the point where I almost resonated my coffee all over the screen!
"Comparing Obama with a rodeo clown is a ridiculous assertion. A rodeo clown would have done his best to save those 4 cowboys in Benghazi."
Keep it firmly in mind that there is only ONE thing you need to consider about OWEBongo. Forget his policies, his ideology, his piss-poor record, his lack of accomplishments, his penchant for stumbling from scandal to scandal, his total incompetence. Just remember his SKIN COLOR. That's it. That's the ONLY thing that matters!
Anyhow… I could rant on all day about this manchurian candidate who rules over us like Napoleon. Here's a quote I stumbled over that really resonated with me to the point where I almost resonated my coffee all over the screen!
"Comparing Obama with a rodeo clown is a ridiculous assertion. A rodeo clown would have done his best to save those 4 cowboys in Benghazi."
Labels:
Media Dumbasses,
Obamanations,
Politcal Correctness,
Racism
It was already happening - within the first 50 years of the Republic
“I see, as you do, and with the deepest affliction, the rapid strides with which the federal branch of our government is advancing towards the usurpation of all the rights reserved to the States, and the consolidation in itself of all powers, foreign and domestic; and that, too, by constructions which, if legitimate, leave no limits to their power. Take together the decisions of the federal court, the doctrines of the President, and the misconstructions of the constitutional compact acted on by the legislature of the federal branch, and it is but too evident, that the three ruling branches of that department are in combination to strip their colleagues, the State authorities, of the powers reserved by them, and to exercise themselves all functions foreign and domestic.”
Thomas Jefferson - in a letter dated December 1825
Thomas Jefferson - in a letter dated December 1825
Labels:
Political theory,
Thomas said
Monday
All in the name of keeping you safe
As you watch this video, keep in mind that the cops are looking for ONE nineteen year-old who, while certainly dangerous, was no Rambo.
Notice there's no service of warrant.
Notice all the yelling and shouting orders at the residents of the home.
"Get your hands UP!" "Let's GO!" "Hurry UP!"
See them as they're frisked on further down the street.
Land of the brave and home of the free, indeed.
This entire mess was a dry run for coming martial law. If you can't accept that truth, then you're simply a fool. The empire is tightening its grip and your so-called "Rights" don't mean squat in the new Socialist AmeriKa.
After watching this - I'll take my chances with the terrorists thank you!
And the residents of Boston, the lickspittle little sheeple of Boston, thank the agents of the empire that crushes their very liberty beneath the boot.
Boston, 1775: "Come and take them!"
Boston, 2013: "They can give me a cavity search right now and I'd be perfectly happy."
Notice there's no service of warrant.
Notice all the yelling and shouting orders at the residents of the home.
"Get your hands UP!" "Let's GO!" "Hurry UP!"
See them as they're frisked on further down the street.
Land of the brave and home of the free, indeed.
This entire mess was a dry run for coming martial law. If you can't accept that truth, then you're simply a fool. The empire is tightening its grip and your so-called "Rights" don't mean squat in the new Socialist AmeriKa.
After watching this - I'll take my chances with the terrorists thank you!
And the residents of Boston, the lickspittle little sheeple of Boston, thank the agents of the empire that crushes their very liberty beneath the boot.
Boston, 1775: "Come and take them!"
Boston, 2013: "They can give me a cavity search right now and I'd be perfectly happy."
Labels:
Nanny State,
Police,
Socialism,
Terror
Saturday
Denninger absolutely gets it right here in this piece!
Go here and read this. Do it if you read nothing else this month.
When I consider that Boston, the cradle of the American Revolution, lately cowered in fear before the ham-handed acts of terrorists who should have been named Abbot and Costello.
When I consider that on the anniversary of the Shot Heard Round The World, the children of the men who fired that shot now crouch and cravenly lick the hand of GOOBERment agents who did thousands of times more damage to Boston than the Chechen bozos did.
When I consider the in-your-face evidence that the entire US Bill of Rights is now nothing more than propaganda to be taught to school children.
And as Mr. Denninger rightly points out, we are sending the message to the whole world that we are a nation of whimpering children who long for their Nanny.
… I am deeply saddened. America is dead and gone, and my children and grandchildren have inherited, NOT freedom, but slavery. We The Pansies have ceded our most precious birthright … LIBERTY… for tawdry trinkets of illusory safety!
Coming to your neighborhood soon…
Don't forget to say thank you to Nanny
When I consider that Boston, the cradle of the American Revolution, lately cowered in fear before the ham-handed acts of terrorists who should have been named Abbot and Costello.
When I consider that on the anniversary of the Shot Heard Round The World, the children of the men who fired that shot now crouch and cravenly lick the hand of GOOBERment agents who did thousands of times more damage to Boston than the Chechen bozos did.
When I consider the in-your-face evidence that the entire US Bill of Rights is now nothing more than propaganda to be taught to school children.
And as Mr. Denninger rightly points out, we are sending the message to the whole world that we are a nation of whimpering children who long for their Nanny.
… I am deeply saddened. America is dead and gone, and my children and grandchildren have inherited, NOT freedom, but slavery. We The Pansies have ceded our most precious birthright … LIBERTY… for tawdry trinkets of illusory safety!
Coming to your neighborhood soon…
Don't forget to say thank you to Nanny
Labels:
Current Events,
Idiots in Action,
Nanny State,
Police,
Socialism,
Terror
Friday
Tuesday
The Iron Lady kicked Socialist ass
This is what a leader looks and sounds like. I say that because it's been so long that America has been without leadership that we hardly know what real leadership looks like!
Labels:
Nanny State,
Socialism
Monday
Wednesday
Why there will always be tyrants
I see in the news that Venezuelan dictator Hugo Chavez has left the earth for his appointment with Satan. Only the willfully ignorant refuse to accept that the man was a tyrant.
I've read some of the comments being published by the propaganda ... err... the press, and one in particular caught my eye:
"He was our father..." said Carlos Perez, a municipal worker (recipient of a government check).
So long as there exists the view that government can serve the role of a father, there will be people who are content to be treated as children. So long as there are people who crave their neighbor's substance, there will be the politician willing to take from Peter to give to Paul - at gunpoint if need be.
I've read some of the comments being published by the propaganda ... err... the press, and one in particular caught my eye:
"He was our father..." said Carlos Perez, a municipal worker (recipient of a government check).
So long as there exists the view that government can serve the role of a father, there will be people who are content to be treated as children. So long as there are people who crave their neighbor's substance, there will be the politician willing to take from Peter to give to Paul - at gunpoint if need be.
Tuesday
This is hilarious
Take careful notice how OBiden says that a shotgun is easier to shoot and easier to aim than an AR-15.
On another note entirely, WHAT is that androgynous thing that's interviewing him? I truly cannot tell if that is a sissy man, or woman dressed to look like a man.
Labels:
Humorous,
Nanny State,
Rotten Politicians,
Second Amendment,
Shooting
Sunday
Fred says it perfectly: No one is EVER going to be left alone again!
Here's an excerpt, but be sure to read the whole damn thing - and mourn for what we've lost.
"A different America, a different culture. We really were free. You could
come out of the house on a summer morning and let the dogs run loose in the
fields, nobody ever having heard of a dog license. You could change the oil in
your car or rewire your basement without the county meddling. You could shoot
varmints eating your garden and no one cared. The government left you alone.
This is not an unimportant part of the dispute over guns—wanting to be left
alone. Nobody in America, ever again, is going to be left alone. Not ever."
Labels:
Nanny State,
Political theory,
Resistance,
Second Amendment
Friday
This "man" gave up his guns, and provides yet another example of the metrosexual male this country produces today
I have a strong stomach, but this assclown's tale (if it's to be believed) made me want to retch. To be honest, I couldn't finish reading it.
Why I gave up my guns
Why I gave up my guns
"I’m a New Yorker
born-and-bred, and unlike the just under half of all Americans who keep guns in
their homes, I didn’t grow up with firearms."
AND THESE PEOPLE WANT YOU TO DISARM ALONG WITH THEM!
Thursday
This video NEEDS to go viral!
I bet the politicians in that chamber were squirming in their seats as he spoke.
Wednesday
Hey conservatives - standby to be sold out (again) by the GOP
The party of the dead elephant is NOT going to defend your 2A right to keep and bear arms. I predict here and now that private transfers of gun ownership, the proverbial "gun show loop hole", is about to become regulated by Leviathan.
WASHINGTON -- Ask a Senate Republican if he or she supports an assault weapons ban and you'll likely get a "no." But ask about tighter background checks -- one of a few items in President Barack Obama's gun violence package with a shot at passing Congress -- and you'll likely get a vague response about needing more information, if you get a response at all.
"Uh, I don't know what you mean," said Sen. James Inhofe (R-Okla.), who then ended the conversation by turning around and walking into a room where senators were having lunch, closing the door behind him.
"I need to have more details. I, you know, I just need -- you need to ask me after I've talked to our judiciary staff in our office," said Sen. Bob Corker (R-Tenn.), also heading to the Senate lunch. "I hate to respond just in the hallway, so I won't."
"I've got -- my wife's here. I'm sorry. I've gotta -- thanks," said Sen. John Barrasso (R-Wyo.).
Labels:
Current Events,
Rotten Politicians,
Second Amendment
Monday
Bambi gets revenge - the deer herd of Henry County strikes back
Well I spent the last weekend of Alabama deer season in a
tree stand in Henry County Alabama. In
fact I spent the entire day Saturday sitting in a climber 25 feet up a pine
tree overlooking a creek bottom. I got
settled in before daybreak and I didn’t climb down until dark.. I saw a total of five deer, including a small
six point chasing a doe. Just nothing I
wanted to hang on my wall – and my freezer is already full.
I started back home Sunday morning and had traveled no more
than half a mile before a MONSTER buck ran right out in front of my truck. If I hadn’t slammed on brakes I’d have hit
him! Whew. Close call number 1.
Twenty minutes later I spied lots of eyes off the side of
the road and I did the prudent thing and slowed down. Traveling at about 40 mph I passed the
largest gathering of deer I’ve ever seen in the wild. There was at least 25 does standing a tight
little cluster immediately beside the road.
I expected them to scatter in all directions – including right in front
of me – for some reason not a one of the moved as I passed by, except to swivel
theirs heads following my passing. I
even had time to lower my truck window and get an up close look. Whew.
Close call number 2.
Three’s the charm they say.
About a minute after passing the doe convention on the left side of the
road, I heard and felt a loud thud on the passenger side of my truck. I knew instantly what had to be the
cause. Glancing down into my driver’s
side mirror I could see a deer flying thru the air tumbling end over end and
crashing down into the ditch along the opposite side of the road. I pulled over and surveyed the damage.
Dents in the rear passenger door, a shattered topper
window, a smashed fender on my 4 wheeler, and the tailgate ramp torn loose from
it’s locking pins requiring that I actually tie the trailer tailgate in place
in order to drive.
I walked back the short distance to see about the deer – and
he (or she) was gone! Doubtless the
animal dragged itself off to die later.
What a frustrating way to close out the best hunting season
I’ve had in a quite awhile! Oh well.
I’m just glad the animal didn’t come thru my windshield and end up in my
lap.
Labels:
Hunting,
Personal remembrances
Wednesday
Monday
Deer hunting in Alabama
Standing beside my truck in the predawn darkness it had
seemed like there was little or no wind.
Now sitting in a ground blind atop a hilly clear cut I discovered that
there was indeed some wind, and it was utterly fickle about which way it was
going to blow. The worst time to hunt
from a ground blind is when the winds are variable. Deer have the most incredible sense of smell
you can imagine, and if even a whiff of your scent drifts their way, you can
forget any hope of them coming in your direction. I resolved to change my location, even though
the sun was already up.
Coming down off the hill very slowly, I watched as a doe ran
along just inside the treeline in front of me.
Moments later off to my left I saw two does being chased by what
appeared to be a coyote. Well they look
to be moving pretty good this morning I thought. Let’s hurry up and get into a tree stand and
get up high so as to mask my scent a little better. I stepped up the pace.
Thirty minutes later I was safely ensconced about twenty-five
feet up a pine tree on a completely different part of the property. Looking downhill over a partial clear cut I
could see a creek bottom out about 180 yards in front of me. Gaps in the foliage gave me a clear view into
the bottom in only a couple of spots.
Similar gaps on my right and left gave me a view into the mixed pine and
hardwood forest that flanked the clear cut I was overlooking.
Around 10:30 a.m. my hunting buddy texted me and asked if I
was ready to come down and head for the house.
“No… I think I’m going to stay up here until sunset” I replied. Why not? I had something to nibble on in my
pack and I had water and I was quite comfortable in my tree climber. Best to make the most of an Alabama deer hunt
I thought.
About an hour later I was looking into the woods off to my
right when I see a doe slowly making her way downhill and towards the bottom
out in front of me. I watched her through
my binoculars to see if she was alone – and she appeared to be. Even though this was supposed to be the rut
she looked to be in no particular hurry, and she also looked to be by
herself. Passing out of my view for the
moment as she headed down the hillside, I put down my binoculars and shouldered
my rifle. Although I had no intention of
shooting a doe, I still think it’s fun to put the crosshairs on them as a way
of “counting coup”. It allows me to
fantasize around the notion of “I could have had you if I wanted!”
Shifting in my seat a bit to give me a more natural point of
aim, I placed the crosshairs on the spot where I expected the deer to cross
into the creek bottom. And sure enough,
in a couple of minutes my doe stepped out precisely where I expected. Placing the crosshairs on her left shoulder I
could see her very plainly as she cranked her head around and scrutinized her
own back trail. Hmmm… is she being
followed? Careful to make no sudden
moves – even though the doe was about 180 yards way – I eased my rifle down and
took up the binoculars again and began glassing the area where I had first
spotted the traveling doe. In just about
a minute there appeared a big-bodied buck following the exact path previously
taken by the doe.
Hot damn!
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a buck in my
crosshairs. A succession of poor choices
for hunting properties, and not nearly enough time spent scouting or hunting
has left me “buckless” for more years that I care to reveal. So perhaps you will understand, if even a
little, the excitement of having an opportunity to drop a buck that was now
unfolding before me.
There is an old deer hunting rule that says once you make
the decision to shoot your buck, don’t look at the antlers anymore. If you do, you risk getting excited and
spoiling your shot. I had seen a shiny
main beam on the rack, and I had seen that he was a good size, so I made my
shoot decision and carefully looked no more at the rack. Knowing precisely where my animal would cross
in the gap down below, I put down my binoculars and picked up my rifle. I spent the moments while the buck was out of
my view getting situated and ready for the shot. The doe had passed out of sight somewhere
along the bottom so I placed my crosshairs on the same spot where she had
appeared just a couple of minutes before.
I had every expectation my trailing buck would show in the same spot. He did.
Unlike the doe who casually stepped from cover, the buck did
something unexpected. He bounded across
the gap and gave me no opportunity to take a point of aim and thus I had no
shot. In far less time than it takes to
tell about it, my buck disappeared into cover in the direction the doe had
gone. Curses! Damn the luck! Missed opportunities seemed to
be my hunting trademark. But nonetheless
I maintained my sight picture with the rifle and continued to watch the small
gap thru which my two deer had passed.
Only a moment went by and I heard a deer “blow” somewhere
down in the foliage along the creek.
This is usually behavior you expect when they’ve been startled or
frightened by a hunter, and not something I’ve ever witnessed them do in
reaction to another deer. With the wind
blowing steadily from the direction of the bottom up toward me, I knew there
was no way they had gotten my scent, so I kept my rifle pointed at the spot
where I had last seen the buck. I saw
the doe charge across the opening and apparently reverse her course of a few
minutes before and head back up the hill.
I remained steady on the gap. The
buck stepped out and moved to follow the doe.
This time he stopped as if pondering what he wanted to do. I placed the crosshairs on his shoulder and
squeezed the trigger. At precisely the
moment the trigger broke he stepped forward a bit and my point of aim was shifted
to his gut rather than his shoulder. But
the .270 erupted at 2850 fps and I clearly saw the animal stagger as the round
impacted about six inches left of where I would have preferred.
Away into the bottom the buck ran with a discernably odd
gait. I knew he was hit, I just hoped
very much that he wouldn’t be able to run very far. I waited at least ten minutes there in the
stand before trying to climb down. As
excited as I was it seemed prudent for safety’s sake that I regain my composure
somewhat before trying to climb down from the tall pine tree.
Thirty minutes later, now armed with a four-wheeler and
utility wagon, I was at the bottom of the hill, and it took me no more than
five minutes to find my buck. He had run
maybe 40 yards from where I shot him.
The bullet had hit him exactly where I had expected it would, and the
view back to the tree from where I fired made me really wish I had a
rangefinder with me to confirm the distance.
I believe it to have been about 180 yards, and obviously I was pleased
with the result.
The rack on the ole boy was a bit disappointing. But later at the processor we looked at the
teeth and the opinion of those folks was that the animal was a three year-old
deer. So what I had was a somewhat
anemic rack that would probably never have gotten any better regardless of how
long the deer would have lived. In essence this was a cull buck; one whose
genetics you don’t want perpetuated in the herd. Cull buck or no, I still had a wonderful
time. The morning had started off with
crappy winds, but here before me I had a good kill and the sweet memory of a
good overall hunt.
Alabama has one more weekend of deer season, and the late
rut in Henry County guarantees it will be exciting. You can bet your ass that GunRights4US will
be there!
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