Originally Posted by wageslave
Originally Posted by DigitalDan
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Is she quoting the price to him?

I'm in.

P.S. afternoon jungle foray report?


Actually there is something to report.

I have a newish neighbor who purchased a really nice place from an older couple who me and Mrs. BD had known for a decade or two. Younger guy (which means less than 63) with a blond GF and one of those Malinois critters named Bear. He's the one I saw chitt in the woods the other day. Anyway, he's a shooter/hunter/archer and seemed like a good sort and he was interested in this pig thing I got going on. Being of the .300 mag persuasion he was a little skeptical about the merits of poppin' pigs with .22s, but after some discussion I realized he was up on anatomy and such, so I invited him to join me on a hunt.

I got several styles of "hunt", all of which get exercised from time to time. Still hunting (preferred), stand hunting (boring if I forget my I-Phone) and trapping (when I just want to kill chitt w/o getting sweaty). The object is to kill pigs as a first priority. Grillin' ain't far behind.

So's anyhoo, I brief this fella, get dressed for the ball and off we go. We were back in about 1/4 mile off the river on what passes for high country around here, that being the difference between standing in water and not, depending on tide phase. Got settled down where we could watch a low ridge and wide shallow gully, the ridge being about 15 yards in front of us. Wind was right, sun going down, and we'd been settled in for about 5 minutes when 5 hogs drifted thru the brush just far enough out we had no shot. He had my 10/22 and I was backing him up with the Savage 24.

It got real quiet for about 30 minutes and then a little football sized pig walked out in front of us. Mighta weighed 10#. Then comes another. Then comes momma. Jaysus H. KEErist this was a big fuggin' hog! Fat one too, mighta tripped the scales around 300#.

So I'm sitting there on my ass lookin' at her face over the barrel, and my pardner was doing the same thru the K2.5...perfect shot was there for the taking....waiting...wondering...breeze shifted ever so slightly and we were busted. Deep grunt and the old bitch whirled and was gone.

We sat there a little longer and two deer walked up,looked around a bit then wandered off. Smallish doe and a yearling. I snapped a pic just for giggles. My ass had gone to sleep by then.

Anyway, time to go and all that, I asked him if the palmetto fronds had obscured his view and he nodded. On the way out I clipped the offending fronds out of the way for the next time, thinking, "yeah, maybe, maybe not."

We got back to the truck and he made a comment that he sure woulda felt more comfy with his .243...and he needed to see this .22 RF thing work a time or three before he was really ready to embrace the idea. (That qualifies as a "maybe not", see the previous paragraph). This guy obviously has no Irish in the family background.

He was "shocked" at the amount of wildlife we saw. City folk...wow.... Good news is I didn't have to skin a hog last night. Better news is I got a date with that ol' bitch on my terms w/o the baggage. She might be fat enough to make bacon, and that is damn rare with wild pigs. HA! There will be blood!

Ooooh-Raaah!

BD

PS: That blond wench works for me...

I am..........disturbed.

Concerning the difference between man and the jackass: some observers hold that there isn't any. But this wrongs the jackass. -Twain