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I've finally found a few minutes to write-up my most recent trip. I was thinking hard about heading back to BC to try a stunt cartridge on an elk hunt. However, I received an offer I couldn't refuse, from a great friend in Germany. So, I took to the air and went across the pond, to join up with our own Ready. He had guided me on a AK sheep hunt 2 years ago, and apparently was once again willing to tolerate my idiosyncrasies. (One of which, obviously, is snapping photos with my fat mouth full...)









After mailing over my credentials, and some passport photos, and a note from Mom, Ready had all my paperwork completed when I arrived. We began with a trip to the wurst stand, this being Germany, and all:









We then proceeded to the range to check zero on the Blaser R8 he was graciously providing, and to obtain certification from the resident Poobah that I wasn't an outright atrocious marksman.

I was most impressed with the facilities. They had a dining hall, a pro shop, and, of course, a bar. The shooting lanes had soundproofing panels on the walls and ceiling, and automated target holders. This Midwestern rube had never seen such a swank setup.







They even had a reminder of why I came over:








And so, after nearly 30 hours without sleep, I found myself in a shooting stand with my host. He'd arranged for permission with the local forester to hunt a honey hole not far from our quarters. Though we didn't score that evening, it was a great experience to be back on-stand.

The next morning found us in another stand, overlooking a couple of narrow shooting lanes. And two roe deer decided they wanted to be the ones to begin my hunt.









Not knowing roe deer from Adam, I was surprised to see that they very much resembled long-legged chihuahuas. Ready assured me, however, that they were indeed fine animals, and gave me a hearty, "Waidmannsheil!". I would come to hear the word many a time over the next week.

We brought the roe deer livers home, and took them directly to the skillet, where they made for a hearty breakfast.









In what seemed like no time at all, we were back in the stand for the evening hunt, where yet another roe deer presented itself:



[img]http://i225.photobucket.com/albums/dd77/jkubesch/IMG_4478_zps2e89698d.jpg[/img]



In the 25 minutes it took us to slink out of the stand and recover her, a #^%$! fox had decided to have a nibble at the exit wound hole.


The next phase of the trip was to join a group of 20+ other hunters for a fallow deer cull hunt in a large forest nearly 2 hours away. The vast majority of said hunters were forest service folks, who proved-out many of my preconceived notions about Germans having exacting standards for EVERYTHING they do. We were briefed about the goals of the culling, and the order in which the animals should be taken: spikes first, followed by calves, then mature females if no calves were present. I would come to find that they judged the shot placement, distance run by the animal, and quality of the field dressing for each animal. While it brought a lot of pressure at first, I came to embrace the challenge.

We were shown to our shooting house:



[img]http://i225.photobucket.com/albums/dd77/jkubesch/IMG_4479_zps3dd88027.jpg[/img]




And the first deer came in seemingly no time at all:



[img]http://i225.photobucket.com/albums/dd77/jkubesch/IMG_4483_zps7f67a9cd.jpg[/img]





Over the next 2 days, Ready and I waylaid 8 fallow deer and 1 roe deer, and the cull netted nearly 100. After each hunt, the cooler looked like this:



[img]http://i225.photobucket.com/albums/dd77/jkubesch/IMG_4484_zps01413df5.jpg[/img]



... continued...

... continued from OP...

With 11 deer under my belt, I mentioned to Ready that I'd never taken a continental boar before, and would certainly welcome the opportunity. As an obliging host, he found one by taking me all the way across... the road in front of his house, to the corn field of the local farmer.

Here we joined a group of hunters who'd arranged to rid the farm of its crop-decimating pigs. We stationed ourselves at the edge of each stand of corn, facing outward, and watched warily for escaping pigs as the silage-cutter did its work. Surely enough, when the stand got narrow, a nice boar made a break for it a scant 30m in front of me.







Who knew a pedestrian .308 Win could actually kill stuff?


That evening, the farmer and the hunters invited us to share a liver feast.







They blew the hunting horn, and sang the hunting songs, then smeared me with swine blood. At this juncture, I pointedly asked Ready if any of the upcoming festivities might involve my anal sphincter, but he assured me I was OK.

As the guest of honor, I was expected to toast the group, and I was able to find something suitable from my homeland:








No, no ice. But since the Germans have a really good handle on the beer, I figured the best way to celebrate our two cultures was to introduce them to the Boilermaker.

I was asked by Ready's wife, what I would tell everyone back home about Germany. Here are a few random thoughts:

1) It's really quiet. I think I heard 1 car horn the whole trip.
2) It's really clean. At least all the parts I visited.
3) Everything is small. The cars, the refrigerators, the food portions, (and resultingly...) the waist lines, the trash cans, the toilets, the houses.
4) But they sure like horsepower in their hunting cartridges. .30-06 is favored, even for their chihuahua-sized deer. And 9.3x62 isn't considered overkill.
5) Everyone was exceptionally hospitable to this 'Merican. Or at least it seemed so: I don't speak a lick of German, so maybe they were trashing me the whole time. If so, they did it with a smile & a handshake, while offering me food & drink.








6) It wouldn't fly in America to pay for the right to hunt, and then pay to take the meat. I still don't get that.
7) I didn't see a cheap rifle or scope the whole trip. Perhaps Ready shielded me from the rednecks.
8) There were more than a few cracks made by the locals, about the NSA. I think they kept saying, "Obama", only to hear my loud groans & teeth-gnashing.
9) The parts of Germany I saw, could well have been Ohio. Back roads, corn fields, shooting stands, and Buckeye trees (or horse chestnut, if you will).
10) Hunting seems to be well-accepted by the general population, but the idea of widespread gun ownership scares the [fecal material] out of them.
11) And call me immature, but I laughed hysterically at their trailer hitches:








In sum, an amazing hunt. Still, it paled by far in comparison to the hospitality shown by Ready, his family, his wife's family, his Forrester (Forst-er?) posse, the farmer, and everyone else I met.

And rumor has it they even have cull hunts for boars in certain areas. I'm betting I'll be BACK!

FC

I would love to do that sometime. You were posting as I typed. Great write up.

Congratulations on a great trip and thanks for sharing it with us.

Wow, that looks like a blast! Thanks for sharing.

What a cool trip and great writeup!! Congrats!!! It was interesting that their favored cartridge was the 30-06. Nice choice!

Eric

Eggsellent post! Thank you for this and that hitch is hilarious!

Very cool. Sounds like a good cultured hunt. Maybe one day.....

Great post on what would be a great time, would love to go to Germany also!

Long....way from Hamiltucky my friend! I would like to visit my people over there someday. Congrats

Great pictures and great story. Thanks GRF

Looks like a fantastic time! I'd love to hunt Europe someday.

Crazy Germans, they don't even use a 7mm or 8mm but a fricken 06? Well least they have hot women and good beer.

Congrats on the hunt and a great write up.

You guys should have seen him on the Autobahn Rasthof, realizing the "Pay up front" toilettes.

That and the hitch... good thing the hunting was done. He could not hold a rifle no more.

Thank you for the kind words, FC, and for gracing us with your participation.

Actually, I think I did see one or two 8x57's in use, but no 7x57. I suppose I should feel doubly ashamed for still gushing over a cartridge that even the Germans consider to be outdated. I heard Ready explaining our AK pics to a grizzled forester, who laughed heartily when Ready explained that a 7x57 was employed. The guy might have died in convulsions were Ready to have told him how slowly the bullet was traveling.










Pay toilets rob a man of his dignity, dammit!







I'm sorry, but how can you expect people to pay $.20 Euros to [urinate indoors], when there's a big line of bushes out front, in a poorly-lit area? I was about to demonstrate the New World tradition of public urination.

The culture is so refined in nearly all other ways - why on EARTH would they embrace pay toilets????

FC

'cause, inside, you get the coupon. Outside, you get a ticket.

I just discovered another picture that shows the scale of the Roe Chihuahuas a little better:






Petite li'l critters. Ready was not amused when I asked him for a handkerchief... to wipe the milk from their lips... Still, they were delicious. I'm not a liver eater, but their innards made for one tasty breakfast. No ketchup required!

FC

Missing that rifle, yet, btw?

It was not without its charms, for sure.

I think, however, that you might have made me a convert to your quick attach rings. It was awfully neat to see how we switched from the Hubble/Chandra model Zeiss in the Chihuahua pictures, to the diminutive Redfield 2-7x in the boar pictures, while maintaining perfect POA. Good stuff!

And next time, I shall bring a box of butt-out tools as gifts for the foresters.

FC

Great write up and hunt.