Travis endured over 300 miles of icy roads to get here to go to my secret elk hunting spot. Megan road in the back of the Toyota with Pepper and Patton, so the dog could stay warm in the cab with Travis.
The idea was to use Travis's truck instead of mine to keep from abusing the privilege of the secret spot and getting my truck all bloody with his elk.
We saw elk at first light and I sent them on their way to the ridge where the elk were. He had his disgusting yellow stocked GFY 7mm-08 and a heavy Randall knife. I told him to take my 300 WBY and let Patton carry his GFY, but you can't tell Travis anything.
They got to the ridge where there were no less than 100 elk and followed them West as the elk slowly made their way in that direction. I could see both the elk and Travis with the spotter and watched him sneak within 80 yards more than once.
I never heard a shot, never saw an elk drop and eventually watched all the elk disappear into the timber. I got pictures of the ridge through my spotter and the Nikon Coolpix camera.
When he got back to the truck, he told me about his "gun malfunction" and how we could have taken my truck as there wasn't going to be any blood. Maybe tomorrow, we go to another secret spot called "Bob's Place." I can't wait to see what happens this time...
Typical Shrapnel organization. He's a nice guy and very generous (especially when it comes to Coca-Cola and advising people to use plastic-tipped bullets), but he could screw up super-sizing a McDonald's order. He's even made ME forget my ammo....
So what exactly was the nature of this "malfunction"? I'm sure Travis will be along shortly to fill us in on the details, but in meantime you could tell the story...and you know what they say about the truth getting in the way of a good story...
Well even though we get strong attachments to our firearms and give them endearing terms to describe their performance capabilities they are in fact still mechanical objects and can fail. Not the case this time though Travis's little darling has a personality and told him to GFY and so it was.... MM
I showed him more than 100 elk each morning and you would think he could shoot something with a plastic stock and fast twist, but you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink. I showed him another herd this morning and even then he couldn't find them with the binoculars...
First off, shrap has the art of one day/weekend hunting down to a science. We went to the spot well before sunup and started glassing as soon as we could. Spotted elk and checked wind. Shrap dumped mini-'flave and I off and then he went back to town to get the breakfast he wouldn't let us have before heading out.
Mini and myself headed up to the top where the elk were spotted. I'd say it was 1K' up. Wind in our face and moving west toward the elk we were more than a little confident the whole time. We check location of the herd by cresting the ridge on occasion and getting within line of sight. Then we'd creep back toward the edge of the timber and continue our creeping.
Got within 200yds and low crawled up to a shooting position. Everything with headgear moved away but the cows were in a huge ball of couldn't shoot. Chambered a round and waited a bit as I figured there would be a loner some time soon and I'd smoke it. Opportunity was aaaaalmost there, but the last straggler had another cow moving behind her so I held off. No big deal, they dropped down into a draw with a bunch of timber but the opposite side was clear and I figured they'd reappear. Ranged it quick and it was 300yds to the other side. Well within range of my incredible deadliness.
As luck would have it, I didn't have to wait. There was a cow bedded on the other side. I'd have to thread the needle through a clearing in the timber but she was only 200yds out. The luck o 'flave rang again. As luck would further have it, I was able to stand and use a tree as a support. This elk hunting schit was gettin' easier by the second and I laughed as I thought about all the fugging morons in this world that think it's difficult. Further proving that God loves me, the cow stood up, and gave me a perfect broadside. I let the breath out, smiled and squeezed the trigger. "Click."
"Fugg..." as I rack the bolt and am rewarded with a jam. 'WTF?' I look in the chamber and sure as schit there is a round in there. 'Why will it not fire? Why will it not extract?' 'Fugg it... who cares...try it again.' I close the bolt and hold just behind the shoulder of the still there stupid ass cow. "Click."
I drop down to a knee and move back. 'WTF could be causing this?' I look around for a stick long enough to run down the barrel and then a thought enters my mind. 'It won't extract and it won't fire because it's a 22-250 case!' I angle the gun so I can see the headstamp in the sunlight and sure as Gruff is gay, I see "250 Win" light up in the chamber of my 7-08. "FUGGG!!!!"
I don't despair because I have a long history of luck outweighing my habitual habits of being a slob and procrastinator. I dump the mag and grab the Leatherman and start tapping against the stock. Mean time I am glancing at the opening where I saw the cow. She's gone, but since Christ still loves 'flave there are about 6 cows standing on the clearing I'd originally hoped they show up on. As I repeatedly whisper "C*nt, fugg, Wish I bought a Sako..." etc. I look back at the cows and as I do I hear "tink." I look in the snow and there is a 22-250 cartridge laying in the snow. "HAHAAHA! Fugg yeah!" I whisper.
Down and back to a ridge so I can take the shot. Just as I low crawl to the rocks I was going to shoot over, the last cow disappears into the timber. I know my luck never runs out, so I wait. Sure as schit... three more elk. All bulls.
So on that note, I dropped a few more expletives, and walked back to my son who was observing the whole time. He never looked so proud to know I'm probably not his real dad. Then, we got the fugg out of there.
Tough break there Travis.. Probably happened to all of us.. But as someone mentioned, taking Shrapnel's .300 would not be a bad idea.. As pointed out it is a trained elk killer.. Every little bit helps.. Good luck..
Well, there are probably other guys who would need more than two days to tag a cow in Shrap's private elk park, but I doubt it.
My bet is the young Flave would have put the right load in the rig and put meat on the table, since he is too young to load the gun while being loaded.
First off, shrap has the art of one day/weekend hunting down to a science. We went to the spot well before sunup and started glassing as soon as we could. Spotted elk and checked wind. Shrap dumped mini-'flave and I off and then he went back to town to get the breakfast he wouldn't let us have before heading out.
Mini and myself headed up to the top where the elk were spotted. I'd say it was 1K' up. Wind in our face and moving west toward the elk we were more than a little confident the whole time. We check location of the herd by cresting the ridge on occasion and getting within line of sight. Then we'd creep back toward the edge of the timber and continue our creeping.
Got within 200yds and low crawled up to a shooting position. Everything with headgear moved away but the cows were in a huge ball of couldn't shoot. Chambered a round and waited a bit as I figured there would be a loner some time soon and I'd smoke it. Opportunity was aaaaalmost there, but the last straggler had another cow moving behind her so I held off. No big deal, they dropped down into a draw with a bunch of timber but the opposite side was clear and I figured they'd reappear. Ranged it quick and it was 300yds to the other side. Well within range of my incredible deadliness.
As luck would have it, I didn't have to wait. There was a cow bedded on the other side. I'd have to thread the needle through a clearing in the timber but she was only 200yds out. The luck o 'flave rang again. As luck would further have it, I was able to stand and use a tree as a support. This elk hunting schit was gettin' easier by the second and I laughed as I thought about all the fugging morons in this world that think it's difficult. Further proving that God loves me, the cow stood up, and gave me a perfect broadside. I let the breath out, smiled and squeezed the trigger. "Click."
"Fugg..." as I rack the bolt and am rewarded with a jam. 'WTF?' I look in the chamber and sure as schit there is a round in there. 'Why will it not fire? Why will it not extract?' 'Fugg it... who cares...try it again.' I close the bolt and hold just behind the shoulder of the still there stupid ass cow. "Click."
I drop down to a knee and move back. 'WTF could be causing this?' I look around for a stick long enough to run down the barrel and then a thought enters my mind. 'It won't extract and it won't fire because it's a 22-250 case!' I angle the gun so I can see the headstamp in the sunlight and sure as Gruff is gay, I see "250 Win" light up in the chamber of my 7-08. "FUGGG!!!!"
I don't despair because I have a long history of luck outweighing my habitual habits of being a slob and procrastinator. I dump the mag and grab the Leatherman and start tapping against the stock. Mean time I am glancing at the opening where I saw the cow. She's gone, but since Christ still loves 'flave there are about 6 cows standing on the clearing I'd originally hoped they show up on. As I repeatedly whisper "C*nt, fugg, Wish I bought a Sako..." etc. I look back at the cows and as I do I hear "tink." I look in the snow and there is a 22-250 cartridge laying in the snow. "HAHAAHA! Fugg yeah!" I whisper.
Down and back to a ridge so I can take the shot. Just as I low crawl to the rocks I was going to shoot over, the last cow disappears into the timber. I know my luck never runs out, so I wait. Sure as schit... three more elk. All bulls.
So on that note, I dropped a few more expletives, and walked back to my son who was observing the whole time. He never looked so proud to know I'm probably not his real dad. Then, we got the fugg out of there.
The End.
Travis
I'll pray for you tonight.
Side-note, figured you'd have a collapsable rod in your pack by now.
I was very kind to Travis and didn't pile on, when I could have. I had these elk spotted for over a week and kept an eye on them during that time. It is true, I went for breakfast at Val's Diner in Wilsall while Travis and Mini-flave were hiking, but there was no need for me to hike with 2 elk already under my belt this fall, and recovering from a severe leg injury.
I strongly urged Travis to take the 300 and Mini could pack the lighter and much inferior rifle, if you can call it that. You can't talk sense to someone who insists on fast twist and plastic. He opted for the GFY and 2 different cartridges, confident one would work.
I am watching all of this through a spotting scope and can see Travis and elk, both in the spotter. Watching the sneak, I was expecting a shot at any time and was hoping to see the elk drop in the scope. Neither happened and we broke radio silence. There were still at least 100 head of elk moving slowly East but Travis was used up. He said he was coming off the mountain with something of a gun malfunction.
I never said "I told you so" but I had a strong feeling that I should. Travis is something of a sensitive guy and after all the drama, I again exercised prudence and stayed calm and polite. Besides, we had tomorrow to do it again, and Val's is open for breakfast at 7:00.
Travis decided elk hunting was easier than he thought and didn't consider all the work I had put into this to make it happen for him. He told me that he was fine with a quick trip over on "Bob's place" in the morning and by then, he would be having Megan/Pepper withdrawals and opted for an early departure.
That was soon forgotten though, when we got to the motel and she wasn't there. I left him standing in the entryway of the Motel in 7 degree weather steaming at being left by his 2 girls. At least he wasn't cold...
I swear I can see a Wal-mart sign in the background...
Similar to Wisco, but we call them livestock...
Will there be a revenge tour?
HAHAAAHAHAA HAAAAA!! Whew. Thanks for that!
Travis, sorry to hear that you didn't get to mosey up a hill and pop an elk broadside at 200 with a tree to shoot from. I don't know what you would have called that, but I wouldn't have called it elk hunting. Now, pissing away that shot and watching the elk disappear with nary a shot fired, that sounds closer to elk hunting. I hope you were able to share some fun with your son though, and not teach him too many 'new' words.
Emotional scarring? Oh hell yeah! This was a disaster of epic proportions!!!! I will say Dave I have been there, and done that, so I can sympathize with you.
Well, not really. I can't even imagine choking this bad. It's embarrassing frankly, and in front of the boy no less. What will his friends say now? "Oh look, CHOKER JR!!!"
And for the record, fireforming brass doesn't work like that. What a rookie trick.
There were still at least 100 head of elk moving slowly East but Travis was used up. He said he was coming off the mountain with something of a gun malfunction.
I swear I can see a Wal-mart sign in the background...
Similar to Wisco, but we call them livestock...
Will there be a revenge tour?
All this criticism and still no one could see Travis is standing In front of a huge herd of elk and still can't see them. Try as I may to show them to him he was still looking off to the right of where they are all bunched up...
Travis could have killed any one of them at any time.... The preplanned ammo malfunction was the only thing giving the elk a chance of survival, otherwise their fate was sealed.....
First off, shrap has the art of one day/weekend hunting down to a science. We went to the spot well before sunup and started glassing as soon as we could. Spotted elk and checked wind. Shrap dumped mini-'flave and I off and then he went back to town to get the breakfast he wouldn't let us have before heading out.
Mini and myself headed up to the top where the elk were spotted. I'd say it was 1K' up. Wind in our face and moving west toward the elk we were more than a little confident the whole time. We check location of the herd by cresting the ridge on occasion and getting within line of sight. Then we'd creep back toward the edge of the timber and continue our creeping.
Got within 200yds and low crawled up to a shooting position. Everything with headgear moved away but the cows were in a huge ball of couldn't shoot. Chambered a round and waited a bit as I figured there would be a loner some time soon and I'd smoke it. Opportunity was aaaaalmost there, but the last straggler had another cow moving behind her so I held off. No big deal, they dropped down into a draw with a bunch of timber but the opposite side was clear and I figured they'd reappear. Ranged it quick and it was 300yds to the other side. Well within range of my incredible deadliness.
As luck would have it, I didn't have to wait. There was a cow bedded on the other side. I'd have to thread the needle through a clearing in the timber but she was only 200yds out. The luck o 'flave rang again. As luck would further have it, I was able to stand and use a tree as a support. This elk hunting schit was gettin' easier by the second and I laughed as I thought about all the fugging morons in this world that think it's difficult. Further proving that God loves me, the cow stood up, and gave me a perfect broadside. I let the breath out, smiled and squeezed the trigger. "Click."
"Fugg..." as I rack the bolt and am rewarded with a jam. 'WTF?' I look in the chamber and sure as schit there is a round in there. 'Why will it not fire? Why will it not extract?' 'Fugg it... who cares...try it again.' I close the bolt and hold just behind the shoulder of the still there stupid ass cow. "Click."
I drop down to a knee and move back. 'WTF could be causing this?' I look around for a stick long enough to run down the barrel and then a thought enters my mind. 'It won't extract and it won't fire because it's a 22-250 case!' I angle the gun so I can see the headstamp in the sunlight and sure as Gruff is gay, I see "250 Win" light up in the chamber of my 7-08. "FUGGG!!!!"
I don't despair because I have a long history of luck outweighing my habitual habits of being a slob and procrastinator. I dump the mag and grab the Leatherman and start tapping against the stock. Mean time I am glancing at the opening where I saw the cow. She's gone, but since Christ still loves 'flave there are about 6 cows standing on the clearing I'd originally hoped they show up on. As I repeatedly whisper "C*nt, fugg, Wish I bought a Sako..." etc. I look back at the cows and as I do I hear "tink." I look in the snow and there is a 22-250 cartridge laying in the snow. "HAHAAHA! Fugg yeah!" I whisper.
Down and back to a ridge so I can take the shot. Just as I low crawl to the rocks I was going to shoot over, the last cow disappears into the timber. I know my luck never runs out, so I wait. Sure as schit... three more elk. All bulls.
So on that note, I dropped a few more expletives, and walked back to my son who was observing the whole time. He never looked so proud to know I'm probably not his real dad. Then, we got the fugg out of there.
The End.
Travis
Great story, Travis. The 7-08 will prevail next time.
Travis could have killed any one of them at any time.... The preplanned ammo malfunction was the only thing giving the elk a chance of survival, otherwise their fate was sealed.....
Good on ya.... deflave
I'm pretty good at sellin' bullschit. But this one is tough...
I was very kind to Travis and didn't pile on, when I could have. I had these elk spotted for over a week and kept an eye on them during that time. It is true, I went for breakfast at Val's Diner in Wilsall while Travis and Mini-flave were hiking, but there was no need for me to hike with 2 elk already under my belt this fall, and recovering from a severe leg injury.
I strongly urged Travis to take the 300 and Mini could pack the lighter and much inferior rifle, if you can call it that. You can't talk sense to someone who insists on fast twist and plastic. He opted for the GFY and 2 different cartridges, confident one would work.
I am watching all of this through a spotting scope and can see Travis and elk, both in the spotter. Watching the sneak, I was expecting a shot at any time and was hoping to see the elk drop in the scope. Neither happened and we broke radio silence. There were still at least 100 head of elk moving slowly East but Travis was used up. He said he was coming off the mountain with something of a gun malfunction.
I never said "I told you so" but I had a strong feeling that I should. Travis is something of a sensitive guy and after all the drama, I again exercised prudence and stayed calm and polite. Besides, we had tomorrow to do it again, and Val's is open for breakfast at 7:00.
Travis decided elk hunting was easier than he thought and didn't consider all the work I had put into this to make it happen for him. He told me that he was fine with a quick trip over on "Bob's place" in the morning and by then, he would be having Megan/Pepper withdrawals and opted for an early departure.
That was soon forgotten though, when we got to the motel and she wasn't there. I left him standing in the entryway of the Motel in 7 degree weather steaming at being left by his 2 girls. At least he wasn't cold...
AWESOME! This is easily the second best hunting story I have read on the 'fire. Now, if Travis ass-shoots an elk, and Shrapnel shows up with a mile of cable....
AWESOME! This is easily the second best hunting story I have read on the 'fire. Now, if Travis ass-shoots an elk, and Shrapnel shows up with a mile of cable....
The good news is no animals were wounded and no hunting privileges were lost.
The bad news is my ego almost took a dent. Almost.
I was judicious with my criticism. Travis will concur, I was nowhere near as hard on him as he may have deserved. We have a friendship brothers would be envious of. We both know that there aren't a half dozen Campfire members that could have survived this debacle...
Please tell me that this is not over, and we can expect more of this gripping tale? Its simply too good to stop now. Good to see Travis is keeping his chin up, and with a mentor like Shrapnel he must certainly connect at some point. THAT should be a story worth hearing!
Fire forming your 7-08 out of 22-250 now days huh? You retard...GFY. I bet that boy will have a tale that no one at school will believe...I mean w/his father's reputation and all as a big game hunter. powdr
You think the gun got too cold and the oil froze up a bit?
Not sure what you mean.
Travis
Yep, brain fart. I was thinking misfire, rolling that around in my brain, and spaced that you had the wrong ammo. It must have been real dark or you were super excited!
I don't know what to say, other than belted mag ammo boxes are taller... Was there a big "GFY" sticker on the ammo box? That's where I'd start checking things out.....
Congrats on the elk!
Oh well, at least shrap didn't have to turn on the radio on the ride back.....
His "first elk"? Can you really call it that if he struck out. Can we just call him a 50 year old virgin instead?? .. Oh, by the way, GFY travis....You should have taken shrappy up on his 300 wby offer. You probably wouldn't have even felt the recoil. Better luck next time..
Yep, brain fart. I was thinking misfire, rolling that around in my brain, and spaced that you had the wrong ammo. It must have been real dark or you were super excited!
That's actually what I thought when it first went click. I thought maybe my never cleaning anything was catching up to me and that the -19 temp froze something up.
Also a 257 Roberts wont chamber in a 6.5x55,I tested that one out a few years ago
Grin...
If anybody is wondering how this could happen, my theory is that I left a 22-250 round in the shellholder that is sewn into the breast pocket of my jacket.
About the only two guns I use during deer season are the 22-250 and the 7.
Even though I am certain that I cleaned out the shellholder and replaced them all with 7's before leaving for Bozeman, I am guessing I missed one and Murphy made sure it was number three when I was pulling them from the shellholder.
'Flave still hasn't figured out that this is just a ploy to get him to come back next year so that he can fail again, but have Shrapnel put mini-Flave onto a 360"+ 6x6. All the more rock salt for the self-inflicted wounds.
'Flave still hasn't figured out that this is just a ploy to get him to come back next year so that he can fail again, but have Shrapnel put mini-Flave onto a 360"+ 6x6. All the more rock salt for the self-inflicted wounds.
With a proven, wood stocked, blued barrel deluxe rifle that kills out past 500 yards...
'Flave still hasn't figured out that this is just a ploy to get him to come back next year so that he can fail again, but have Shrapnel put mini-Flave onto a 360"+ 6x6. All the more rock salt for the self-inflicted wounds.
With a proven, wood stocked, blued barrel deluxe rifle that kills out past 500 yards...
I wasn't trying to give away the entire game plan. Hell, you're probably planning on the kid making the shot with irons and a BPCR.
Travis could have killed any one of them at any time.... The preplanned ammo malfunction was the only thing giving the elk a chance of survival, otherwise their fate was sealed.....
Good on ya.... deflave
Ha. He didnt want to have to pack it off the hill.
If it makes Flave feel any better, I once got up at midnight, packed, hit the road, drove 3 hours, and hit my spot on schedule just before shooting light for the mule deer opener. Then opened the gun case and found a Ruger 77/22 instead of a FN .30-06. I couldn't do anything but laugh, buy breakfast, and go home
If it makes Flave feel any better, I once got up at midnight, packed, hit the road, drove 3 hours, and hit my spot on schedule just before shooting light for the mule deer opener. Then opened the gun case and found a Ruger 77/22 instead of a FN .30-06. I couldn't do anything but laugh, buy breakfast, and go home
Yeah. I've actually done much worse.
But this time there was a witness so I have to own it.
'WTF could be causing this?' I look around for a stick long enough to run down the barrel and then a thought enters my mind. 'It won't extract and it won't fire because it's a 22-250 case!' I angle the gun so I can see the headstamp in the sunlight and sure as Gruff is gay, I see "250 Win" light up in the chamber of my 7-08. "FUGGG!!!!"
Travis
This is raising serious red flags on whether you're able to be a responsible adoptive parent of my child...
'WTF could be causing this?' I look around for a stick long enough to run down the barrel and then a thought enters my mind. 'It won't extract and it won't fire because it's a 22-250 case!' I angle the gun so I can see the headstamp in the sunlight and sure as Gruff is gay, I see "250 Win" light up in the chamber of my 7-08. "FUGGG!!!!"
Travis
This is raising serious red flags on whether you're able to be a responsible adoptive parent of my child...
I'm guessing you didn't have any 7-08 ammo at all along?
Did you try to find some 7-08 ammo in Bozeman?
I had plenty of 7-08. It was in my pocket.
Travis
Ahh...most of us change our pants between outings, Travis. Oh, and I have it under good advisement that 22-250 rounds don't work so when once washed. I learned long time ago that life is better for me and my wife if I check my pockets before they go in the laundry.
All kidding aside, you'll get one, and thanks for being a caring dad...ingraining a malleable mind with your pure, unadulterated character.
Excellent read guys, thanks for the entertainment ! I bet that mistake will never happen again on a elk hunt. You are forgiven Deflave. Glad there was no mishap with the wrong cartridge. Your son will truly learn from this, to be careful when grabbing a box of shells for a hunt. If you bribe/pay him, maybe he won't tell his friends. : )
I got a couple of tall 13+ mountains in my back yard for training. Of course living at 8500 feet helps too. I forgot to tell you Elk in my backyard too.
If it makes Flave feel any better, I once got up at midnight, packed, hit the road, drove 3 hours, and hit my spot on schedule just before shooting light for the mule deer opener. Then opened the gun case and found a Ruger 77/22 instead of a FN .30-06. I couldn't do anything but laugh, buy breakfast, and go home
Everyone should know that our own Campfire mentor, Mule Deer showed up for a varmint hunt without ammunition...
Ahh...most of us change our pants between outings, Travis. Oh, and I have it under good advisement that 22-250 rounds don't work so when once washed. I learned long time ago that life is better for me and my wife if I check my pockets before they go in the laundry.
All kidding aside, you'll get one, and thanks for being a caring dad...ingraining a malleable mind with your pure, unadulterated character.
Excellent read guys, thanks for the entertainment ! I bet that mistake will never happen again on a elk hunt. You are forgiven Deflave. Glad there was no mishap with the wrong cartridge. Your son will truly learn from this, to be careful when grabbing a box of shells for a hunt. If you bribe/pay him, maybe he won't tell his friends. : )
I drove him to school this morning and asked him how he thought I would have handled that if it were HE that chambered the wrong ammunition at the end of that 4 hour stalk.
I got a couple of tall 13+ mountains in my back yard for training. Of course living at 8500 feet helps too. I forgot to tell you Elk in my backyard too.
I'd rather FUBAR a thousand cow elk hunts in MT than harvest one bull in CO.
If it makes Flave feel any better, I once got up at midnight, packed, hit the road, drove 3 hours, and hit my spot on schedule just before shooting light for the mule deer opener. Then opened the gun case and found a Ruger 77/22 instead of a FN .30-06. I couldn't do anything but laugh, buy breakfast, and go home
Everyone should know that our own Campfire mentor, Mule Deer showed up for a varmint hunt without ammunition...
If he did on our extravaganza, he never asked me....I probably had some
If it makes Flave feel any better, I once got up at midnight, packed, hit the road, drove 3 hours, and hit my spot on schedule just before shooting light for the mule deer opener. Then opened the gun case and found a Ruger 77/22 instead of a FN .30-06. I couldn't do anything but laugh, buy breakfast, and go home
Everyone should know that our own Campfire mentor, Mule Deer showed up for a varmint hunt without ammunition...
If he did on our extravaganza, he never asked me....I probably had some
Nope, it wasn't the PD Invitational. It was another time when he was going to enlighten me on the virtues of a 204 Ruger. He did fail, you can't do it without ammunition...
Yep, but luckily I remembered the ammo for Eileen's rifles.
By the way, we're still shooting some of that .22 Long Rifle ammo I bought in Wilsall so I could shoot gophers. I decided as long as the store was selling it for a decent price to stock up. Turned out out that was a good decision.
Not to mention shrapnel chewed my ass for alleged bad parenting.
Travis
I think he chewed because it was PAST an allegation.....
I have guided elk hunters before, this wasn't my first time. While they were putting on their cold weather gear in the -19 degree weather, I pulled out a set of walkie-talkies and put in new batteries.
I told him to take one and give another to Mini. Travis assured me he would never be more than a few steps away from Mini. I yielded to his sense of parental duty.
While I was watching the great elk debacle unfold, I saw Travis go over the top of the mountain, solo. I watched for Mini to see if he would follow a few paces behind, but he didn't. There were trees that covered much of the patterns of these two flat landers, I had to make sure nothing went wrong.
You also need to remember, I am watching 100 head of elk and wanting to keep tabs on them. Evidently Travis came back from the backside of the mountain while I was looking at elk. I watched Mini walk up and down the mountain in the open and then East sad West alternately.
It is at this point I am starting to wonder about Travis's parenting, as I worry Mini is alone walking I circles. This is the 7 mm-08 malfunction junction at its best, because I am watching Mini walking incircles to keep warm while Travis is having epic so-called rifle failure.
At times I could see elk and Mini in the same field of view, no sign of Travis, no sounds of guns being fired. I always keep my radio on so when radio silence is broken, I can respond. It was at that time I heard a disparaging remark from Travis and that he and Mini were coming off the mountain.
When he got back to the truck, he told me of the whole ordeal. I am sure the back of his head still smarts from the slap. I told him that I wouldn't tell him so, but like Custer refusing to take the Gatling to the Little Bighorn, Travis opted to leave the 300 with me at the truck...
I got a couple of tall 13+ mountains in my back yard for training. Of course living at 8500 feet helps too. I forgot to tell you Elk in my backyard too.
Not to mention shrapnel chewed my ass for alleged bad parenting.
Travis
I think he chewed because it was PAST an allegation.....
I have guided elk hunters before, this wasn't my first time. While they were putting on their cold weather gear in the -19 degree weather, I pulled out a set of walkie-talkies and put in new batteries.
I told him to take one and give another to Mini. Travis assured me he would never be more than a few steps away from Mini. I yielded to his sense of parental duty.
While I was watching the great elk debacle unfold, I saw Travis go over the top of the mountain, solo. I watched for Mini to see if he would follow a few paces behind, but he didn't. There were trees that covered much of the patterns of these two flat landers, I had to make sure nothing went wrong.
You also need to remember, I am watching 100 head of elk and wanting to keep tabs on them. Evidently Travis came back from the backside of the mountain while I was looking at elk. I watched Mini walk up and down the mountain in the open and then East sad West alternately.
It is at this point I am starting to wonder about Travis's parenting, as I worry Mini is alone walking I circles. This is the 7 mm-08 malfunction junction at its best, because I am watching Mini walking incircles to keep warm while Travis is having epic so-called rifle failure.
At times I could see elk and Mini in the same field of view, no sign of Travis, no sounds of guns being fired. I always keep my radio on so when radio silence is broken, I can respond. It was at that time I heard a disparaging remark from Travis and that he and Mini were coming off the mountain.
When he got back to the truck, he told me of the whole ordeal. I am sure the back of his head still smarts from the slap. I told him that I wouldn't tell him so, but like Custer refusing to take the Gatling to the Little Bighorn, Travis opted to leave the 300 with me at the truck...
Re-posted for posterity....and child safety.
I love it.
PS: I got someone a camo'd, padded 5 gallon bucket lid(Neal bought it).....that swivels. Not that it will help or anything....
AWESOME! This is easily the second best hunting story I have read on the 'fire. Now, if Travis ass-shoots an elk, and Shrapnel shows up with a mile of cable....
The good news is no animals were wounded and no hunting privileges were lost.
The bad news is my ego almost took a dent. Almost.
Travis
The bad news is no elk sticks to share at the VFW in Poland
I did go hunting once at about 8000 feet in the Inyo Mtns, and it was 0�F or so and darned chilly. So -15� and I can certainly sympathize with Flave and Mini-Flave on the challenge.
But I also note that if I were to go whack an elk on my first try (especially with a wood & blue steel rifle) I would be more Uber than Flave.
Yeah, it's no ass-shot bear along with the virtues of some mega-magnum, and a mile of cable to add validity to the whole tale, but I keep coming back to this thread. I have to say that you're taking really well, Travis. If it was me, I'd look and sound like a severe Tourette's sufferer for some time.
Yeah, it's no ass-shot bear along with the virtues of some mega-magnum, and a mile of cable to add validity to the whole tale, but I keep coming back to this thread. I have to say that you're taking really well, Travis. If it was me, I'd look and sound like a severe Tourette's sufferer for some time.
Can't wait for Part Deux!
While I am not a fan of accepting defeat, a guy has to maintain perspective and not take himself more serious than necessary.
Big 2 year old cow sure has some great tender loins. Deer are good but the tender loins only last one meal. Elk you can get 5 or 6 meals of tender loins.
Big 2 year old cow sure has some great tender loins. Deer are good but the tender loins only last one meal. Elk you can get 5 or 6 meals of tender loins.
If I were shootin' critters for meat, I'd do it year 'round.
Yeah, it's no ass-shot bear along with the virtues of some mega-magnum, and a mile of cable to add validity to the whole tale, but I keep coming back to this thread. I have to say that you're taking really well, Travis. If it was me, I'd look and sound like a severe Tourette's sufferer for some time.
Can't wait for Part Deux!
While I am not a fan of accepting defeat, a guy has to maintain perspective and not take himself more serious than necessary.
But goddamm, I wish I'd whacked that cow... grin.
Travis
Only half as much as I do. The local TV station has heard about this and wants to do a story. The real problem is that around this part of the state they don't even know who Scenarshooter is because the folk stories about Shrapnel have been discussed around campfires so long, they haven't had any need for other success stories.
It takes some real work to suppress a 380 bull elk taken with a recurve bow. An unfinished story of an elk hunt with no elk, turns into a Christmas Carol, The First Noelk...
I'm still waiting to hear an explanation of why or what makes a "Colorado elk" better than any other elk.
Flave, at least you were our there hiking and trying to teach your son how to hunt. We have shared in his success before so you must be doing something right there. Sure beats pounding on the keyboard keys, or doing a retile job in the house like I was doing......
I don't blame anyone for not wanting to live here. Liberals are trying to take over the whole state. They want it to be a wolf sanctuary. I say move the wolves to back east where the liberals can see them.
Well, I'm very disappointed that this little adventure has drawn to a close. I really was hoping for at least one more episode. Shrap's storytelling has been great, and I'm sure that another couple days worth of hunting would have resulted in a truly epic tale. I am somewhat disappointed at the good grace with which Travis is taking his lumps, even going so far as to admit some responsibility. This is quite out of character and makes it more difficult to cyber bully him, which I find somewhat inconsiderate.
Ahh...most of us change our pants between outings, Travis. Oh, and I have it under good advisement that 22-250 rounds don't work so when once washed. I learned long time ago that life is better for me and my wife if I check my pockets before they go in the laundry.
All kidding aside, you'll get one, and thanks for being a caring dad...ingraining a malleable mind with your pure, unadulterated character.
I've washed thousands.
Thanks, Travis
Ha. Caring dad my ass. I just thank The Lord young Flave wasn't the one this chitt happened to with Col Travis along to pack meat. Whew, I'd be glad it wasnt me in his shoes.
Not to mention shrapnel chewed my ass for alleged bad parenting.
Travis
I think he chewed because it was PAST an allegation.....
I have guided elk hunters before, this wasn't my first time. While they were putting on their cold weather gear in the -19 degree weather, I pulled out a set of walkie-talkies and put in new batteries.
I told him to take one and give another to Mini. Travis assured me he would never be more than a few steps away from Mini. I yielded to his sense of parental duty.
While I was watching the great elk debacle unfold, I saw Travis go over the top of the mountain, solo. I watched for Mini to see if he would follow a few paces behind, but he didn't. There were trees that covered much of the patterns of these two flat landers, I had to make sure nothing went wrong.
You also need to remember, I am watching 100 head of elk and wanting to keep tabs on them. Evidently Travis came back from the backside of the mountain while I was looking at elk. I watched Mini walk up and down the mountain in the open and then East sad West alternately.
It is at this point I am starting to wonder about Travis's parenting, as I worry Mini is alone walking I circles. This is the 7 mm-08 malfunction junction at its best, because I am watching Mini walking incircles to keep warm while Travis is having epic so-called rifle failure.
At times I could see elk and Mini in the same field of view, no sign of Travis, no sounds of guns being fired. I always keep my radio on so when radio silence is broken, I can respond. It was at that time I heard a disparaging remark from Travis and that he and Mini were coming off the mountain.
When he got back to the truck, he told me of the whole ordeal. I am sure the back of his head still smarts from the slap. I told him that I wouldn't tell him so, but like Custer refusing to take the Gatling to the Little Bighorn, Travis opted to leave the 300 with me at the truck...
Ha, and a real hunter would pay good money to take a real gun after elk rather than an elk gun wanna be.
I don't blame anyone for not wanting to live here. Liberals are trying to take over the whole state. They want it to be a wolf sanctuary. I say move the wolves to back east where the liberals can see them.
Big 2 year old cow sure has some great tender loins. Deer are good but the tender loins only last one meal. Elk you can get 5 or 6 meals of tender loins.
If I were shootin' critters for meat, I'd do it year 'round.
Travis
Come on Travis, admit it. You left Mini Flave behind cause you were asceered he'd mess up your chitt.
Flave, at least you were our there hiking and trying to teach your son how to hunt. We have shared in his success before so you must be doing something right there.
There is a line in the movie "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance" that goes something like this...
"When legend becomes fact, print the legend"
This story is much better without revealing all the virtue that Travis has. We discussed this at length on the trip next morning. It is better that no one knows who Travis really is...
Yea, once you get a Bull in Colorado you will hunt no where else.
I had the pleasure (if you call it that) of living just of I70 in NW Kansas for a while. I've never seen so many rag horns and wanna-be bulls traveling back east after the hunters had slayed their monstrous Colorado elk.
No doubt there are big ones there, but most everything I ever saw while there coming out of Colorado, I would pass up here if bull hunting.
I was gonna give Travis bs about this then I remembered finding a 270 in a box of 280's awhile back and remembered we all can make mistakes. It's what you do about it that counts. Feel like a dick for awhile and move on,this type of stuff needs a point in time to laugh at yourself and share it. Then move on,only need so much salt in the wound to make you remember. I think Travis showed his own son what can happen when you overlook details. Growth and a learning experience in one lesson. I really wouldn't have wanted to use Shrapnel's 300 with the grenade launcher on the end of it either. Magnum Man
It takes some real work to suppress a 380 bull elk taken with a recurve bow. An unfinished story of an elk hunt with no elk, turns into a Christmas Carol, The First Noelk...
I'm still waiting to hear an explanation of why or what makes a "Colorado elk" better than any other elk.
Flave, at least you were our there hiking and trying to teach your son how to hunt. We have shared in his success before so you must be doing something right there. Sure beats pounding on the keyboard keys, or doing a retile job in the house like I was doing......
I was gonna give Travis bs about this then I remembered finding a 270 in a box of 280's awhile back and remembered we all can make mistakes. It's what you do about it that counts. Feel like a dick for awhile and move on,this type of stuff needs a point in time to laugh at yourself and share it. Then move on,only need so much salt in the wound to make you remember. I think Travis showed his own son what can happen when you overlook details. Growth and a learning experience in one lesson. I really wouldn't have wanted to use Shrapnel's 300 with the grenade launcher on the end of it either. Magnum Man
God doesn't serve me a lot of humble pie, but when he does, it's a big fuggin' pie...
Yea, once you get a Bull in Colorado you will hunt no where else.
As somebody that hunts in Colorado and probably a lot harder than you do, I declare this statement safariman level of stupid, and the poster probably is too.
A quick chamber set-back to 7XC should get the headspace about right. You will however have to obtain some bullets with enough diameter to engage the lands.
Yea, once you get a Bull in Colorado you will hunt no where else.
I had the pleasure (if you call it that) of living just of I70 in NW Kansas for a while. I've never seen so many rag horns and wanna-be bulls traveling back east after the hunters had slayed their monstrous Colorado elk.
No doubt there are big ones there, but most everything I ever saw while there coming out of Colorado, I would pass up here if bull hunting.
All of the big elk are up in Montana these days. Only raghorns left in CO.
Yea, once you get a Bull in Colorado you will hunt no where else.
I had the pleasure (if you call it that) of living just of I70 in NW Kansas for a while. I've never seen so many rag horns and wanna-be bulls traveling back east after the hunters had slayed their monstrous Colorado elk.
No doubt there are big ones there, but most everything I ever saw while there coming out of Colorado, I would pass up here if bull hunting.
All of the big elk are up in Montana these days. Only raghorns left in CO.
I guided in CO this year for a few days... I'd have to agree with starsky... Nothing but raghorns...
Travis... Good job on screwing the pooch... I knew you had it in you...
Hey Travis, just checked in and was wondering how the huntin with Shrap went??? I hope you took the right ammo this time...Still laffin at you bringing 22-250 ammo for the 7mm-08 last year...crazy...
Hey Travis, just checked in and was wondering how the huntin with Shrap went??? I hope you took the right ammo this time...Still laffin at you bringing 22-250 ammo for the 7mm-08 last year...crazy...
I pulled a "Travis" once a lot of years ago. I was living in Phoenix and had arranged to meet some East coast buds in New Mexico for a bear hunt. I drove and picked my buds up at the airport in NM. We got way back in to our destination and the first morning I realized I had brought the wrong ammo. My rifle was a wildcat, so no option to buy ammo. I was chief spotter for the trip. We only saw one bear the whole week. It was a tiny dink. So we had a great camping trip. Make the best of what you can. Sorry your elk hunt got hosed Travis.
Sounds like Travis had a classic case of "performance anxiety" trying to perform in front of Shrapnel. That kind of performing is not what the little blue pills are for!
Busy as a busy little bee. Moving in winter sucks balls. Dogs all over the place and no phoucing time during the 3 hours of daylight we have to murder any.
Alls kickazz on the prayeree. How's things with you dude?
Well, pretty obvious that Shrap's a heck of a good guy. Kudos.
Travis, we've all been there. Shrug it off, Schitt happens. I remember this one time at band camp.....no, um, hunting camp. Went down the hill (big hill!) after a caribou. Aim, safety off...click! Fugg! Had a bunch of rounds with bad primers. Caribou gets away and about that time my stomach starts to gurgle. Did I have my pack or even my fanny pack with "supplies"? Hell no, was just gonna wack the caribou and have the guys come pick me up (rule was if you killed something you got a ride back to camp, no kill you walked back up "the hill." Had to walk back to camp with no caribou and only half of a tee-shirt! Schitt REALLY does happen!
This is The truck when Travis got here. Megan and his daughter, Pepper, rode all the way from Havre, in severe conditions, under that tarp, while Travis and jis egg-sucking dog road up front with the heater.
I have slapped him a few times, but for this I actually slugged him. People won't believe this, but it is true...
This is The truck when Travis got here. Megan and his daughter, Pepper, rode all the way from Havre, in severe conditions, under that tarp, while Travis and jis egg-sucking dog road up front with the heater.
I have slapped him a few times, but for this I actually slugged him. People won't believe this, but it is true...
No wonder you were training so hard all summer for your Montana Elk Hunt. That terrain looks brutal. Most people will never know the strain and hazards of having to scale and clear a 4 strand wire. Then consider an animal dieing where you can't back up to it......
After letting that dog of his ride all the way to Bozeman in the cab of the truck, he beat the holy living bejeebers out of it when it got out of the cab and peed on his nice rims on the truck. I never saw a human bite a dog on the ear before...
There is no telling where he would have bit the dog if he had two or three beers...
When he was a puppy he thought it was cute to run after some calves. A right hook to his head made his legs more than a little wobbly. Out came the LCR, a solid leg against the throat ensured I'd have proper shot placement. (provided I had the right ammo)
Then I remembered how much he cost. So I bought a shock collar instead.
This is The truck when Travis got here. Megan and his daughter, Pepper, rode all the way from Havre, in severe conditions, under that tarp, while Travis and jis egg-sucking dog road up front with the heater.
I have slapped him a few times, but for this I actually slugged him. People won't believe this, but it is true...
I have had no trouble believing (and enjoying)every part of this story so far. Carry on, I'm sure many other nefarious deeds were committed by this man that need to be brought to light so that we can all be properly amused horrified.
Well, pretty obvious that Shrap's a heck of a good guy. Kudos.
Travis, we've all been there. Shrug it off, Schitt happens. I remember this one time at band camp.....no, um, hunting camp. Went down the hill (big hill!) after a caribou. Aim, safety off...click! Fugg! Had a bunch of rounds with bad primers. Caribou gets away and about that time my stomach starts to gurgle. Did I have my pack or even my fanny pack with "supplies"? Hell no, was just gonna wack the caribou and have the guys come pick me up (rule was if you killed something you got a ride back to camp, no kill you walked back up "the hill." Had to walk back to camp with no caribou and only half of a tee-shirt! Schitt REALLY does happen!
Don't feel bad.
Gruff straight schit his pants walking down a sidewalk in Havre.
Dude, not sure what you are in pursuit of this weekend, but if you are packing the two fitty I can run over some .204 ammo to keep the thread alive. Call me.
Dude, not sure what you are in pursuit of this weekend, but if you are packing the two fitty I can run over some .204 ammo to keep the thread alive. Call me.
I'm going with the .44 Special and a pocket full of .38's.
Dude, not sure what you are in pursuit of this weekend, but if you are packing the two fitty I can run over some .204 ammo to keep the thread alive. Call me.
I'm going with the .44 Special and a pocket full of .38's.
But thanks.
Travis
When I first read this sad adventure I was wondering, what with it being Flave and all, why he didn't whip out his �ber 97 and go all Elmer Keith on that elk's ass....
Dude, not sure what you are in pursuit of this weekend, but if you are packing the two fitty I can run over some .204 ammo to keep the thread alive. Call me.
I'm going with the .44 Special and a pocket full of .38's.
But thanks.
Travis
When I first read this sad adventure I was wondering, what with it being Flave and all, why he didn't whip out his �ber 97 and go all Elmer Keith on that elk's ass....
Shrapnel didn't have 5 miles of steel cable to haul it out and Travis didn't have enough time to let it suffer until the next morning.
Dude, not sure what you are in pursuit of this weekend, but if you are packing the two fitty I can run over some .204 ammo to keep the thread alive. Call me.
I'm going with the .44 Special and a pocket full of .38's.
But thanks.
Travis
When I first read this sad adventure I was wondering, what with it being Flave and all, why he didn't whip out his �ber 97 and go all Elmer Keith on that elk's ass....
This is from the Invitational thread previous to this particular debacle. It was made clear about morphodite guns and the ability to bring them...
OK, you are invited, but no plastic stocks or stainless guns allowed... _________________________ Originally Posted By: deflave If you want to fit in with a new crowd, ask them if they know shrapnel. There is no friggin' way they won't know who that man is. He is the Chuck Norris of Montana and you will have a nice icebreaker to discuss. Travis
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When I first read this sad adventure I was wondering, what with it being Flave and all, why he didn't whip out his �ber 97 and go all Elmer Keith on that elk's ass....
I got a speech about "too much weight" before walking out.
When I first read this sad adventure I was wondering, what with it being Flave and all, why he didn't whip out his �ber 97 and go all Elmer Keith on that elk's ass....
I got a speech about "too much weight" before walking out.
Travis
Some people may think this is all a story made up for the readers, but every bit of it is true. Travis opened up a 60 pound backpack and in that pack was another sub-compartment with a monster stainless steel gun that would work as an anchor on the rivers during fishing season. I told him to pare down his weight and if he needed a handgun, I had just the ticket.
He passed on it and the Weatherby, came down off the mountain several hours later, tired, hungry and sans elk...
Another true story. I told him of the ridiculousness of fast twist, long bullets and slow velocity. I don't think he was moved by that speech, however...
Well here's another question, flave when you got back to shrap's truck did you set on a bucket in the bed and slide the rear window open like a catholic at confessional or did you walk right up to him and plead for forgiveness?
Be glad you didn't have .308 ammo then you'd be taking a DNA test to see see if ole' shrap was your pappy in kaboom!
There are still over 200 head of elk, unmolested on that mountain. I watch it at least once a week. Maybe next year at the invitational something or someone will change...
Registered: 03/22/11 Posts: 28269 Originally Posted By: MILES58 If crows and eagles are smart enough to home in on a shot to get the leftovers, why would we we expect less of a bear?
A bear could really become enraged if followed Col Travis on an elk hunt?
Registered: 03/22/11 Posts: 28269 Originally Posted By: MILES58 If crows and eagles are smart enough to home in on a shot to get the leftovers, why would we we expect less of a bear?
A bear could really become enraged if followed Col Travis on an elk hunt?
There are still over 200 head of elk, unmolested on that mountain. I watch it at least once a week. Maybe next year at the invitational something or someone will change...
I think you could make big bucks taking a certain fire member elk hunting - again.
Col Travis, this reminds me of my first deer hunt with Dad a long time ago. I was about three years old and we climbed a steep high ridge above the Pecos River. He had borrowed a long range rig from a pal on an oil rig. Marlin lever 30-30 but it had one of them new fang led things called a scope. A little buck came by down in the flat and Dad missed it. I remember the heartbreak and I'll never forget it.
Tell little Travy I'm sorry and I hope he gets over it.
I drop down to a knee and move back. 'WTF could be causing this?' I look around for a stick long enough to run down the barrel and then a thought enters my mind. 'It won't extract and it won't fire because it's a 22-250 case!' I angle the gun so I can see the headstamp in the sunlight and sure as Gruff is gay, I see "250 Win" light up in the chamber of my 7-08. "FUGGG!!!!" repeatedly whisper "C*nt, fugg, Wish I bought a Sako..." etc. I look back at the cows and as I do I hear "tink." I look in the snow and there is a 22-250 cartridge laying in the snow. "HAHAAHA! Fugg yeah!" I whisper.
I wonder if the inability to match roll stamps with head stamps is a MT thing, or are you originally from Tejas, or maybe Oregon?
Col Travis, this reminds me of my first deer hunt with Dad a long time ago. I was about three years old and we climbed a steep high ridge above the Pecos River. He had borrowed a long range rig from a pal on an oil rig. Marlin lever 30-30 but it had one of them new fang led things called a scope. A little buck came by down in the flat and Dad missed it. I remember the heartbreak and I'll never forget it.
Tell little Travy I'm sorry and I hope he gets over it.
I fail to see how you can compare a schitty hunt in Texas, to a great hunt in Montana.
There aren't 5 guys total, on the Campfire that could have pulled this hunt off. After a few more pages, I may reveal more about this hunt than anyone reading this could possibly ever guess...
There aren't 5 guys total, on the Campfire that could have pulled this hunt off. After a few more pages, I may reveal more about this hunt than anyone reading this could possibly ever guess...
There aren't 5 guys total, on the Campfire that could have pulled this hunt off. After a few more pages, I may reveal more about this hunt than anyone reading this could possibly ever guess...
First off, shrap has the art of one day/weekend hunting down to a science. We went to the spot well before sunup and started glassing as soon as we could. Spotted elk and checked wind. Shrap dumped mini-'flave and I off and then he went back to town to get the breakfast he wouldn't let us have before heading out.
Mini and myself headed up to the top where the elk were spotted. I'd say it was 1K' up. Wind in our face and moving west toward the elk we were more than a little confident the whole time. We check location of the herd by cresting the ridge on occasion and getting within line of sight. Then we'd creep back toward the edge of the timber and continue our creeping.
Got within 200yds and low crawled up to a shooting position. Everything with headgear moved away but the cows were in a huge ball of couldn't shoot. Chambered a round and waited a bit as I figured there would be a loner some time soon and I'd smoke it. Opportunity was aaaaalmost there, but the last straggler had another cow moving behind her so I held off. No big deal, they dropped down into a draw with a bunch of timber but the opposite side was clear and I figured they'd reappear. Ranged it quick and it was 300yds to the other side. Well within range of my incredible deadliness.
As luck would have it, I didn't have to wait. There was a cow bedded on the other side. I'd have to thread the needle through a clearing in the timber but she was only 200yds out. The luck o 'flave rang again. As luck would further have it, I was able to stand and use a tree as a support. This elk hunting schit was gettin' easier by the second and I laughed as I thought about all the fugging morons in this world that think it's difficult. Further proving that God loves me, the cow stood up, and gave me a perfect broadside. I let the breath out, smiled and squeezed the trigger. "Click."
"Fugg..." as I rack the bolt and am rewarded with a jam. 'WTF?' I look in the chamber and sure as schit there is a round in there. 'Why will it not fire? Why will it not extract?' 'Fugg it... who cares...try it again.' I close the bolt and hold just behind the shoulder of the still there stupid ass cow. "Click."
I drop down to a knee and move back. 'WTF could be causing this?' I look around for a stick long enough to run down the barrel and then a thought enters my mind. 'It won't extract and it won't fire because it's a 22-250 case!' I angle the gun so I can see the headstamp in the sunlight and sure as Gruff is gay, I see "250 Win" light up in the chamber of my 7-08. "FUGGG!!!!"
I don't despair because I have a long history of luck outweighing my habitual habits of being a slob and procrastinator. I dump the mag and grab the Leatherman and start tapping against the stock. Mean time I am glancing at the opening where I saw the cow. She's gone, but since Christ still loves 'flave there are about 6 cows standing on the clearing I'd originally hoped they show up on. As I repeatedly whisper "C*nt, fugg, Wish I bought a Sako..." etc. I look back at the cows and as I do I hear "tink." I look in the snow and there is a 22-250 cartridge laying in the snow. "HAHAAHA! Fugg yeah!" I whisper.
Down and back to a ridge so I can take the shot. Just as I low crawl to the rocks I was going to shoot over, the last cow disappears into the timber. I know my luck never runs out, so I wait. Sure as schit... three more elk. All bulls.
So on that note, I dropped a few more expletives, and walked back to my son who was observing the whole time. He never looked so proud to know I'm probably not his real dad. Then, we got the fugg out of there.
I'm trying to figure out why he didn't make friends with one of those home owners and shoot one from their back porch. Either that or wait till evening when they come in to feed with the cows.
First off, shrap has the art of one day/weekend hunting down to a science. We went to the spot well before sunup and started glassing as soon as we could. Spotted elk and checked wind. Shrap dumped mini-'flave and I off and then he went back to town to get the breakfast he wouldn't let us have before heading out.
Mini and myself headed up to the top where the elk were spotted. I'd say it was 1K' up. Wind in our face and moving west toward the elk we were more than a little confident the whole time. We check location of the herd by cresting the ridge on occasion and getting within line of sight. Then we'd creep back toward the edge of the timber and continue our creeping.
Got within 200yds and low crawled up to a shooting position. Everything with headgear moved away but the cows were in a huge ball of couldn't shoot. Chambered a round and waited a bit as I figured there would be a loner some time soon and I'd smoke it. Opportunity was aaaaalmost there, but the last straggler had another cow moving behind her so I held off. No big deal, they dropped down into a draw with a bunch of timber but the opposite side was clear and I figured they'd reappear. Ranged it quick and it was 300yds to the other side. Well within range of my incredible deadliness.
As luck would have it, I didn't have to wait. There was a cow bedded on the other side. I'd have to thread the needle through a clearing in the timber but she was only 200yds out. The luck o 'flave rang again. As luck would further have it, I was able to stand and use a tree as a support. This elk hunting schit was gettin' easier by the second and I laughed as I thought about all the fugging morons in this world that think it's difficult. Further proving that God loves me, the cow stood up, and gave me a perfect broadside. I let the breath out, smiled and squeezed the trigger. "Click."
"Fugg..." as I rack the bolt and am rewarded with a jam. 'WTF?' I look in the chamber and sure as schit there is a round in there. 'Why will it not fire? Why will it not extract?' 'Fugg it... who cares...try it again.' I close the bolt and hold just behind the shoulder of the still there stupid ass cow. "Click."
I drop down to a knee and move back. 'WTF could be causing this?' I look around for a stick long enough to run down the barrel and then a thought enters my mind. 'It won't extract and it won't fire because it's a 22-250 case!' I angle the gun so I can see the headstamp in the sunlight and sure as Gruff is gay, I see "250 Win" light up in the chamber of my 7-08. "FUGGG!!!!"
I don't despair because I have a long history of luck outweighing my habitual habits of being a slob and procrastinator. I dump the mag and grab the Leatherman and start tapping against the stock. Mean time I am glancing at the opening where I saw the cow. She's gone, but since Christ still loves 'flave there are about 6 cows standing on the clearing I'd originally hoped they show up on. As I repeatedly whisper "C*nt, fugg, Wish I bought a Sako..." etc. I look back at the cows and as I do I hear "tink." I look in the snow and there is a 22-250 cartridge laying in the snow. "HAHAAHA! Fugg yeah!" I whisper.
Down and back to a ridge so I can take the shot. Just as I low crawl to the rocks I was going to shoot over, the last cow disappears into the timber. I know my luck never runs out, so I wait. Sure as schit... three more elk. All bulls.
So on that note, I dropped a few more expletives, and walked back to my son who was observing the whole time. He never looked so proud to know I'm probably not his real dad. Then, we got the fugg out of there.
The End.
Travis
I'm in tears reading this. LMAO!
I'm sure Travis was in tears when he was writing it too...
Damn good thing that 22-250 didn't go off in that bbl and did indeed, gut or ass-shot that fat cow , They'd still be out there lookin' fer the pore thing !
Maybe not directly related, But a goof-up nonetheless -------
At the ripe young age of 17 my pal Joe & I were going to do a one dayer up in the mtns and were gonna drive up the nite before and sleep in the car til hunt time . Joe showed up about 6 pm (dark & snowin like hell} the nite before and came in the house to chat with my Mom while I loaded my stuff in his car. My first trip was an armload of blankets, & huntin clothes and on the way out the door, I reached down & hooked my boot laces (tied together) with a finger under the clothes to carry them to the car. Keep in mind it was snowin' like crazy. Went back in to find Joe in a long discussion with Mom ! Finally , out we went into the storm ,piled into the car , and off we went. Got up into the Mtns fell asleep a few hrs and got up to don our hunt gear ,and lo & behold , my boots were not anywhere in the car ! I had worn a pair of shoes on the way up, but I did have a couple pairs extra of tall Boot socks . Well , after a moment or two of cussin' & contemplation , I pulled the boot socks right on over the shoes, and into the woods we went! We followed the trail in about a mile & when it ended , the snow got really deep ,so I took a stand right off the trail. Joe took off to my left , and went on in farther. 'Bout a half hour passed, and another hunter comes in along the trail,now being full daylight, He takes one look at me standin'there in the socks and just walks away shakin' his head! Couple hours later a nice Buck comes toward me from the way He went in , and I dropped him right close to the trail! We got home late, hung the Deer,and when Joe left, I hit the sack. When I got up the next morning, my Mom informed me that one of my Dad's hunt buddies had come by the nite before to drop off some venison from an earlier hunt. When I looked around for my boots and couldn't find them, I started to think back, and recalled carryin' 'em out to the car the nite before . Out I went with the snow shovel , and sure enuf, in short order uncovered my boots containing a pair of wool socks in each one, along with a thermos of coffee & one of vegetable soup in them; All smashed to bits inside the boots, from bein' run over , TWICE
I'm trying to figure out why he didn't make friends with one of those home owners and shoot one from their back porch. Either that or wait till evening when they come in to feed with the cows.
Col Travis likes to do it the hard way. You know, givem a freakin chance in this age of long range hihg powered telescopic gun rifle scope sights.
Some hunters of his skill prefer actions designed to limit their kill rather than being game hogs like Shrapnel who shoot for shooting their limit and using equipment appropriately designed for doing so.
Col Travis could have taken advantage of guns offered by Shrapnel but he took the road less traveled in order to give the game a sporting chance.
Rarely can any other hunter say he takes such a road less traveled.
Shrapnel, due to the title of this thread many fire memberd have been mislead into thinking Clark had eventually killed one (to wit: elke) dead.
Unfortunately the passsge of time reveals that esteemed position has as of yet been for all pracaticle purposes been unmet.
With respect to this unfortunate circumstance proving literary malfiesance i request that the midleading and innacurate title of your thread be at the least reconstructed to read something less misleading and certainly more accurate such as "Travis and his first elk punt" (or similar) which as you can easily see most represents the facts of true history.
That is what he is up to. I gave him a pep talk about getting eaten when camping in Grizzly country. If he packs enough heat, he may just get his first bear up there. Bears have eluded him much like the elk...
I advised him to practice his bear burrito impressions in his sleeping bag so that he would sleep better. He responded that he would be using a hammock. Would that be a bear pinata?
I will shoot a bull in October if a cow doesn't give me a shot first! Like above we eat the meat not just have jerky and summer sausage made to take to work.
My family and I rely on that meat to make us through the year. No way am I passing on a cow so I can find a rag horn to shoot.
Same here except I put in for cow tags every year and build up preference points until I get one about every 5 years. General season bulls taste real good, but that's not ever guaranteed in the 3% hunters success area I hunt. When I get any "bull" in this area it's a good one!! Even the tasty spikes
unfortunately there are lots of macho azzwipes around.
I wouldn't kill a bull unless it was a good one or one that needed to go, prefering to let em pass along genes until they are big enough for the wall...
We have passed lots of legal bulls looking for a cow...
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.. Oh, by the way, GFY travis....You should have taken shrappy up on his 300 wby offer. You probably wouldn't have even felt the recoil. Better luck next time..
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I'm guessing it wasn't all that long ago that you only communicated in clicks and grunts.