Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Jackrabbit.

85-grain Ballistic Tip at around 3400

So that's why there are none around, Huntsman killed em all.

There still are a few around...he missed one down by Las Cruces.

It's rare that I get to hunt the darned things anymore, but when I do I am always amazed at how big they are. They seem to shrink in my memory, so when I walk up on the ones I get to shoot on those rare occasions, they seem....well, mongo!

One day my bud,Robert and I had been hunting coyotes in Loving Co, Texas. Least populated Co in either Texas or US at the time about 15 years ago before the oil fracking ruined thousands of miles of desert with oil facilities, pads, locations, gas plants, compressor stations and pipelines.

Heading for home 70 miles away one evening after a day of coyote hunting, he pulled up to a cattle guard with a single big swing pipe forming a gate. We had pulled up to a wide, heavily traveled cliche county road and I got out and was in the process of opening it when a loud shot startled crap out of me.

A coyote had been laying a bit to the left of the ranch road we were on and when I was unlocking the swing gate it busted under the ranch boundary barbed wire fence, across the county road, under the far side fence and nailed a jackrabbit about 30 yards past it.

My bud, Robert, killed it as it trotted off with its prize.

Robert could shoot maybe a bit better than l. He never hurried a shot unless he had to beat me killing a coyote coming in to a call, but even then he didnt rush enough to miss. He would see deer farther off across the country than what I even looked, but i could see critters closer to us in brush than him. We often surprised each other with what we saw.

I've seen him hit ravens flying leasurly buy with their up and down body motion with a scoped 22. It wasnt much of a feat for him to get 7 or 8 quail through the head with his little short barrel scoped Marlin 22 with micro groove rifling. A millionaire heavy equipment leasor who probably had a few hundred guns, he always reminded me of his $87 pawn shop deal.

I think he liked me because I could see stuff about as good as him and would beat him at times on shooting dove and quail. It hurt him sorely when I did. It didnt hurt that I would climb over fences his doves or quail or dead hog fell past and get it for him for few years after his surgery as he was kind of heavy and a bit delicate for a while until I toughened him up again. I often kidded him that I was cursed by having a tightwad, German Jew Aggie friend as a hunting buddy. I was exaggerating on a bit. He wasnt a Jew. I wish you could have seen the look on his face one day as we went down to a buds big deer lease near Ozona. We stopped at the Dairy Queen in Big Lake and he bought freaking barbee Q sauced fried chicken wings. We were driving out of town to kill 6 or 8 doe to help bring the ranch into TP&W recs when he offered me one. I took the paper bucket from him and threw it out the window at 70 mph. It was like he had to face the misery and unemployment and all.

He had been a big strong tough, hard driving, hard drinking, hard smoking West Texas guy who grew up working on workover and drilling rigs in the Monahans oilfields. His dad was a pumper and they ate a lot of quail, dove and rabbits.

He was a German and went to A&M. Fell over 35 years ago with a heart attack up on Capitan Mt, NM while hunting elk. He made it to his mule and 3 miles to camp and was taken to Ruidoso and on to Lubbock. Pretty much crippled after that for 15 years.

He heard I was a hunter and came in for an eye exam. I saw his elk ivory ring and pendant and we got to talking. He got on the heart transplant list later and lived a year or 2 in an apt in Houston waiting for a heart. Family would fill me in when they came in for an eye exam.

About 6 mo after the surgery I took him hunting. He could see and shoot and that was good enough for me. We were going quail hunting one Saturday morning and I got a call from an ER room in Monahans about a fairly fresh corneal "transplant" pt from Dallas who had popped a stitch in his eye. I had them come in and Robert, Jules (gsp)and I met them at the Eyes of Texas Clinic and Surgery Center.

Glued the wound together and fitted a bandage CL and the 35 yo guys dad was with him and asked what we were up to, dressed as we were. Told him we were going Qiail hunting. He said we ought to go with his boy I had worked on and his 4 buds who were out from Texarkana or somewhere to hunt on his ranch west of Peyote.

We followed the boys and hunted with them. I guess they werent much on shooting quail and his son only drove their jeep. We would jump a covey and head after them on foot. Robert was scared of getting another heart attack and would drag ass behind us.

We would pass by some of the hidden quail and Robert would stumble over some and they would flush. Sometimes walking back to the truck and jeep we would flush a straggler and it would fly back toward Robert. He didnt miss.

At the end of the day they had planned on cooking quail and getting drunk at the old ranch headquarters where they were spending the weekend, problem was, they only had 4 quail. They asked if we could spare a few and we said sure. We started counting the quail out from the box in the back of my truck and we had 24. I figure Robert got half.

They asked what the hell he had been doing to kill so many. He grinned and said he was just "hanging back".

We laughed over that term for 13 years.

Dayom I miss ole hanging back.

RIP, Robert, until we meet again.

Great story, Jag.

Good story Jag

Odd how the topic either fly, or die soon on this place. I just see an odd jack, snap a picture, post, and it goes three pages.

Most of my whizzbang threads go straight down, neve to be seen again.

I'm glad most of you liked the picture.

What pitcher, wabi? I gotta cell phone and cant see crap other than stubble.

Jack hid pretty good Ralph, in the center of the picture, long ears laid back flat.

We use to spot light them on the side of the rd up around Odessa when i was young, we'd use a baseball bat to wack em. they don't eat well.

Lord willing, I'll send u some pics. Maybe one of a real wabbit.

No harm, no foul...right?








So...how were those jackrabbit tenderloins?

Kamo, I've had old cowgals as pts raised on ranches many moons and decades ago tell me that jack rabbits are delish. You I would believe. How are they?

I know I sure enjoyed the stories and the pictures.

Sort of cyclic here. A serious plague when they get plentiful, eating everything and undercutting hay stacks. Then they'll die off and one will see few if any for several years.

Blacktail variety here: