Mention was made of rifle work and making ready for hunting season. And I figured I could post something at a later time explaining what some would call a ritual, but I would call a lifestyle that includes the actual hunting, rifle work, and ammunition manufacture.
I have to prepare every year because I buy new rifles or shotguns every off season that I want to hunt with every fall. I could, theoretically, have only one rifle and shotgun and hunt with them every year with only a modicum of preparation, but that’s boring.
So for birds, I get the new shotgun, and shoot skeet and sporting clays ad nauseam trying to acquaint myself with him or her before I hit the dove field, ponds, or “upland” areas chasing wild quail. After a few hundred rounds, I'm either dialed in with that shotgun, or I need to sell it to someone else. If it doesn't fit, you must acquit yourself of wasting your time.
For land critters, I start with a rifle. I usually get a new caliber I’ve read about, or fell in love with having bought a previous model in the same cartridge or caliber. The new rifle is usually a used model, and usually a Remington or a Marlin.
It almost always needs work done to it which is good because it satisfies the need in me to make a mark on my stuff.
I usually fix the trigger first, making the pull smoother, lighter, and better for consistent shots. And many times, the rifle will get a new stock, or have the old one refinished. If I can get one really cheap, then it's used for the "action" and will get a new barrel in a caliber and cartridge no one's ever heard of just to make me cool.
Then he or she gets a new scope and scope mounts. Usually something caliber appropriate with plenty of eye relief so I do not get busted in the eyebrow during recoil. This maybe the only certainty of the whole endevour as I can tell you the scope will be a Leupold.
As a reloader, I manufacture my own cartridges having purchased the bullets, propellants, cartridge cases, and primers before hand. Sometimes I have to purchase new cartridge specific dies before I can handload for the rifle, but not always.
Now, new rifle, new scope, and new cartridges all ride to the gun range to see how they all get along. Rifle is zeroed to hit 1.8” high at 100 yards and attention is paid to how closely the three or five bullets group together out there on my handmade grid targets. Strangly, this formula works for nearly all cartidges except ancient ones for those levered-actioned Marlins.
If the bullet holes are less than an inch apart, 1.8” high, then we’re done. Rifle is ready to kill. At 200 yards, the bullets will strike maybe two inches low, but that makes a four to five inch circle I can place the bullets in for fifty to 250 yards which is plenty accurate enough to kill anything with a heart-lung shot.
If the bullet holes are not so closely spaced, then the rifle gets worked on. It gets his or her barrel free-floated, or if it already is free-floated, it gets a pressure point. It may get re-crowned. It may get new bullets stuffed in its case, or a different powder as well.
There are an endless number of combinations when you reload as to powder selection, bullet selection (weights, brands, composition), case selections (brands—different internal volumes), and cartridge over all lengths that will affect accuracy. So I go through these until I get the ragged-hole effect I desire.
If I get a few cartridges that do not shoot well in a given rifle, then I practice shooting from field positions such as sitting, prone, and off my JB inspired hand made shooting sticks. At times I’ll shoot off hand, standing as well. It is this practice that will make a hunter proficient and humane. It is no fun. At 138 pounds, recoil can be troubling to say the least.
After that, the chosen one ragged-hole load is mass-produced to thirty or forty rounds and the rifle is stuck in the safe until we hit the woods. Then, after the hunts, the rifle is placed further back in the safe and rarely hunted with again as my ADD ass starts the whole process over with another year's accumulation of newer arms.
Clothes are chosen for earthy colours. Accessories are chosen for utility, phones are placed on vibrate. Knives are sharpened while watching TV at night. Batteries in flashlights changed. And neon orange hats are dug out of my closet. And hunting licenses are paid for and stuffed in wallet along with my Remington 1100 o-rings.
The places I hunt are scouted for sign of game. Are walked upon until I can find my way around after dark and before sunrise. I will choose trees to put a stand in, and I will chose spots to hunker down in under a poncho of burlap. Stand hunting is a game of careful napping, and still hunting is a careful game of pussy-footing.
But, none of this preparation counts as ritual. It’s all a pragmatic approach to killing swiftly, humanely, and necessarily. There’s nothing magical; it’s just a hobby wrapped up in a pastime, surrounded by a lifestyle.
The only ritual part, the honourable part, is the kneeling by whatever has been killed and looking into the eyes, and patting it on the side, the shoulder, and petting the hair, smoothing the ruffled feathers, spreading the wings, seeing, in your hands or by your side a beautiful, amazing creature up close.
And you think, or I do, like Coyote said in that book, “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t need to kill you now, but I did, and your life will not go to waste. We are connected, I too will die, but for now, you will live in me, your helices of protein will become me and you will be here too. You are beautiful and so was I today when I could hunt and be with you.”
I also have seen recently on a hunt to Vance County, NC the scrawny deer that are burdened by overpopulation and a lack of predators. Mention has to be made that I knowingly hunt at the discretion of our State Government and not a noble birthright. And that for now, the numbers of these animals has become so great that they are a danger to themselves and even the occasional motorist.
I skipped Pt. II
-rbm
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