West Texas Holliday

As I was cranking out the last few bullets and loading rifles and pistols in their cases, my wife walked into the gunroom with a quizzical look on her face. She paused for a moment surveying my gear, then spoke with a slight bit of hesitation: “Just how dangerous do you intend to be?” I knew it was going to be a good trip.

Our combined gear consisted of 7 rifles, 2 shotguns, 3 pistols, 2 spotlights, 2 bedrolls, some clothing, a disk-cooker, a Dutch oven, 2 onions, a dozen jalapeños, some tortillas, and a pound of bacon. We were traveling light, high speed low drag, looking for action. We chased the sun till it was gone then ran from the moon till we were there. Upon reaching the gate we loaded guns and began the carnage.

We arrived in and amongst the first hour of Thursday and let the ghosts out of dinner bunnies and target rabbits till about 4 thirty that morning, at which point the body began to give in. The mind recoiled in horror at the thought of shuttin er down before sunup, however our bodies and trigger fingers needed rest, so we made camp near the ole windmill.

Sunup caught us sleeping. We became active near the 8’oclock hour. Loaded our carcasses back in the truck and we shot back out to attempt to temporally quench our bloodlust, by bullet or buckshot. We rattled the cage of many a rabbit and decided to gun for some winged critters. Managed to knock down several quail and some ring-neck dove. Slid back to camp, hustled the boobs off our birds and gave them the bacon/jalapeño treatment and revitalized ourselves. Then back to more of the same through the night, and what a cold night it was. We laid around the fire fighting holes in our sleeping gear and arguing over whose turn it was to throw another log on the fire. The morning showed 28° on the truck thermometer.

Next day, turkeys were on the “To Kill” list. Setting in a box blind I rattled a flock with the 12ga about ½ hour after first light. They scattered, well all but one. I took another shot, basically out of spite, and threw the 12 into the corner of the stand, silence had been broken. I grabbed my .222 and kicked open the blind door. The birds were doing that run like hell’s hounds were after them kick up and fly, land, run, fly…thing they do when you go to blasting in and amongst them. The runners were safe as they were in and out of scrub so fast it would have been like playing Whack-a-Mole at 125yds. The flyers, on the other hand. I jacked down two of them, making this my first and second turkey to shoot from the air with a rifle. Less dramatic than I expected, honestly. The girth of the bird and the diminutive size of the bullet provided for no massive midair eruption of feathers as my minds eye had perceived it to be. They simply met their shadow. Well one did, the other hung in a mesquite tree. Alan got two that day, one I didn’t see, the other with a nice 70 yd neck shot, but I’m sure he will chime in to tell his side.

Speaking of nice shots, there were two that come to mind. One by each of us, however, I think mine was better. Alan dumped a jack at 123yds (I think, if it was longer, Alan will correct me, if shorter, he wont) at night with a high shoulder shot, elk style. Mine was on a small dove setting on a highline at 165yds. I gave him a taste of the 22-250 and knew it was pay dirt by Alan’s expression. Of course he made me call my shot before I gathered in the bird. I explained his head was moving too much for a target so I took the center of the neck. Well, I was off by about 1/8 inch, I blame the wind.

I could ramble on about our exploits, but I’ll just provide the tally and wait till we can pull all the boys together for more explanation of the exploits.

Ring Neck
Me: 4
Alan: 0
Total: 4

Quail
Me: 2
Alan: 5
Total: 7

Turkey
Me: 3
Alan: 2
Total: 5

Cottontail (aka Dinner Bunnies):
Me: 2
Alan: 3
Total: 5

Jack Rabbits (aka Target Rabbits):
Me: 46
Alan: 48
Total: 94

Miscellaneous
Me: 3
Alan: 4
Total: 7

Unconfirmed
Me: 5
Alan: 7
Total: 12

Thus bringing the total confirmed body count to 122. Alan in the lead with 62 to my 60. Amazingly close for the sheer volume of bullets we sent aflying. But here is where it gets interesting. If you subtract unconfirmed from the individual totals we are dead even at 55 apiece. Pics to follow after Thanksgiving, Alan has the camera.