We have one more week of Marlins, then we’ll give some other guns a chance. However, after the 336 crushed the Model 94 Winchester in last week’s voting I am eager to see what happens in today’s Gun Fight. It’s an asymmetrical matchup: the Marlin 1894c squares off against a Glock 10mm pistol. Which is the better walking gun for pigs and whitetails?
You can argue—and many do—that pepper spray is a more effective bear stopper than any gun. We’ll leave that aside for now, because this blog is not called “The Spray Nut.” Instead, we’ll assume you have already debated guns vs. pepper spray and opted for a gun. (Or you may decide to carry both.)
Not surprisingly, I would tell you to take a shotgun over a handgun. Shotgun slugs have about three times the muzzle energy of a .44 magnum and make much bigger holes. Unless you are a practiced handgunner, a .44 magnum is a difficult gun to shoot straight—even at a very big target.
The question is not so much what you’ll be hunting as, will you be in bear country? I have hunted caribou in Alaska with a .270, .270 WSM, and 7mm Weatherby Magnum, and all three did fine. Except that, on the hunt where I had the 7mm, I was checked out by a young boar grizzly, who seemed to find the guide, my friend, and me mildly disappointing and wandered away. If he had been a mature boar grizzly, I might have wished for a much bigger rifle.
I’ve known, personally, two guides who had to kill bears (one a brown, the other a grizzly) who were trying to do the same to them. One guide did the job himself with a .416 wildcat. The other guide had a .44 Magnum revolver, and the attack took place very suddenly over the disputed carcass of a caribou. The guide told me that if his client had not stood his ground and shot very quickly and very accurately with a .338, he might not be there to tell me the story.
In my post of April 29, Happy Myles pointed out that African PH Alexander Lake, whose books I recommended, may have been a little creative with his facts. This is quite possible. Peter Barrett, who was Field & Stream’s Executive Editor and an experienced Africa hand, said the same thing. “Lake drew a long bow,” was how Peter put it.
I think that Lake was a typical writer of his time, not an exception. Having read just about all the bound volumes of Outdoor Life, Field & Stream, and Sports Afield that F&S used to have in its library, going all the way back to the First World War, I think that outdoor writing is a lot more honest now.
I’m old; I’m helpless; I’m feeble And the days of my youth have gone by It’s over the hill to the poorhouse I must wander alone there to die —19th century song sung by Flatt and Scruggs, which I find myself humming a lot these days.
But that’s not important now. Recently I’ve found myself writing about a lot of old (early 20th century) cartridges, and reflecting on the fact that most of them are anything but feeble.
One of the problems with something the size of the SHOT Show (This year’s set another record for size.) is that a great many deserving but non-glamorous items get lost in the herd. Here are two that deserve your attention and your money.
One of my greatest regrets as I shuffle off this mortal coil is that I’ve kept poor records of my hunting trips, or no records. If you’d like to end up at the end of the trail in better shape, record-wise, I suggest you get hold of Rite in the Rain’s Big Game Journal Kit. This weatherproof spiral-binder pad (and they are weatherproof, too, by God; I’ve used RiR pads for years) has listings for 35 items of information plus a blank reverse for any random intel you care to include.
This new shooting system from TrackingPoint takes fighter jet technology and applies it to long-range shooting. Here's how it works. First the shooter tags his target. Then the scope takes a ballistic formula accounting for distance, wind, elevation, temperature and a wide variety of other factors and tracks the target. The system only allows the shooter to fire when the reticle (or in this case an 'x') is in proper position to hit the target.
Back in the 1970s, Uncle Robert Brister told me that one of the most useful things any big-game hunter could own was a binocular in the 15x60 range. He said he never went elk hunting without one, and because I always did everything he said, I rushed right out and bought a Zeiss porro prism glass in 15x60 and it was exactly as he said, a highly specialized but invaluable tool if the circumstances were right. Of course, like a jerk, I sold them some years later, but recently I traded a lot of stuff and coughed up some cash and got another big glass in the same power range.
One of the cultural phenomena I observe in deer camps is the cornucopia* of sweets that seem to lie on every table that is not already cluttered by used socks, ammo boxes, or 25-year-old copies of Playboy. Grown men who would not dream of doing so under normal conditions gobble stuff that is guaranteed to give you diabetes before it even clears your descending colon.
In the camp that I most recently decorated with my presence, there was not only candy of all sorts, but boxes of Twinkies for the lowbrows and for the highbrows like myself, terrific coffee cake that would give you diabetes before it got past your duodenum. Of course I indulged. I’ve had to fight my weight since I was 11 years old, and for the rest of the year I stay away from the sugar, but in deer camp it’s different.
Yesterday I did something I never would have imagined doing even a few years ago: I stopped one pheasant short of a limit. Five minutes out of the car a rooster flushed at my feet and I shot it. About 10 minutes after that Jed pointed another. Since the landowner lets me hunt this farm a lot and he hunts himself from time to time, I decided two birds was enough even though the law allows a third. Any bird I didn’t shoot was one he or I could chase on another day.
It wouldn’t have been fair to Jed to put him up after 15 minutes so we hunted the rest of the farm. I told myself I would shoot another rooster only as a reward for a perfect point. We found a covey of quail, which I never shoot on this place. Jed pointed a single and I shot behind it so he would know quail are something we’re interested in.