Showing posts with label hog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hog. Show all posts

Wednesday, 27 May 2009

A Long Time Ago In A Galaxy Far Far Away...

As you either already know, or may have guessed, I enjoy a wide and diverse group of friends many of who are now scattered to the far corners of the galaxy.

Back in the day, when I was young, thin, and good looking [I said it was a longtime ago]. I was the manager of an awesome punk band, the punk band weren't like anything heard before or since, their music had some seriously diverse influences, and the members of the band had some seriously diverse friends.

LSP (Lone Star Parson) is a case in point, we've recently gotten back in touch after many, many years and for both of us there have been a few changes; LSP now lives in Texas, caring for his parishioners and hunting Hawgs in an english accent.

'Large rifle is a .303 Lee Enfield, No1. Mk IV - joy to shoot, accurate, stable and powerful as you like. Ten round mag's a definite plus and iron sights give quick target acquisition in the brush. All that to say nothing of the crash and thunder of the thing. Cheap too. The parishioners like it - they appreciate a priest they can shoot with and talk church.'

We'll be hearing more from LSP

Your Pal 
The Bushwacker
PS The punk band's singer is now a regular on Dr Who!
PPS LSP now has a cool blog of his own

Friday, 17 April 2009

I Want One - A Not So Occasional Series Pt8

Reading Holly's blog is always thought provoking (best comments section on the web - end of), but this time she's been provoking further attacks of the avarice that's afflicting this blog for a couple of posts!

As ever I've been thinking about a time [soon to come] when finances improve and I'll be able to buy myself a rifle of my own. Up until now I've mostly been thinking Swedish. But nothing's set in stone.
This weekend I've been looking at the Blaser 93 in all its myriad incarnations, including this conversion to rimfire.

The design is a modular marvel where every stock fits every action and every barrel.
Who says AR15 owners should have all the fun. And if I were to suddenly win the lottery how about their unique take on the double rifle?

Two side-by-side barrels and receivers. With each cycle of the bolt two cartridges are loaded simultaneously, like a classic side-by-side double rifle. But better. The magazine contains six cartridges and two in the barrels. Ideal for the really big pigs.

Albert I thought of you.

Maybe I should go German?

Your pal
The Bushwacker


Wednesday, 18 February 2009

Metsakaamera Or Wild Pig TV

This one may prove fruitful for any other armchair nature watchers. It's a game camera in Estonia that's becoming a bit of an internet phenomenon 75,000 people A DAY have logged on!

See what's happening NOW

The main site is linked here and they have several other cameras featured. I would tell you more about it, but to be honest I've already neglected my homework quite long enough.
Enjoy
your pal 
The Bushwacker.


Saturday, 8 March 2008

Hunting Kiwis


The Kiwi hunting culture has been in my thoughts lately, (better buy a bigger couch BoB), partially prompted by the aforementioned writings of Mr Crump, and by the copy of NZ Outdoor Hunting our mum brought back from a recent visit to see BoB, Mrs BoB and the Princess E (AKA the Littlest BoBster).

There’s an adage in bushcraft that ‘there’s no such thing as bad weather – just inappropriate clothing’ reports seem to suggest that these words may if fact form part of the New Zealand constitution. As they say on the south island ‘if you can’t see the top of the mountain it’s raining, if you can see the top of the mountain it’s about to rain’.

If ever there was a country generously endowed with mountains it’s NZ, they have their own Alps where Sir Edmund Hilary trained for his successful attempt on Everest. If you’ve seen The Lord of the Rings you’ll have a good idea of what the place looks like. If you’ve seen the ads currently running on UK TV you’ll know why I’m so keen. Viewed at a distance of half a world away the place seems to have a romance the suburban bush just lacks - I go fishing across town by scooter; they go fishing across mountains by helicopter. The hills they hover over are alive, not with the sound of music, but with the thunderous hooves of Red Stags and Elk. It’s so alive with them that the Rut is called ‘The Roar’ and the Kiwi’s have their own collective noun for deer – ‘a mob’.
There are other linguistic differences ‘Alright mate’ is a greeting not a proposition, and all utterances sound like questions, with rising intonation at the end of the sentence. BoB has enthusiastically taken on this linguistic tic, much to the amusement of his family and friends. Despite being a native daughter of New Zealand Mrs BoB speaks perfectly normally.

To read about it the place sounds like a nation founded by hunters, the Maori people brought pigs with them during their invasion and colonisation of the islands, and so did the British. These creatures have re-wilded themselves in the bush and grow to some pretty impressive sizes. Deer, Elk, Hare, Turkey, Pheasant and Mountain Goats have all been introduced and with no other predators are putting unsustainable pressure on the environment. So once again the ‘culinary solution’ must be deployed to save the environment! Yummy!

The contrast to life in the city was brought home to me when I saw that NZ Outdoor Hunting had published some pictures from the memory stick of a camera that was found in the back country, secure in the knowledge that someone would recognise the guy in the pictures and organise its return to him. Are these the nicest people in the world?
Maybe the old joke isn’t so much a joke as an advertisement

What do you call a polite Australian?
A New Zealander!

Will these crudely drawn stereotypes prove to be true?
Stay tuned.
Your pal
SBW

Photo credit

Friday, 30 November 2007

Swedish Survival Skills


I’ve been meaning to recommend Michel Blomgren and his site Bushcraft.se for a while. Not only is he very knowledgeable about the skills that will keep you comfortably alive should you get lost while in the forest, but he’s also a talented TV presenter who is not afraid to suffer, if it means imparting some knowledge.

If you do nothing else make sure you watch Episode 1 - Five points survival.
It could save you life, it will make an overnight stay in the woods more comfortable, and if you are trying to get your kids into the outdoors the skills he demonstrates are so simple you could be teaching them to your kids by this weekend. Genius!

Enjoy
Bushwacker

Sunday, 2 September 2007

I Want One - A Not So Occasional Series


Nosler Custom™ Model 48 Sporter
A 6.5-pound custom rifle. Chambered for the Winchester Short Magnum cartridges.
Fully protected against the worst conditions a hunt can offer, and served up with a twist.
The twist is, it's off the shelf for $2595 + Scope.

Hmmm Noslerrrrrrrr.

http://nosler.com/index.php?p=1&bullet=18

Friday, 24 August 2007

Battue: French For Bushwacking.


Battue: Whacking (or battering) bushes to flush out game animals.


I’m back, the sojourn to southern France is over and I’ve a few tails to tell you about, some of them fishy and some of them boorish.

But first the bad news; bad news for the boars, the french boar-hunting season gets under way next week and there are more double express rifles heading into the woods than ever stalked the African plains. And it’s bad news for me. I’m a long way from the Languedoc. Bah!

Like most things french, hunting ‘french style’ is very different to the aristocratic traditions of their english neighbours. Airs and graces are unnecessary, as are bespoke red coats and pedigree horses. No one is wearing a necktie. Where (and whether) you went to school is of no consequence. This is hunting ‘come as you are’. In France la chasse (the chase) is a great leveller. It’s for the rich and the poor, its enthusiasts are from the town and the country. The doctor with his exquisite double rifle stands alongside the barman with his great granddaddies under and over. While people with American hunting experience will recognise the camo and the slug guns, the french attitude to health and safety during le Battue will leave you, if not shaken, certainly very glad you brought along that blaze orange vest.

For la chasse there is no need to hang a tree stand and get to it before dawn, in france the hogs and bucks come to you. Every Sunday during the season at 8am, you down a couple of stiff drinks in the village square, then a drive out to the forest. The hunting association for the area will have elected a captain, and he will nominate who takes up position in the line, where the guns stand and wait, usually about fifty yards apart on the edge of the forest, and who runs with the dogs in le Battue or the team of beaters.

The beaters follow the dogs, which like their masters vary in temperament from the highly trained pedigree terrier, to the farmyard mutt. Brambles and bushes must be whacked, spiralling french horns are used for calling and despatching the hounds, with more blasts to signal to the line. This is hunting for the cooking pot. All game is fair game so as boars, rabbits and stags break cover they are turned towards the guns. Some of the beaters are also armed to insure nothing gets away. Chaos reigns. As the beaters near the line, and hopefully no one on the line has been shot this week, the horn blasts to tell the beaters to stop shooting and the line to turn to follow the fleeing prey.
Then its back to the village restaurant for a massive lunch with anything upwards of four courses and lots of wines and spirits before the whole thing begins again.

The season lasts until February – There’s still time to get out there. Wish me luck.

Asterix models