Deer Hunting In The UK Pt 8

Me and hunterX are up to our usual tricks, well no, strangely we're not.
In a surprise turn of events we have just returned from the shortest and most efficient deer hunt yet. Regular readers may share my surprise.

Intended meet up 5.15am
Actual time 5.20am
So far not too shabby, above par even.

The biggest of the tunnels that let you drive under the river Thames is shut.
Re-route to a bridge crossing. Additional time 20 mins
Only to be expected. So far so good

Drive across Kent on deserted roads, time saved 25 minutes, back on schedule which in real terms, given our record, is ahead of schedule!

Out the truck, coats on, through the gate, round in chamber, close the gate behind us, and the sun peeks over the horizon. Made it!

There are two school's of thought with regard to the best way to approach a treestand or highseat; be in the seat as the dawn breaks, possibly having walked past or spooked the only opportunity you were going to see that day, or stalk to the seat in the breaking light. HunterX is a believer in the latter.

The ride that leads through the woods is sodden. Somewhere between stalking and squelching we make our way down it, on our left as the ground rises in the thickly planted coppice, something is proper crashing about, but it's well out of sight, we clear the worst of the mud, and there is even some semblance of stealth to our stalking when still out of sight more chaos breaks out in the woods.

We clamber into a box on legs that could best be described as a hybrid between; a piss-poor attempt to package a large item, a deer stand, and favela's least desirable residence.

Sitting in the box we settle to the wait, the gloaming brightens. I've propped my elbows on my knees so my binos stay in front of my eyes with no effort at all, my whole field of view is a jumble of brambles and the thin trunks of coppiced sweet chestnut. I'm drawn from my reverie by a flicker of movement, my head involuntarily turning right, through the glasses I see a leg, a grey leg.

The next section of this report comes from SBW's Internal Dialogue:

Excitable voice:
A WOLF it's an effing WOLF!

Dispassionate/patronising voice:
No SBW there are no wild Wolves in kent, I think you'll find its the front leg of a Fallow doe

I give HunterX a nudge, and pass him the glasses, he swaps me the Sako85. Now with the reduced field of view offered by the scope, I've got to find the leg and its owner in the thick coppice. For what seems an age I scan amongst the brownish-grey's looking for the greyish-brown of the Fallow doe. At last I can settle the cross hairs on her heart.

HunterX whispers: 'If you can now, or wait until she walks forward to the clear path.'

Days don't seize themselves, so I let the weight of my finger break the trigger and with the bang she turns and runs.

I'm still trying to find her in the scope again, as HunterX works the bolt muttering something about 'two man battery' but she's long gone.

We sit and speculate, waiting for ten minutes to amble past. The morning is brightening and we clamber out of our woodland favela and start to walk towards the spot where she stood. There's a small splash of foamy pink blood. Clearly not my finest hour as a marksman.

The clues left in the leaf litter are beyond our fluency as trackers, so we resort to the widening circle, which soon yields the flash of white where she lies about twenty yards from where I shot her. I've clipped a lung alright but it's her liver that's taken the shot [back to air rifle practice for me], she's not run more than twenty yards.

The gralloch is without incident, and we make good pace back to town, so good in fact that by 10am I'm already back at her flat being bollocked by Elfa for walking into the house in my muddy boots.

More soon
SBW

Murray Carter: Knifemaker In The Yoshimoto Tradition

Carter from Cineastas on Vimeo.

Knives and filmmaking are, as ever, in my thoughts this week. I've been testing a knife by some canadian makers, and doing a little of the other kind of shooting - for my documentary about the making of the forgotten classic of London's soundsystem culture, Babylon.

So it was a delight when Tristan a director a Cineastas sent me a link to his film about Murray Carter; a Canadian who trained in Japan, eventually becoming the 17th Generation of Yoshimoto Bladesmith. Nice to watch skillful camera work of a master maker at his work.
While even his lower priced offerings will make most wives squeal '400 for a knife!' they represent pretty good value when you see what goes into making them. With Crimbo coming a bushwacker can dream, and drop hints.

Have a good weekend
your pal
SBW

Not This Dog's Day

SBW

Sgt Fulton And The Gun Dog

Sargent Fulton was clearly something of a legend with a rifle, winning the King's prize at Bisley not once but twice, little known is his inventiveness as a dog trainer. Watch and Weep Bambi Basher, watch and weep.

More soon
Your pal
SBW

From Pathe News 1926

M4 Tactical Crossbow Review Pt1

This ball bearing launching bad-boy is currently living at the LSP's place. The M4 tactical Crossbow was sent to us by the lovely people at TacticalZone.com
The M4 is a sweet set up, you even get the red-dot included in the package, for your $299

Physical Weight : 3.1kg (6.8lbs)

draw weight: 80kg(180 lbs )

Feeding mode : Manual

Effective range :75m (82 yards)

Overall size:72*54*29cm

In the Box

Wolf’s Eye Blue illuminating light

160 pellets of 8mm steel ball

LED Torchlight gun attachment

Red Dot Laser Sight

Gloves

Tools

Black Carrying Case
Early testing left chief range officer The LSP in no doubt that its a lot of fun, chrono testing in part 2! Will it work against Zombies though?

More soon
SBW

Obscure Outdoor Brands Pt1

All the best outdoor gear is made by companies, with rubbish websites - Truism

All kinds of people start outdoor goods companies, some of them make total crap [I've started a list it's HERE] some of them are driven by a need to prove a point to their former company, some sold the last co. but love to tinker with designs and keep their hand in. Some just go out of their way to behave strangely....

The Bambi Basher and I are heading north of the border in the new year for a week on the Hinds - stalking female Red Deer - and expecting the usual Caledonian weather I resolved to sort my 'cold but active' kit out.It's no secret that I favor kit made by people who use it themselves, and make it in small batches over kit made to a price by faceless corporations. Sometime this involves dealing with the foibles of the kind of company that swims against the stream.

A longtime ago the don of uk sporting journalists James Marchington posted that he'd flashed up the not inconsiderable cost of a fleece by XXXX, so after a subsequent post where he'd been out in all weathers I asked him if it lived up to its reputation and cost. "Better, you can see why so many keepers wear them on the hill". Searching online I found a website so bad that my first thought was that I'd gotten the wrong end of the stick and the company actually was based in New Zealand - home of the crap website.
In the years that have followed I've kept checking back and its still atrocious, tiny pictures of people who may be wearing the clothes, taken from angles that don't really let you know what the gear may or may not be like.There are quite a few online mentions of the brand, from Stalkers and Gamekeepers, universal in their praise, many citing the only drawback as being 'too warm for most of the year'. Keepers earn very little and spend all day every day mooching about in the cold and rain, while some get a clothing allowance, most have to spend it out of their own pocket. Their endorsement bodes well.

A couple of years ago while at a game fare,  I wandered over to the XXXX stand to learn a bit more. I had a very affable chat about jacket design with a distinguished looking gent and found that my hand had involuntarily grasped my bank card and was drawing it from my pocket. The website claims that any special requests could easily be accommodated, so in the light of our pleasant chat I asked if a couple of tweaks to the jacket were available. Scrub that, I'd only got as far as asking about the first when suddenly 'Dr No' (I assume the company's owner) burst into the conversation, making it abundantly clear, at volume, that no tweaking would be taking place on his watch. Dismayed, but not disheartened to the point of circumspection, I spent the money with another retailer where I got a thumping deal on a pair of Lundhags and change.

Fast forward to last week

I found a fella with a shop in Scotland who could do a bit of a deal on the brand, so I asked about another tweak I'd thought of; I'm a big fan of 'breeks' the traditional short field trousers of the british isles. I'm also a big fan of kneepads, I'd like to be able to fit kneepads into the breeks, he kindly got in touch with Dr No. Who lived down to expectations. Once again claiming that it was 'impossible' this time as the breeks would have to come further than the requisite four inches below the knee. Oh the horror!

More soon
Your pal
SBW

PICTURE CREDIT

And The Bunny Lived Hap....

Nature - now disney free!
SBW

Hank Shaw's Duck Duck Goose

We've waited a long time for this, there are plenty of books about game cookery that have a few pages dedicated to wildfowl, but there hasn't been a single work that puts all the wisdom in one place. Until now.

I've followed Hank Shaw's blog Hunter Angler Gardener Cook since it's first post, we've conversed by email and in the comments sections of our respective blogs. I am an unabashed fan of his writing, recipes and outlook on food and hunting.

There are lots of johnny-come-lately foodie bloggers, and frankly I'd trust most of them to tell me about the ambience of the eatery more than the food, some of them are very experienced customers, no bad thing, its all part of the deal. But if you wish to 'know' your ingredients, you must have put in your 'dirt time' hands on with the soil, walk the earth, gather and hunt from its fecundity.
The GF - Elfa, drank, and sold a lot of wine, but for her to feel her education had begun she had to make seasonal pilgrimages to the vineyard, to walk away from a planned harvest knowing another few days sunlight would take the crop to another level of ripeness, then crush the grapes with her bare feet, before her connection to the wines could become an almost living thing. I've seen a lot of wines sold, but passion will out. It's easy to fake the sincerity, but not the deep connection to the repast you serve.

I'd like to tell you some underdog-tale of how Hank's blog started from small beginnings and grew, but no, Hank was already an accomplished writer when he made his first post. He'd worked as a journalist for many years, he'd put himself through journalism school by slaving at a hot stove and he's walked the forests, fields and beaches with rod and rifle, with gun and basket. His books could be seen as a confluence of that time and many many evenings spent between the stove and the bookshelf.

The book hits AMAZON right about now

The book tour has started, so you can meet and more importantly EAT with Hank - the details are google mapped HERE

You can follow Hank on Facebook HERE

More soon
SBW

Education Is A Good Thing

"The Hunting season, where boys become men, and men become boys"
The Hunt  [a The Crucible for our times - very highly recommended]

On this side of the pond we have a system of voluntary hunter education, widely resisted by lots of older stalkers, widely praised by those who have attended.
The Deer Stalking Certificate is in two parts, the first like the American system - classroom and range based and the second completed afield, stalking in the presence of an accredited witness, more like the European system.
One great thing about the DSC1 is that its now recognised as a 'UK hunting licence' in europe and the states, making life easier for the traveling sportsman.

In the USofA and Canada you can take a course online for most states and provinces. Those lovely people at Huntercourse.com have the whole list, for example hunter education Alabama, and hopefully they'll come to europe soon, as I'd love to be able to study the German sylabus in english.

“There was something delightfully intimate about the relationship between predator and prey.”
― Nenia Campbell,

More soon

SBW

PS If you'd like to be one of the Lovely People sponsoring this blog email me regarding your product or service. Testing 'on the hill' commences second week of next year and pre-season training will begin again soon.

Hoodrat 'Served'

Not a lot to do with hunting or bushcraft, but an amusing incident

I was standing in the street waiting for a cab, dressed in building site clothes, with a large coil of pipe, a fold-up ladder and a HOOJ toolbox.
A teenage chav with a particularly annoying bum-fluff beard and horrid ball-cap is eyeing me up suspiciously.

Hoodrat: Officer, officer what's your badge number?

I ignore him

Hoodrat: Ay Federale, what you watching me for?

After a while he's joined by two of his little chums, they cross the road and one of them comes up to me

2nd Hoodrat  [pointing at my pile of tools]" these two reckon you're undercover, but I'm not thinkin' that, how would you chase anyone with all-a-diss?

SBW [pointing to stomach] Or with this?

Hoodrat's 2: laughs

Hoodrat: He is he's undercover init!

SBW: [to 2nd hoodrat] If I'm undercover your mate's a real gangster

Hoodrat's 2 and 3 crack up laughing

Hoodrat: Yeah you're funny

2nd Hoodrat: ' Nah blood, face it, you've been served

Hoodrat's 2 and 3 crack up laughing

There SBW 'down with the kids' who'da thunk it?

More soon
SBW

Wild Boar Hunting: A Bit Close For Comfort?

Once he starts paying attention, he really gets it together.
I wonder if he'd worn the Kepi Blanc?
SBW

PS 'Seasons' publish a french hunting  DVD  full of wild and wacky french hunting exploits,
worth a look if you're over there

My Daughter The Anti Hunter

I was siting talking to my aunt. The conversation moved on to deer stalking, a sharp pain in my side announced that my daughter [TLB - the littlest bushwacker] was joining the conversation using Full-Contact Sign Language.

TLB: "Daddy STOP killing animals"
SBW: "You liked the venison we ate at Christmas, you didn't complain then"
TLB: " I know daddy, I wanted to say something, but it was so delicious!"

More soon
Your pal
SBW

Skull Pix pt?

This Skull road sign was spotted on the A22 by The Bambi Basher. Considering the over 250 rta's involving deer do far this year on that stretch of road alone it's plausible  they're all road kill !

SBW

Deer Stalking In Wiltshire Pt3

"I am SO going to blood you" HunterX

What is it about hunting? Really WTF is it? How can it be so hard to leave town in a timely manner? Especially as out of the season we could all gather together with our tools. Now with the prospect of yer actual shootable animals we struggle through the treacle of work commitments. Ai Yi Yi!

I'm on a construction site all day on the Friday, receiving regular changes and updates to our plans from HunterY who is at a fever pitch of excitement. By this time I'm just too dog-tired to care. The work get's done and I set off across town to meet HunterY who is still receiving regular travel updates from HunterX, he'll be leaving the office at 5.30 sharp, not before 7.00, make that 9.30, at the latest. Really. Anyone would think he was a plumber!

I'm passed out on HunterY's sofa by about 7.30 and oblivious to any further news of delayed departure. HunterX arrives at about 11.00 and we're off into the night. The truck blows a hole in its exhaust and we roar our way west.

The night is thick, all we'd need is the chirp of cicadas, and we'd be in Virginia on a summers night. We grab a little more sleep on the floor of a cow-shed and are on the ground a little late with the dawn is already breaking.

Leaving HunterY in a treestand HunterX and myself creep down a ride and deposit ourselves in a seat which overlooks the intersection of four rides, the long horse riding lanes that intersect the forest.

A Doe and her fawn appear from nowhere and mooch about for a while, out of season and in and out of view. Another Doe with a fawns and a follower appears. Again as if teleported in. Still and with baited breath we watch entranced, one of the Does seems to catch a hint of something on the eddying breeze, she acts weary but not enough to spook her and her young. A third group stroll into view Mum, this years fawn, last years fawn and hello who's this? Bringing up the rear with his nose to the ground is a rather handsome pricket, in his first year of having antlers, his coat white with a tinge of orange to him, strawberry blonde if you like. HunterX whispers "do you want to shoot him?" Muttering "that's why we're here, no?" I settle over the stock of the SAKO 85 and watch the shot present itself. One squeeze later, he staggers, describes a quick circle and crumples to the ground not 20 feet from where he received his .308 dinner invite.

To the disappointment of one commenter/troll I put a couple of fronds in his mouth, and wish him well. The deer not the Troll. I'm not what you'd call 'blessed with faith' myself but something atavistic stirred in my soul and it seemed appropriate to wish him well on his next adventure. I find all that whooping and high-fiveing on youtube a bit, well not to my taste, but at the same time some reflection of the moment seemed appropriate.

Just as I get to work bleeding the beast, HunterX surprises me with a handful of blood all over my face, this seems only to add to his delight. He keeps repeating 'I cant believe you're so calm" While it is exciting and wonderful to have meat on the ground again after all this time, I'm battered, I can hardly keep my eyes open. Wearily I accept his directions, "left a bit, no right, back a bit" as he takes the snap he shouts "that's animal husbandry right there!" As you can see in the picture at the top of the page - perfectly posed. Bah!

The gralloch is interrupted by the distant crack of an un-moderated 30-06, HunterY has meat on the ground too. As we work HunterX cuts off a slice of liver telling me
"In my family we always eat a bit of the liver when the animal is on the ground"
I'm not sure if this is actually true or he was just trying to claw back some dignity after being proven to be afraid of his dinner at the Kebab shop the weekend before.

Lots of stalkers abandon the liver and other offal at the gralloch or view them as dog food. What a waste! I've gotta recommend this practice to you, quivering, still at body temperature, fresh liver is one of the most amazing foods I've ever eaten. Delicious and then some. Woodland Sashimi.

With meat in the larder and all of us feeling battered-tired we beat an early retreat back to town, where I treat my flatmate to the surprise of finding me doing home butchery on the kitchen floor, before collapsing into bed to sleep the sleep of the dead.

An armed ramble with The Bambi Basher and Keeper Du Bois next and maybe another go at the Fallow Bucks.

More soon
SBW