Unboxing Review: 5.11 Tactical RUSH 12

 I was looking for a daypack that I could use; piggybacked on my larger packs, day-to-day around town, or as carry-on when traveling on the very cheapest of european airlines. The 5.11 Tactical brand has a growing following online so when the chance to test one of the packs came my way I jumped at it. I've chosen the Rush 12 which is 5.11's 22l day pack. This model is very popular with the EDC crowd, lots of pockets and attachment points for all your Every Day Carry needs, tactical and indeed practical.

Let's get this puppy out the box!

Made in China was once a synonym for crappy, not any more, this pack is well stitched together and the materials used are as good or better than the camping store brands. The body is in a grade 5.11 call 1050D cordura. Which seems pretty tough and has been given a waterproof coating. We'll test that in part 2.

There is another name for the EDC crowd - knick-knack collectors - so its popularity is no surprise with it's grand total of 16 pockets, compartments and slots. If you look on the EDC forums or British Blades you'll see people showing their minimalist day packs - Kifaru's E&E for example - which have been fitted with side pods, organisers and all kinds of pouches. Great fun to choose and collect, but buying a pack that you then spec-out with pouches to carry the EDCer or Mall Ninja's; three torches, compasses, survival capsules, assorted electronica, multi tool[s], multiple knives and, that most essential of items, a tin foil hat, will quickly double both the sticker price and weight. Another downside is that the uncompressed load will be increased; all those pouches shaking and wobbling about as you walk decreases stability which is uncomfortable then fatiguing. The other [main] downside is that if your choice had been from the Kifaru or Maxpedition ranges; you'd now have spent the price of one of their bigger packs which would have been able to take a wider variety of weights, and be a far nicer carry than a minimalist pack with loads of extras grafted on to it.

My criteria for a pack in this size is different to the bigger packs: its not for hunting and fishing trips, its more of a mobile desk or portable office organiser. It needs to; hold a laptop securely, some paper files, have slots for pens and pencils, assorted measuring tools, a place to keep laptop and phone chargers where the prongs of the plugs don't scratch other things in the pack, I also need it to carry a packed lunch and some water. If it can stow all that and carry a sweater or rain jacket its meeting my needs size wise, and if I don't have to spend an age rummaging for every little thing, all the better.

A very nice touch is the integral fleece-lined pocket for your glasses - its the sort of thing you'll use every day and its in the right place - accessed from the unopened pack. With other packs I've always had to add one as an accessory.

The Rush 12 has a dedicated pocket for either a bladder or laptop which is positioned just right to keep the weight as near to your spine as possible.

These tabs conceal ports, for both normal people and southpaws, for the tube from a water bladder, a nice touch with the spare port the perfect pathway for a lead to or from a solar charger.

A little extra thought for the lifting loop's design is a nice touch too.

A good sternum strap helps a lot with stability, I find this one rides a bit too high for me and will be modded with a couple of snap rings.

The two compression straps aren't doing a whole lot of compressing but seem up to the job of protecting the zip. I really like the strap-tidies, 5.11's are similar to ones Mystery Ranch sell as an extra, and way, way better than ITW Nexus Web Dominators which always seem to go missing.

The full opening panel is a worthwhile touch if the bag is to do duty as a mobile office.


These little panels work like Kiraru' Amor-grip an idea so good I can't see why more pack makers haven't copied it.

Here's where the magic happens:
By putting the laptop/tablet pocket as close to your spine as possible 5.11 have given the pack the best chance possible of it being a pleasant carry, an interesting knock-on effect is that the shoulder straps are mounted behind the weight which seems to have a cantilever effect holding the pack to your back and allowing far less vertical movement. Makes a big difference.

The Verdict:
If there's a spectrum of packs, from Walmart/Lidl at the cheap and nasty end to Kifaru at the heirloom quality and spendy end. 5.11 are over the centreline for quality and quite a way under it for price.
For those of you who suck a lemon at the thought of spending $300-$600 [+ import taxes] on a daysack made in a western oligarchy by people paid a living wage, 5.11's chinese made offerings, at around the $100 mark are worth a look.

A well thought out design, well made, out of suitable materials. Comes with many of the tweaks other brands sell as extras. At around $100 excellent value for money. Definitely a keeper.

The lovely people at Ready To Go Survival have the full range, either empty or pre-loaded with some very well thought out bug-out and medical kits. Good guys to deal with.

More Soon
Your pal
SBW

Deer Hunting In Paris: Book Review

Gotta flash this one up to you. A while back another former vegetarian Paula Lee got in touch saying 'we have some mutual friends and you might like my book'. I do, a lot. She is very very funny.



Deer Hunting in Paris: A Memoir of God, Guns, and Game Meat


Paula grew up in Maine, which has it's own Paris [who knew?] and lives in Paris [actual Paris], She lives the life of a european academic, she's got all the enthusiasm's of the ex-pat, knows where to eat, and all the cultural sights. The book really captures what its like to live in a foreign city, seeing all the things that are invisible in our home town's. One afternoon, sitting in the sunshine she's surfing a dating site 'for a friend' and sees a guy who piqued her curiosity, and happened to be from a few towns away from where she grew up.


Having moved an ocean away to take up the life of a european intellectual, the book is a record of her adventure rediscovering rural american life with her new boyfriend, who isn't above teasing his 'city-fied blue state girlfriend' . Some very funny scenes follow.

Paula leaps off the page, with her stories of a childhood being a minister's daughter as her korean family make their version of the american dream in rural Maine. Being a bit 'bookish' [to say the least] Paula also peppers the pages with snippets from some very obscure old books on hunting and eating. Through the accident of love she revisits her childhood through the eyes of a more worldly traveler. And its fucking hilarious.


Here are a few snippets from one of our emails conversations.


SBW: What's the best piece of 'woodsman's lore you've picked up?

PL: ...The part I liked best about that outing was Patrick smelling the snow to determine how old the rabbit tracks were. I am still not sure that technique works. He and his brother, my boyfriend John, love to try and convince me that certain "woodsman lore" is for real when it's actually just them making sh*t up.

SBW: In your book I get a sense of a very busy childhood - lessons, chores, work, the church etc Did you always have a wanderlust for travel? And why Paris - probably the second most 'up itself' city europe has to offer?

PL: Every girl wants to go Paris. It's just a question of "which" Paris: foodie Paris, fashion Paris, arty Paris, romantic Paris? I ended up with ratty Paris, which was just fine with me but I don't think it's good for tourism.

SBW: There's a great moment where you seem to see your own anthropomorphism; Homer the dog is either 'got' by coyotes or kidnapped - your new family don't seem that concerned by the fate of a working dog and not very good one at that - but you're still ' but its Homer!' imbuing him with personality, how did that change?

PL: Until I'd met Patrick's pack, I'd never experienced hunting dogs that actually hunt. They're like furry space aliens with wagging tails. Who knew that beagles thrill with doggy joy when there are real rabbits to chase instead of tennis balls?

SBW: In my experience the french are a lot more 'whole animal' than the English, with some americans in between and lots of your fellow countryman even more squeamish than the english, how long did it take you to adapt?

PL: Never understood the squeamish thing. I'll put it this way: for Christmas, John bought me muck boots to wear when shoveling manure, a new skinning knife, and a meat grinder to make venison sausage. I was very happy.

SBW: Why do you hide 'Guns and Ammo' on a church day?
PL: Can't hide the actual guns.

SBW: Looking from the outside the 'culture wars' between americans who can read and americans who watch Fox seem laughable how would you describe them to an overseas observer?

PL: Well, I argue with the Fox News people and John reminds me that they can't hear me, being on television and all. So I guess that it's in a nutshell: a liberal trying to debate with talking heads who don't care what I say, and a conservative reminding a liberal that you can't change reality by yelling more loudly.

SBW: The "sighting my rifle' story is very good, you capture the moment very well, have you thought about buying him a laser bore-sight?

PL: What he really wants is a tank. You can get them on the internet.


SBW: My GF calls internet dating 'shopping for men' I loved the idea of you browsing on behalf of a friend and finding john - have you ever found anyone for anyone? I ask as a GBF found me for my GF.

PL: See: "Tank." You can find just about anything on Amazon. Including frozen whole rabbits.

SBW: Does john ever come to paris to visit you, and does he hunt in france?

PL: John came to France. And to England. He didn't come to Korea. Poor guy finally got so exasperated by my month-long disappearances that we broke up. Then I came back; we had a huge row, and after a Bonobo-monkey-like negotiation session we resumed our relationship. It would be a thrill to hunt in France but have no idea how to arrange that. It's difficult enough to arrange in Massachusetts (a blue state made up of "readers," very anti-hunting).

SBW: When we were emailing about these questions you were skinning a 6 point buck with one hand and texting me with the other, and in the book you express an unfulfilled interest in tanning, have you learned to brain tan?

PL: "Have you learned to brain tan?" Trying saying that in an elevator! So far, it's coyote bait and a bit of suet for the chickadees.

SBW: I used to see a blogger from Massachusetts and she characterised / mocked the bostonians for including the word[s] 'wicked-awesome' in every sentence, was she being unfair?

PL: It is a wicked awesome place except for the Massholes who live here.

You can find her book on Amazon HERE

This post was brought to you, by me and the lovely people at Grammarly, I use Grammarly's free plagiarism checker because encouraging people to do their own writing instead of plagiarizing will make them better writers, I think of it as an act of kindness. It's also 'wicked-awesome' for confirming citations, which can come in very handy.
More soon
SBW

Dude You're Screwed. With Pathfinder Tom

'Tomahawk is a snaggle toothed, piratical, bacon eating, cigar smoking, borderline alcoholic, that travels the world, exploring wilderness areas and seeing the sites. He can often be found in 3rd world bars telling drunken "I was there" stories to impress tourists.' - from Tom's blog

Been a while since one of the gang appeared on TV, this time its the blogger known as Pathfinder Tom showing us how its done on a show for Discovery called 'Dude You're Screwed'.

The premise is a simple one; a group of survival experts gather together and take it in turns to kidnap each other, with the kidnapped guy being dropped off in some inhospitable terrain, and having to find his way out. His progress may or may not be hindered by some stuff the others have 'gifted' him to carry along. The show manages to avoid the stunts and sensationalism or earnestness, and instead has guys who know their shit and are having a laugh out MacGyver-ing each other on a lads weekend away. Kind of Bushcraft-TopGear?

Tom is cast in the role of  the group's  'wise old guy' or Zen-sage. Who does less to achieve more and wins without competing. All whilst lugging along; a bunch of flowers, some anti freeze, and golf bag, that the other contestants have chosen for him.

I was pleased to see 'wise' as one of the characters the producers had chosen, we've seen military-guy vs earth-guy on these shows before so widening the casting made a refreshing change, for once even that great stereotype of american TV 'British-guy' wasn't of the Hugh Grant mould. Of course the difficulties inherent in filming mean that there is a staged quality to some of the scenes, but I massively prefer that to stunt-cam style where voice overs saying "here's one the production crew got ready while I was still asleep in the hotel" have to be added later. For me by being honestly fake the show was better than those who have tried to fake honesty. So far, so zen.

Followers of Toms blog, will know that while the rest of us are [to varying degrees] playing at it, Tom lives off grid well over 300 days a year. He does a bit of contracting, teaches at Jack Mountain Bushcraft School, or guides, but for the most part he just seems to enjoy himself traveling and living off the land or from things dumped at the fringes of 'civilisation'.
While every other 'survival dude' on tv seems to have a bag, clothing range or knife to endorse, his survival knife is at least 20 years old and cost less than $20. Most of the rest of his gear is literally dumpster-dived. I've been reading his blog for years and I can't remember him once recommending any particular brand of anything, other than Johnny Walker.
Tom lives as near to free as you can - both feet in the wild, and just a toehold in the modern world. Interesting chap, on TV he seems just like he does on the pages of his blog, which I guess is what this storytelling malarky is all about?

Well worth a watch
More soon
SBW

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.

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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

Deer Stalking In Wiltshire Pt2

I'm 'real life' friends with a few readers of this blog, occasionally I get the time to do a bit of hanging-out with them.  HunterX and I did a bit of unsuccessful Deer Stalking together and this year we've been fishing and having our two-man reading circle, [or as there are only two of us participating should that be hunting-book-tennis?].

HunterX has joined a wonderful deer stalking lease. Where as youngest member its fallen to him to set up the larder and highseats. He roped your pal SBW and our new friend HunterY into helping prepare for the season.

As per usual women, work, and kids conspire and we're a little behind time by the time we all have a clear saturday for the work party. It's also the hottest day of the year and the bracken is both high and crawling with Ticks.

I have to hand it to HunterX he is one of only two people in town who get up earlier than me, sitting outside my place at ungodly o'clock. Chipper as you like. HunterY on the other hand keeps the same hours as Elfa and seems completely non-plussed when we rock up at his flat to collect him on the way out of town. So much for 'we leave before dawn'.

The drive is the usual stuff: animals I've shot, places I've shot them, eccentric deerstalkers I know, cunning plans that have worked out, cunning plans that have not worked out, calibres I would own if I could, knifemakers and knife design. the proper proportion of rusk in an english sausage, and we're soon on the ground.
The last leaseholder has taken his tree stands on to the next place so we spend the morning measuring up and the afternoon strapping highseats to trees. There's a lot of cutting back to be done but thankfully we're joined by another member GentlemanD who has pretty much everything from the Stihl catalogue, all in perfect working order so no fires or nasty surprises this time.

Once the seats are done we drop the tools back to GentlemanD who it turns out has a giant pile of heads in his backyard. Really well over a couple of cubes of them, this guy has shot a lot of big Fallow. GentlemanD lives up to his name and is kind enough to give me the rather wonderful Fallow head at the top of the page. Fallow do get a fair bit bigger than this, but usually only in deer parks, this chap lived wild and free until GentlemanD's super custom .243 brought him home to dinner.

So much for me and HunterY's woefully optimistic 'it'll only take an afternoon'
The next couple of saturdays are a little more tense as we have to overcome a few electrical and plumbing conundrums in the cowshed. Quite a few baking hot hours later the chiller hums to life, the scales are hung, the hoist works, and the fly zapper zaps. All good.

As the afternoons cool off and our work is done for the day, we set off on a few practice stalks with an unloaded rifle. The Fallow are still in mixed sex groups and are taking advantage of the closed season to munch their way through the tenant farmers crops. Stalking without glass you can really see the value of stalking with glass, in one memorable encounter we stalk a Doe and follower, who then become two spaniels before swishing their tails to confirm their shetland pony-ness. We dryfire at a couple of opportunities, blow a couple of opportunities by stumbling about in heavy workwear, and generally look forward to the Fallow buck season's start on the 1st of August.

On the way home we stop off for Kebabs [keybobs for readers in the USofA] at HunterY's 'bab shop of choice. London has a lot of Kebab shops and they run the gamut from; processed mechanically recovered meat - which means a pressure washer and a sieve - to sublime hunks of incredible lamb, stacks of quail and chicken marinated in angel's tears. All served with a hand-cart full of salad and flat bread made in front of you. The really good ones serve offal too, great quivering lumps of liver, and what are those white things?
HunterY "Testicales, lambs balls dude"
SBW "Great! mark me down for some of them"
My first few attempts at ordering are taken as piss-taking by the guys behind the counter and are greeted with much hilarity, only when regular customer HunterY intervenes do they end up on the Mangal (grill).

HunterX suddenly morphs from roughty-toughty-hunting-dude to big-girls-blouse and sits, looking on, appalled. HunterY tries one and agrees that "they taste like brains, just with a more meaty texture"

More stalking and eating soon
SBW

Weekend Reading: From Adnan Sarwar

Been a while since I did a post about blogs that are worth reading. I've been chatting online with an interesting writer called Adnan Sarwar whose work on Sabotage Times I'd been reading over that last few weeks. His series Confessions of a Muslim Squaddie is both a coming of age tale and an interesting insight into the gap between disillusion and duty. Funny too.

Adnan Sarwar is a former British soldier who wrote a diary while serving in the Iraq War of 2003 and since leaving the military has written for The Guardian, Taki’s Mag, Channel 4 News and the Burnley Express. He has been a military adviser to the BBC and ITV for war drama scripts and acted in films, dramas and at the theatre. 

What do you do when you're the only Muslim in the squad and your leader gives you a dead rabbit?

From his story: Corporal and the Rabbit 

Corporal McBride had a Muslim in his section and had a lot of questions for him. What’s all this praying about? Five times a day? Fasting? Mecca? And if I’m honest I didn’t know much about it but I was the Muslim so I was meant to be the expert, I tried to keep up appearances as far and long as I could. During an exercise while digging a trench to sleep in, Corporal Mac asked me ‘What’s this Halal thing all about?’ I told him the animal had to be killed slitting the jugular vein at the throat, he asked why and I told him what I’d been told which was that it was to kill the animal quickly with the least amount of pain. He said he didn’t believe that would happen and asked why not just shoot it? Oh, I don’t know Corporal Mac, all I know is I need to dig this hole so I can get some rest in the soil. Look, I told him Allah had said it had to be done that way so we the Muslims did it that way, it’s just the way it was. He then asked what would happen if you went hunting and had to shoot an animal, could you eat it? I said you still had to slit the jugular vein and pray on it. He then asked what if you had found an animal dead in the woods, I said the same would apply not really knowing, all my answers were to cut throats and bleed. My parents bought meat from the Halal butchers and hadn’t killed it themselves but here in the army things were different. He told me it was a peculiar way to kill something and left me to my digging. Good I thought, hopefully there’ll be no more questions, I can’t be both digging a hole and an expert on Islam, I’m too tired today. I want to dig the earth, make a berm with it, clean my rifle, get into my sleeping bag and go to sleep until somebody gets me up for guard duty. No more questions, Corporal Mac.

The ground was soft from the rain which made it easier to bite into with the shovel but dirtied the sleeping bags and mats. I didn’t mind, didn’t mind at all, sleep was my goal and I could sleep anywhere, even in the damp soil. My eyes wouldn’t mind the wet, they just wanted to close. Once I’d rolled out my sleeping mat and put my sleeping bag down and laid on it, it felt just fine and made me smile. I was near sleep. I was sharing the hole with a friend, another soldier, and in between the two sleeping bags rested our rifles to be cleaned and cookers on which we boiled meals in mess tins. Every so often after the hard work was done for the day, I’d catch moments like this and remember how much I loved the army. Loved the digging despite being dirty, loved the soil despite it being wet. I had all an animal needed, shelter in my little earthy hole with a poncho over to keep away the rain, food in my ration boxes and drink in my water bottle, a little fire going which I could get warm off and watch and play my fingers into, and if you tried to attack me, I had a gun - bullets were my teeth. It was all I ever needed. The army wouldn’t allow me one but this would could be made higher than perfect by adding a small transistor radio. The rain outside could do what it wanted, I was under my camouflage poncho drinking a hot brew and if you came my way, I’d shoot you, listening to the Shipping Forecast, if they’d let me. Forties, Cromarty, Forth, Bang Bang you’re dead.

The army issued me Halal ration boxes and the lads would always want to swap my Chicken Tikka Massala meals for theirs. We sometimes mixed them all up in a mess tin and got a big stew going. Nothing could touch us here in our little holes with a little fire going, if Corporal Mac let us relax a bit we’d get a right old chat on in the hole all huddled in talking about where we were from, fights at school, girls we liked, and I’d stir the pot for us all. But not today. Corporal Mac came back smiling with an air rifle in one hand and a dead rabbit by the ears in the other hand. “Halal this, then,” he said as he put the rabbit in front of my hole. READ MORE HERE and you can find him on Twitter @adnansarwar

More soon

SBW

Kelly Kettle Brew Kit

The idea of a Brew-kit is to have a pocketable way of making Tea. People have tried hexamine tablets - tiresome in my book. Those really nifty little stoves made from a Pepsi can, or a Swedish Army Trangia - both good but slow. The best option is the power of the small gas canister stoves - much the best. I thought I'd press my Kelly Kettle into service.
I'm told the KK started out as a brew kit for Irish seaweed gatherers; its fairly windproof, it can be carried full of water, and fuel can be gathered as and when you need it. That last bit can prove a bit problematic, there's always wood, just sometimes not a lot of it is dry. So here's an option I thought I'd try out


I took an old air rifle pellet tin and filled it with rolled corrugated cardboard to make the wick


I broke up a few Nightlights, any small cheap candle will do

 Melted them in the Microwave

Poured the wax over cardboard - if I was smart I'd have used one or more of the wicks to make it easier to get the cardboard to ignite

 As you can see it was a bit of a struggle to get it up to full burn

 Still not burning strongly

 Once it was finally ablaze it produced a decent amount of heat, but from cold tap water to a rolling boil did take 12 minutes from lighting to boiling, which isn't that quick in anyone's book.

 I'm hoping that the now pre-chared cardboard will get fully alight a bit quicker next time. We'll see?

More soon
SBW