Lamping The Night Away December 2008

[JohnGalway]

Tuesday December 16th

 

Well I was ever so slightly fed up, life, the Universe, all that jazz. Sometimes it just happens.

 

What had I to stay in for, I've a fine rifle in the safe, ammo, a good lamp and a fully charged battery. Time to head out and look for my good friend Charles. I'd been out was it last night or the night before that? I can't recall. I had three stands, did a bit of calling and the most exciting thing I saw was the neighbours horse. I kept the hill between myself and the remarkable moon that was rising. But, eventually it cleared the top of the hill and, well, time for home.

 

Tonight started out proper dark. Cloudy with occasional dirty showers, some hail, but mostly big determined drops riding on moderate but sometimes gusty wind.

 

Where to go. I think to myself it's a bit early in the season to blank where my sheep graze when they're not on the fenced farm, so I jump in the car and head off with my various bits and pieces. I decide to change my routine a bit and skip my usual early stands. I head on to an area I'd usually lamp later in the night. I've been out and about for a little bit, just see the odd sheep now and then, rise some woodcock I think?

 

I spot him first from across a stream, he's ambling down a rolling hill that has patches of rushes on it. At the bottom of the hill near the stream there's a path but the rushes are thicker here. I pick out my shooting position and get comfortable. Weaving in and out of stands of rushes my friend makes his way down towards a ford across the stream. It's a bit unfair I know where he's going but that's how it is. I pick a spot in my mind, if he stops there I'll send him to foxy heaven. He doesn't, he makes his way down near the ford and something catches his attention, he looks away from me and back up the hill. I'm thinking second fox but I can't exactly check right now. I squeeze off a shot, the rifle jumps and the boom of the gasses driving the bullet on is beautifully muted by the Peltor SportTac ear defenders.

 

I see my fox drop... and then bite himself...

 

Up he gets and away into the rushes. * Note at end of post.

 

I look for a good long time. But it's dark, he could be lying dead three feet from me in this jungle and I'd not see him. Unfortunately no dog available this time. Since I can't pick him up, I can't count him. But I am certain he's K.I.A. in that stand of rushes.

 

On the spur of the moment, since I'm nearby, I'm geared up and walking along a river. The majority of the time I don't see anything here, but sometimes I do and they present nice shots as the fox always assumes it's safe with so much water between us, almost 100 yards across in places.

 

Tonight must be a lucky night. I spy a lovely set of eyes coming around a corner on the far bank. I watch the fox for a time as it closes the distance, totally unworried about the lamp. When foxy passes me on the far side I must take my shot, the river widens even more at this point and my fox will soon be into some tall withered grass.

 

I give a little bark to stop Charles, quick look, the rifle jumps as the bullet crosses the water and my fox is dead before hearing the boom. Call it roughly 100 yards. I didn't go to pick up as it's a long way out of my way tonight. I'll go tomorrow when I've some time.

 

 

My next stop is a new bit of permission I picked up this month. As usual it was quite accidental, a conversation had in the local mart. We got to talking about foxes (try and stop me) and I got the invite to "sort mine out before lambing if you've time". Let me check my diary...

 

I parked up on an old track and spotted a fox straight away! He was a couple of hundred yards off at least, but not in clear view due to yet more rushes - we're truly blessed. The wind had gotten up quite a bit by the time I reached this area, and luckily it was blowing roughly from the fox to me. There was a brilliant hill for shooting from. I had been warned though, it's grazed tight and might be a little slippery...

 

After ripping the crotch of my waterproof trousers I crossed a sheep and barbed wire fence, crossed a drain and made my way along the hill to overlook the area the fox was mooching around in. He's slowly making his way towards me, ambling up along side a drain. Plenty of rushes around him but there's a lovely little clearing too with nice green grass (remember that stuff Danny?). I let him get about one third to a half way

through it, then he stops of his own accord to sniff something. Squeezing the Jewell trigger gently there's another muffled boom and my fox drops. I think he was just over the hundred yard mark. A well fed fox indeed.

 

 

So I'm lying there, and I carefully mark the spot the fox fell. You'd think that's the hard bit over now, right? Hah! I've got to go pick him up, and I'm looking down a very steep, wet, bare hill. Remember the slippery bit folks? Well I successfully navigated that slope on my arse once my heels had slid from under me. A timely reminder not to rely on your guns safety catch. I cross another fence, and another drain, take the required mug shot and happily make my way back to the car.

 

I cross the first fence - again making a hole in the water proofs !! One quick sweep of the lamp before I go and... Eh? Another fox! Heading for the body of the one I've just shot. For the third time tonight I cross the fence and, yeah you know the next bit. Slip and slide my way quickly to my first shooting position. This one's about 30 yards farther out and a little bit more cautious, maybe she heard the first shot? I'm using the amber filter on my Striker tonight, and I have to say I'm getting along with it really well. It does cut down the range a little but the foxes seem to like it and don't mind doing a bit of staring. This one is in thick rushes. She's not easy to see until she sits up on a little bump in the field and emerges from Rushville. I put the Nightforces crosshairs on the left hand side of her chest to account for any wind drift. A little pressure on the trigger and as Mr Hornady proves again, accurate, deadly, dependable. The vixen crumples into a heap and slides down off that bump.

 

Oh spiral staircaseit, I've to go down that hill again.

 

This time isn't so bad. I just stumble a bit near the end and manage to handle it with a little run. Over the fence, across the drain and I find my fox relatively easy for the ground she's in. I haul her up and lay her down next to the dog fox. I dread to think how I'd manage to find her if this was flatter land. Nice little vixen, call it 130 yards.

 

 

So, off up the hill again. Ah, no, I won't make the mistake twice. I sweep the amber beam carefully over the field once more, then I cross the shredder, sorry, fence.

 

Just about to put my gear away to head off home and I happen to sweep the land the far side of the track. I hadn't expected anything here as it's a lot higher and difficult to see much of it from where I was standing. Bloody hell, here's another fox! This one is bouncing along, a lot of speed, maybe a mate on it's mind. I scramble up the hill after crossing a much more agreeable fence. My fox isn't far away when I get there - out of breath. The phrase "Cat on a hot tin roof" came to my mind. This animal just wasn't going to stay in any one spot for more than half a second.

 

The battery in my caller was dead, I'd not checked it before leaving the house. I did, however, have my Primos mouse squeaker. I gave it a few squeezes after trying in vain to get the fox in my scope. After a time the fox reappeared on a hillock a couple of hundred yards distant. I'd no sooner dropped to the ground when Charles was away on his toes yet again. Alright pal, you're going to win this one I think. I see him one more time and I don't even bother going prone. We'll meet again buddy.

 

I've caught my breath again by this time. I really am an unfit b*****d, too much time spent fondling buttons on this computer methinks. I sweep the lamp around the area I can see. From my vantage point I can see half of the field I had shot those two foxes in. I could not believe my eyes...

 

There's a third fox in that field! As I'm looking he's entering it from the left. If he's heading for the two shot foxes I have a bit of a battle to get from where I am to a shooting spot. Off I go, slipping and sliding down this bare boggy hill. Please God, if I am to fall, please let my face take the impact not my stupidly expensive rifle...

 

Once again "shredder" takes it's toll, and this is at the low point I'm crossing it! Puffing and panting like, I only imagine, the Viagra trialists in a room full of... Let ye finish that one... I'm back on my favourite hill of the night. By the time I get there my fox has gone a different direction. He's a good 300+ yards away, following a small stream. Time to get "Mr. Squeaky" into action. Actually he's always in action, there's not a place I can put the damn thing where it won't squeak from time to time.

 

I give it my best mouse wishing to be eaten impression. Well, what do you know, we have a biter folks. I keep the lamps beam well off this one. He's got a bit of walking to do yet and I don't want to spook him. Every now and then I get a flash of eyes as he passes through gaps in the rushes. He's also going to avoid the two dead foxes, which suits me just fine, and continues to slowly make his way right to left across me trying to get down wind. I slightly change where I'll shoot from, I've to extend the bipod legs since the hill is now going away from me.

 

All of a sudden, after what must have been a particularly good and tasty sounding squeak he decides to close the gap a bit. Thump, thump, thump goes my heart. Now I get a bit cocky. Once he gets to within say two hundred yards I keep the amber beam on him. And he notices it. I get lucky, instead of him doing a runner he decides to take a more concealed careful approach through thicker cover instead of crossing some open bits of ground which made up the shorter route to me. He emerges from the rushes and meets a drain, turning side on to find a favourable crossing I seize the opportunity and shout to stop him. He looks, I fire, and that's number four in tonight's bag! Farmer will have a nice surprise in the morning seeing my hat trick of foxes on my debut there! The hill gets me good this time. I lose my footing completely, I've a split second decision to make, either land with all my fourteen stone weight on top of my rifle OR take off at a run and hope to God I don't go arse over elbow. I go for the sprint. It's not easy to run faster than you've done in a hell of a long time, in waterproofs, in muckboots, on ground that's steep and slippery as a bottle, with a rifle and bloody battery pack. I'm flat out by the bottom of the hill but still can't stop and have to navigate some ankle killing rocks at speed, if I'd stopped earlier I'd have left a skidmark for about forty yards and ended up arse over elbow in a drain/barbed wire fence/rocks - take your pick!

 

 

 

I'm defiantly going home now. Well maybe I'll just lamp some handy local farmers fields, and on maybe take the old track up in front of the hill, then I'll go home, I swear!

 

No sightings in the handy fields, usually a decent spot. Near where Sounder, Danny and I had our last sighting of their night up here. I never thought of taking ye up that old track but it was fairly late by that time anyway. Away up I go. Rise a few more birds, hear a brace of ducks off in the night somewhere.

 

Here in Connemara we have a lot of certain things, all decidedly useless. Water, bog, rock, rushes, gorse. This particular area is bog central, and with every decent bog comes an amount of squelching. As long as I keep on the track I can move quietly enough. But leave it and by God something, somehow, will give you away. Thankfully though that breeze is still blowing. I spy a suspicious eye well out on the bog. Honestly, I'm thinking it's a sheep looking at me funny. You lookin' at me wooly?

 

Seems I'm not finished as I find my feet leaving the track. It looks like there's just withered grass between me and a hillock I need to get to, but between that grass and the ground - if you can call it that - is an inch of water! Squelch, slob, squick, splash. And this is being quiet. I get to my hill and oh yeah, we have Klingons on the starboard bow Jim.

 

I'm creep up the hillock, there's a rock I can shoot from not ten yards distant. Just stay where you are foxy, no ones going to hurt you...

 

Ah, come on! Just as I go prone, she's gone.

 

After a few minutes I find out she's gone uphill to attempt to get down wind of me. This suits perfectly, uphill there's a wide flat marsh, downhill there's a series of small hillocks, old cutaway bogs and gullies, if nothing else I can watch where she goes.

 

I move to the other side of my hillock, thinking I'll get a shot from there. When I get settled I have to stifle a laugh, she's just scared a hare minding it's own business shitless, he takes off like a rocket with the initial shock but doesn't go too far, sitting up and making his presence known. I give "Mr. Squeaky" a try and now have a cautious but interested fox circling me. About half way to being downwind off me I've done something wrong. I figure I showed her too much of the lamp and she copped something was not quite as it should be. I see her turn tail and head off for a hillock, if she reaches it she's gone because I can't cross this marsh in any manner that could be likened to stealth. I give her a quick shout, she turns broadside and I quickly adjust for the crosswind. It's over in an instant, the rifle jumps, the muffled boom, but I don't see my fox drop?

 

As I navigate the marsh after taking my time to mark the spot I last saw her I am quietly confident of a successful kill. I had lined a small hillock up with two dark rocks. I started my search. Twenty minutes later and still no fox. I'm anxious to find her now, I don't want the night to end on this note. After another ten minutes of retracing my steps, looking between rocks, checking out flats, and pondering I have to give in to the fact I may well have missed. I retrace things in my mind, it was a quick shot yeah, but I'd allowed enough for the wind, I hadn't placed the crosshairs too high on the fox to miss over it, I hadn't jerked the trigger, and all of my other shots tonight, with a possible question mark over the first had been good, so what's happened here?

 

I'm thinking all that as I start up the next hillock, flashing the lamp back in one last gasp hope and BINGO! I see the glint of an open eye in the grass about thirty yards from where I shot her. Very much deceased, another vixen. Call the initial shot around 180 yards.

 

 

So, not a bad night. My best so far on my own. Four picked up, one more I know exactly where it fell. That first one, well, I can't count it unless I find it, given the rushes there I don't hold out a lot of hope as I've no dog available to me in that spot, I know that fox is there, I just can't prove it! If I'd stayed on my happy shooting hill I could possibly have taken out that fast moving fox at distance, but hindsight is a wonderful thing and if we made all the right decisions all the time, well, there'd be nothing to learn for next time I guess.

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*I have noticed tonight, that some of the foxes have run on a little bit after bullet impact. I can't yet explain why. My bullet placement is usually pretty decent, I don't think I pulled any shot tonight. This shooting business does give a person issues to ponder sometimes.

[nemasis243]

That was like reading war and peace, only kidding John great write up as always , a couple of cracking size Charlies there buddy great job

Have a great xmas all the best Andy

[JohnGalway]

That was like reading war and peace, only kidding John great write up as always , a couple of cracking size Charlies there buddy great job

Have a great xmas all the best Andy

 

Special Christmas edition Andy, had to be to combat all that crap TV that's around this time of year, help some poor soul pass five minutes (hopefully less boring lol).

 

Merry Christmas to you too

[grasshopper]

Oh i do enjoy a good write-up...and that certainly was

 

Sounds like you had a cracking night out there mate..well done!

 

Do you still have to wear snow shoes to get about on that er..fine ground of yours

[craigyboy]

nice goin john, very good write up and good result, been out twice this week myself and came home empty handed both times, think I did too good a job early on this year, last night I only saw 2 jumpy foxes over 400 acreas and on monday night only saw 1 on a smaller 100 acrea shoot, farmers are happy but its boring for me, still have a few other shoots tht hopefully will keep me going over the winter. Happy christmas lads, hope you have a good one, a couple of hours ago I stuffed and sewed the arse of the turkey, my mouth was watering

[JohnGalway]

Do you still have to wear snow shoes to get about on that er..fine ground of yours

 

I'd forgotten about the snow shoes! No need for them anymore though, I've perfected the walking on water routine

 

 

nice goin john, very good write up and good result, been out twice this week myself and came home empty handed both times, think I did too good a job early on this year, last night I only saw 2 jumpy foxes over 400 acreas and on monday night only saw 1 on a smaller 100 acrea shoot, farmers are happy but its boring for me, still have a few other shoots tht hopefully will keep me going over the winter. Happy christmas lads, hope you have a good one, a couple of hours ago I stuffed and sewed the arse of the turkey, my mouth was watering

 

Could be a good time to pay the hoodies and magpies extra attention Craigy? Had times like that myself though, I too get fed up going out and blanking. Going out less this year than others, hope that way I'll have more productive nights and also that a few extra foxes will escape to breed! Happy Christmas to you and yours bud

[6mmBR]

Bloody hell John, that must have taken some typing I know how much effort goes into putting up a post half of that length.

As usual thanks for taking the time out to share your exploits with us.

Bloody barbed wire, I don't know how many trousers have suffered that fate

I think my problem is I suffer from "ducks disease" my arse is to close to the ground

Have a very happy Xmas

Dave

[menial 1]

nice goin john, very good write up and good result, been out twice this week myself and came home empty handed both times, think I did too good a job early on this year, last night I only saw 2 jumpy foxes over 400 acreas and on monday night only saw 1 on a smaller 100 acrea shoot, farmers are happy but its boring for me, still have a few other shoots tht hopefully will keep me going over the winter. Happy christmas lads, hope you have a good one, a couple of hours ago I stuffed and sewed the arse of the turkey, my mouth was watering

Hope it was dead or I should think the turkey's eyes were watering

Pete.

[JohnGalway]

Bloody hell John, that must have taken some typing I know how much effort goes into putting up a post half of that length.

As usual thanks for taking the time out to share your exploits with us.

Bloody barbed wire, I don't know how many trousers have suffered that fate

I think my problem is I suffer from "ducks disease" my arse is to close to the ground

Have a very happy Xmas

Dave

 

I've got the same thing! My regular lamping buddy is always at me about barbed wire (am 6'3) for a tall lad you've an awful knack for getting hung by the... You can guess the rest lol.

[varminter]

Thanks John ,

What a fantastic writeup , i enjoyed that immensely!!!!!!

Well done on a cracking night and a Happy Christmas to you!!!!!!!!!!

All the best........................

RAY....................................

[SteveW]

Great shooting & superb write up buddy, I know exactly what you mean about trying different areas or trying stands at different times of the day or night.

Variety is the spice of life.

Merry Christmas & thanks for sharing John

 

Steve