Found this cool vintage cigarette tin at the local markets yesterday for a few dollars. I’ve been trying to find a way to carry my .22lr rounds quietly and conveniently out in the paddocks. I hate things that rattle, don’t like having loose rounds in my pocket and a box of fifty is too bulky. So I lined it with some self adhesive foam rubber and now I have a tin that fits in my back or shirt pocket, is silent and actually fits perfectly in the top of the federal bulk ammo box. Carries about 30 rounds - more than enough for an afternoon stalking rabbits and whistling foxes.
Feral goat I took with my .243. Braved the weather, persevered in the hunt and was rewarded with this beautiful animal showing some great condition. Took some good cuts of meat, made some memories that will last a lifetime and enjoyed being out in the bush despite the challenging conditions. Good living.
Huge mobs of feral goats out here. Too bad Australia’s public land hunting laws are ridiculous - my .243W would of made short work of these.
So, when I reached 243 followers, I posted a pic of my .243W.
I have now reached 270 followers.
I HAVE A MIGHTY NEED!!!
Some more ‘roos… Beautiful animals.
Plenty of ‘roos around at the moment.
Britta was happy to be out on the trail. She blends in so well in this environment - total feral.
Hilux off road for the first time. Headed to the Sundowner trailhead for a short afternoon hike in the hills.
Special moments with my pup. It’s been a good long weekend so far…
No meditation like a hundred or so rounds at the 50 yard rimfire range…
Sunset over Broken Hill. Great way to spend the afternoon with my girlfriend and our pup.
Got up this morning and felt like I had entered an episode of Yukon Men.
"I have always tempered my killing with respect for the game pursued. I see the animal not only as a target, but as a living creature with more freedom than I will ever have. I take that life if I can, with regret as well as joy, and the sure knowledge that nature’s ways of fang and claw or exposure and starvation are a far crueler fate than I bestow."
- Fred Bear
I had this old single barrel 12 gauge out for cleaning so I decided to take a picture with some of my bushcraft and hunting gear. It was made by an unknown Brazilian company and is about 40 years old - but it’s comfortable to shoot, a handy gun in the field and the lock up is still as solid as I remember from my first hunting trips as a boy.
This shotgun was given to me by my uncle who is 65 years of age and no longer interested in walking the hills chasing rabbits. I’ve taken it out once so far since he gave it to me but unfortunately the rabbits and foxes I sighted were just out of shotgun range. But walking the fields in search of game has reminded me how lucky I was growing up to have men in my life who taught me to embrace the great outdoors. My grandfather taught me to fish - I lost count of the days I spent fishing the estuaries of the north coast - pulling in nice ‘keeper size’ flathead and the occasional whiting or bream. My uncle taught me to shoot on many camping trips growing up - walking the paddocks of an afternoon or spotlighting from the back of a ute at night. My father taught me to trap rabbits - setting them in the afternoon, checking them in the evening before rolling into the swag for a few hours sleep - then getting up in the pre-dawn darkness to check them again and usually bringing home a few cotton tails. He was taught by men who lived through the Great Depression and would set 200 traps a night and bring in dozens of rabbits of a morning to sell as a cheap source of protein when everyone was doing it tough.
The men in my family didn’t just teach me these important skills that I some day look forward to passing onto my sons and nephews - they ignited my passion for the outdoors, instilled in me a healthy respect for all animals, showed me the joy in rising early, taught me how to be safe with firearms, knives and tools and above all, did it with love, care and patience.
This gun is a reminder, not just of the rich history my family has in the outdoor pursuits (my father still tells stories of his grandfather running the hounds through the bush west of Sydney that is now densely populated suburbia), but also of the sort of man I would like to be. It reminds me of what a good role model is and does. It reminds me how important it is for young men to learn these skills - not just for the joy of hunting or fishing, but for all that it teaches you about patience, care and responsibility - qualities that I think are lacking in the world today.