Shotgun Bleg

Filed under:Commerce, Hunting, Woodsmanship — posted by Countertop on September 10, 2008 @ 9:09 am

So, my birthday is coming up next month, and in a little over 50 days we’ll have an election. And Hunting season is here. All adds up to - its time to buy another gun.

For awhile, I was thinking about plopping some change down on a Homeland Security Rifle - some evil liberal scaring nightmare rifle. But in recent weeks my thoughts have drifted towards something more Kerryesque - namely a nice side by side shotgun for bird hunting (don’t EVEN start on the idea of getting an O/U).

Now, I have a side by side - its a 12 gauge hardware gun that was my fathers. Its got some nice scroll work on it, and actually comes to point fine. But its a little heavy, and frankly it just isn’t as nice as some of the old school side by sides.

What I really want is a 16 gauge SxS. I have an old single shot 16 gauge - with some gorgeous walnut on it. But want a SxS. Unfortunately, I’ve yet to find one in my price range. So, I’m willing to look at 12’s and 20s and 28s. Amongst the guns I’m looking at is a German Guild Gun.

And thats where my question comes - what do they mean by Guild Gun?

And does anyone have info on German Guild Guns?

My Weekend

Filed under:Hunting, Personal Jesus, Retriver Trainer, Travel, We're from the Government, We're here to help, Woodsmanship, photography — posted by Countertop on August 11, 2008 @ 12:55 am

Well, there is something fundamentally wrong with the road system in Virginia. Somewhere, someone, screwed up in a tremendous way, and frankly I doubt this state will ever be able to fix what is wrong. And no, simply throwing money at Northern Virginia isn’t the solution - in fact, the idiots at VDOT have shown time and again that more money only leads to more ill considered worthless projects.

No, things need to be peeled back - and the entire morass needs to be examined and perhaps, if possible, ripped up and started all over.

Case in point:

I was supposed to do three things on Saturday. I was going to head down to meet my trainer and work with the dog. Then, I was going to head over to Richmond to the Virginia Sportsman’s Show - I had free tickets compliments of the Roanoke Times. Then, we were gonna race back up to NoVA and shoot some skeet.

We had it timed out right, but then we hit the Virginia road system.

Dog Training
Told the trainer, I’d be there at 10:30 with my buddy. We were gonna work the dog a couple of hours in the field . . . shooting some birds over him and working on different retrieving scenarios. I left, for the hour and 45 minute drive, at 8:30. No traffic at all, till I got to I-95 - and then just sat. And crawled. Finally making it to Fredericksburg at 10:30 and not getting down to his place till noon. Where I got to spend all of 15 minutes with him because I was so damn late.

Sportsman Show
We then left, drove on I64 over to Richmond. No problems here, and the sportsman show was neat. Great, impressive, buck collection. Someone clearly has better property to hunt than I do. Saw lots of neat hunting gadgets, almost bought a couple of duck calls, and got to speak with some hunting guides. All in all, it would have been worthwhile, except I was so ticked off about not getting to train with the dog it just ruined the whole experience for me.

Skeet Shooting
We raced on out of the Sportsman Show by 2:00pm, with what should have been a 90 minute drive on a lazy Saturday afternoon to get to shoot skeet. Heh. By 3:30 we had traveled 30 miles and reached Fredericksburg, where I tried to hop on VA17 to save time - and went 3 miles in 1 hour - before bailing and hopping back on 95. In another hour we moved another 25 miles and I was able to hop on VA 234 to cut across over to Mannassas. By then, it was nearly 6 and having sat in a car for 8 hours already it was too late to do much skeet shooting - so we hopped on I66 - and sat for another hour, not getting home till 7:30.

Thanks Virginia, For Ruining My Day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sunday
I made up for it Sunday.

Started the day looking at canoes. I think I found a great one - I’ll be testing it out tonight to see if I want to buy it. Its an Old Town Duck Hunter - about an 18 year old canoe - thats perfect for hunting as well as for trips down the river with the family.

From there, I threw my kayak in the Potomac at Pennyfield lock. It was a gorgeous ride.

I paddled up into the islands and explored them a bit, taking coordinates on my GPS and checking out how they had eroded since last duck season. Your not allowed to built permanent blinds on them, but we constructed a series of makeshift blinds with deadfalls, etc. last season that survived most of the winter. Unfortunatly, it doesn’t look like any survived the spring floods. Whats more, there was a fair bit of erosion going on, and some new channels opened up.

I ran into this guy right in front of one of our old blinds.






I also got out and did a bit of scouting in one of the areas I go deer hunting. The corn didn’t look so good, but they had a real healthy crop of beans. It should be a good season!

Food For Thought

Filed under:Firearms, Hunting, Pets, Woodsmanship — posted by Countertop on June 11, 2008 @ 1:05 pm

Keep these two quotes (both, incidentally, from Oregon), and their circumstances, in mind as you finish preparing comments to the Department of Interior on their proposal to restore the right of self defense in our national parks.

Now my eyes were locked on a crouching cougar on the opposite hill as I reloaded my 20 gauge with the biggest shot size I had with me–copper-coated number sixes. These weren’t quite the slugs I was to have carried. Right then I felt under-gunned and pretty dumb for not following through on my intuition.


Here’s a picture of that cougar. . .and you can read all about the writers encounter with him and his companion over at Gun Dogs Magazine

“And I’m really glad I had that gun.”

That’s Joshua McKim and the 400 pound cinnamon colored black bear that attacked him as he was mushroom picking with his family.

When the bear just up the hill roared, Joshua McKim’s first thought was that he had never heard a bear make a sound like that.

His second thought, almost instantaneous with the first, was that he was awfully glad he had brought his pistol on this mushroom-picking trip.

When he first glimpsed the bear through the thick brush, McKim had cocked the hammer on the .45 caliber semi-automatic Taurus, a copy of the famous 1911-model Colt.

The bear didn’t move.

Luckily, he was the one the bear attacked, as he was the only member of his group that carried a gun afield that day.

A dogs life

Filed under:Retriver Trainer, Woodsmanship — posted by Countertop on May 5, 2008 @ 6:57 am

Spent the weekend hanging with the dog. Yesterday, we went to Roosevelt Island for a nature walk. Saw a baby turtle, a bunch of ducks in the marsh, and two different snakes sunning themselves. That got the oldest pretty excited.

Oh, and we also went to the beach opposite the Georgetown waterfront and played fetch with Rex. He’s a little leary of going too far into the water - wont easily go up past his tummy but after sploshing around has no problem getting fully immersed, as long as he can still stand. Its not really a problem, yet, as he is still a puppy so I want to ease him into this.

I’m training him according to Dick Wolter’s Gun Dog book - which co0incides with the instructions he has received and will receive from Jack Jagoda (his breeder and trainer) later this summer (who, incidentally, is mentioned a number of times in the book).

The one thing Wolters recommends is playing it slow and letting the dog have fun in the water and get used to it at his own pace. We did that, and I further walked out with him into the river (the air was 80 degrees, but the river was fricken cold) and held him as he got a hang for paddling. It seemed to work for a second, but then he splashed around hitting the bottom again.

We did that for some time, and then some other dogs showed up which made it difficult to train, but made it very exciting for him to play. And, he is a playful puppy after all, so play they did. Of course, in playing with others (even dogs that aren’t nearly as trained as he is, he is still learning - and from these he learned a bit about swimming).

Incidentally, some bitch came walking up to the beach - and was just standing there amidst all the dogs, when she suddenly started yelling at them all to behave as they started coming up to snff her (as dogs do). She was clearly not a dog person, which begs the question, why would she put herself amidst 3 playing dogs????

The rest of the walk went well. Rex is really progressing, and I showed off some of the skills I was working on that morning to the wife - much to the amazement of others who saw him. For instance, he will know (largely) sit on (whistle) command from a distance and then stay till I release him. I was able to walk 150 yards away from him whistle him to come, and then stop him on a dime half way to me, to sit, until I released him again. Its a pretty basic skill, but still something to see in a little puppy.

Today, I took him over to the Izaak Walton league to introduce him to gun fire. Went first to the skeet range, backed my Cherokee up to the field I was on and opened the back with him in the crate. We shot 3 rounds of skeet (I sucked hard), with him there and then I went to the rifle range and played with the WASR (more on that later), in a similar setup (though he was a bit further away). Afterward, we jumped into the pond and splashed around. Without a beach, he was a lot more hesitant to jump, or even, crawl in so I laid off the training and just let him chill and play and splash.

Tonight, though, things got interesting. We had some chocolate cake for dinner, and my son got up without finishing his. It took only a second for the dog to jump up and grab it (a bad bad habit that seems terrible difficult to break - especially with my wife unwilling to properly discipline a puppy) so I ended up spending the night at the emergency vet clinic. They induced vomiting and gave him some medication, and kept us there for 4 hours. Oh, and it cost $389, which is a lot but not as bad as I thought it would be.

National Park Carry

Once a rule comes out, this is the comment I’m going to send in:

When seconds count, the police are days away

Hiker never gave up fight, Hilton said

By RHONDA COOK, CHRISTIAN BOONE
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 03/23/08

Gary Michael Hilton acknowledged that the petite woman nearly overpowered him when he first accosted her. As they struggled near the Appalachian Trail, Meredith Emerson disarmed her attacker of a knife and baton.

Hilton eventually subdued Emerson, kidnapped her and later killed her. She did not make it easy for him, according to interviews Hilton gave to investigators that were obtained by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

Speaking to Georgia Bureau of Investigation agent Clay Bridges only days after killing the young woman, Hilton said: “I think it was you probably, or one of the GBIs, said ‘That little 120-pound-girl about probably came close to whipping your ass.’ She about did.”

Her life in danger, Emerson fought back using her strength, her wits and a large measure of courage and determination. In the four days after she disappeared on a Blood Mountain hiking trail in Union County, investigators said, Emerson never gave up.

Bridges said he talked with the South Florida-born vagrant as authorities drove him from the Union County Jail to the Dawson Forest Wildlife Management Area, where Hilton killed Emerson. Hilton made a deal with prosecutors that he would lead investigators to her remains, if they would not seek the death penalty.

As they descended the winding North Georgia mountain roads, the Army veteran casually detailed the abduction and slaying of the 24-year-old University of Georgia graduate.

Bridges said Hilton clearly relished the attention, and authorities described his account as “self-serving.”

Still, Emerson’s tenacity and smarts are evident throughout, and, despite Hilton’s best attempts, her actions overwhelm the one-sided narrative.

“She was doing everything she could to stay alive,” GBI Director Vernon Keenan said. “It’s not something you can train for. Instinct kicks in. … She nearly got the best of him. … She’s very much a hero.”

Meredith Emerson was described as “feisty” by her roommate and close friend. Her Judo teacher said at 5 feet 4 inches and 120 pounds, she “trained with us like she lived every day — hard and with everything she had.”

Hilton, 61, told investigators he abducted her because she was a woman.

Easy prey, he figured.

‘Wouldn’t stop fighting’

Both were with their dogs when they met near the Appalachian Trail in Union County on New Year’s Day. For a time they walked together, but, as Hilton later admitted, he couldn’t keep up with her and fell behind. He intercepted her on her way down, producing a military-style knife and demanding her ATM card.

Without pause, Emerson fought back.

“The bayonet is probably still up there,” Hilton told Bridges. “I lost control, and … she fought. And as I read in the paper, she’s a martial artist.”

Emerson, who held a green belt and a blue belt in two different martial arts, grabbed the blade.

He countered with a baton. She grabbed it, too. They stepped off the trail and fell down a slope, leaving the weapons behind.

“I had to hand-fight her,” Hilton said. “She wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop fighting,” he said. “And yelling at the same time. … So I needed to both control her and silence her.”

He kept punching her, so hard it left both her eyes black and may have fractured her nose. Hilton said his hand was broken by the blows. He figured she had worn down, and they moved farther off the trail.

Then Emerson started fighting again. He finally got her to stop by telling her all he wanted was her credit card and PIN. He then restrained her hands with a zip tie.

Then, Hilton told Bridges, “I had to go back and clean the crime scene.”

But he couldn’t find any of his weapons. He said he spotted three hikers nearby and assumed they had found the knife and baton.

It was one of several close calls that continue to haunt Hilton’s captors. On at least three other occasions before he killed Emerson, Hilton crossed paths or was in the vicinity of law-enforcement officials.

On the day he abducted her, he was worried police officers might be waiting for him in the parking lot as he led Emerson back down the mountain, staying off the established trails. He assumed whoever retrieved his baton and knives had called police, or perhaps they had heard Emerson’s cries for help.

Apparently no one did.

Without incident, Hilton placed Emerson and her dog, Ella, in his van and secured his victim with a padlocked chain.

Chained or bound

In the following hours and days, Emerson kept Hilton off-balance by repeatedly giving him the wrong PIN for her ATM card but assuring each time that this time the numbers were correct.

She bought time with that ploy. Three days.

“That’s one thing that broke my heart in this case,” Bridges said. “She was doing everything she was supposed to do to stay alive, and we didn’t get there in time.”

In recounting conversations with Emerson, Hilton revealed himself as a killer without shame or remorse — and unwittingly provided testament to her resolve.

Hilton said he and Emerson camped all three nights during a spell of bitter cold.

To keep her from running away, he usually kept a chain or nylon rope around her neck and she was often tethered to a tree or inside the van. When they slept, Emerson was tied to him so he would know if she tried to escape.

Hilton claimed he tried to make Emerson comfortable, at one point saying he gave her the warmer sleeping bag because temperatures had dropped to 4 degrees. He offered her aspirin for a lingering headache that followed their fight the first day.

“I was solicitous of her … comfort and everything else,” said Hilton, seemingly oblivious to the contradiction.

Perhaps one of the most chilling details followed, as Hilton nonchalantly told Bridges, he raped Emerson that first night. He was angry she’d made him drive around from bank to bank and still had nothing to show for it.

Their second day together, Hilton set up camp in Dawson Forest, where they hiked for several hours. He insisted she was free, but he also said he told her he would shoot her and anyone around if she tried to get away.

“We took both dogs and went hiking along Shoal Creek,” Hilton said. He said she was not bound while they hiked.

If she appeared to be going along with her abductor, as Hilton described, Keenan said it was only to survive. “She struggled to live,” the GBI director said.

Hilton knew he was a wanted man, telling investigators he had followed the AJC’s coverage of Emerson’s abduction. On the day she died, Jan. 4, he was pictured on the newspaper’s front page alongside a story in which police named him a “person of interest” in the Buford hiker’s disappearance.

That day, Hilton said that he told Emerson “she was going home.”

“I said, ‘I’m giving you all your stuff back.’ I had all her stuff bagged up together. I made a point of showing her.”

They drove to the spot where he would kill her. On the way, they passed a law-enforcement officer.

“I waved at him,” Hilton said. “It was that close.”

Though a police bulletin had been issued for Hilton’s van with a DeKalb County license plate, by then he had switched that tag for a stolen North Carolina tag.

“I walked her into the woods,” Hilton said. He carried two sleeping bags, an air mattress “for her to sit on,” two bags and a chain.

“Secured her to a tree. Walked back to the van. Kinda got myself together. Made some coffee.”

Killing was difficult

When he came back to her, Hilton said with a little laugh, Emerson told him, ” ‘I was afraid you weren’t coming back.’ ”

He gave her a book to read, “Cannibals and Kings: Origins of Cultures” by Marvin Harris, walked behind her as if he were going to remove the chains holding her to the tree and hit her several times with the handle from a tire jack.

Hilton both killed and decapitated Emerson in a vain effort to destroy evidence that might incriminate him.

Hilton was worried about another piece of evidence that might link him to the slaying — Emerson’s dog. She had told him the Lab-mix carried a microchip identifying it as her pet.

“If I wanted to ensure that no one would associate the dog with her, I would’ve killed the dog,” Hilton said. “But there’s no way I could do that.”

He had no such reservations about killing Emerson.

“Was it difficult for you at all?” GBI agent Bridges asked after Hilton finished his account of the murder.

“It was like an out-of-body experience. It was surreal. … You look back on it, and you say ‘That wasn’t even real.’ You might say it was an altered state. …

“It was hard,” Hilton continued. “You gotta remember we had spent several good days together.”

A Shitty Situation

Filed under:Hunting, Personal Jesus, Woodsmanship — posted by Countertop on September 15, 2007 @ 7:24 am

1 McDonalds Sausage Egg and Cheese Biscuit + Large Coffee with cream multiplied by 5 miles into the woods in chase of mr mossy horns and his friend the fuzzy tailed tree rat = don’t ya wish you had remembered some toilet paper.

Be prepared!

Not that I usually aren’t . . . .

UPDATE (3 Minutes Later)

What’s that the Grateful Dead said

Sometimes you get shown the light
In the strangest of places
If you look at it right

Well, turns out I’m under a tree rat apartment complex. How’s that for making the best of a shitty situation.

How To Use A Compass

Filed under:Hunting, Woodsmanship — posted by Countertop on September 2, 2007 @ 4:16 pm

There is an excellent post on the basics of using a compass at The High Road. Anyone who ever goes into the woods ought to be as skilled in the art of orienteering as they are in the art of arms.

I highly recommend you check it out for a refresher. As I commented there, having a GPS is no help if it doesn’t work.



image: detail of installation by Bronwyn Lace

vpn service