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Skunked Opening Day of Small Game
huntingwithdaughters
Member Posts: 195 ✭✭✭
Rabbits
We left the house at 5 AM. Alice looked cute in her first camo. We had a bit of a struggle setting up the 2-person ground blind. It has a built in bench seat and a canopy like a miniture porch awning. We hunkered down at the edge of a field on state game land in Sussex County. The moon was full and wandered in and out of the cloud cover. We had seen rabbits at this location before and I had visions of rabbit stew.
The dawn came up as rosy fingered as any seen by Odysseus. I took out the trusty blunderbuss and loaded up with 7 1/2 shoot. We started strolling slowly up a mowed land when Alice tugged my sleave. To our right and left were signs warning that this was a safety zone. We had (I had) picked the wrong spot. We packed up in a hurry (no sign of rabbits) and moved across the road to another WMA. I explained the concept of walking, stoppings, walking, stopping to try to scare the crespuscular creatures to flush. After an hour of this Alice was bored. So far rabbits 1, good guys, zero.
SquirrelsNow we tried squirrels. The ground blind was set up at yet another spot in the WMA under a huge oak tree. All we have to do is wait, I explained, and the squirrels will think we have left after a while and come out. We waited. And we waited some more. Then the answer. A huge hawk had been perched at the top of the tree, no doubt having polished off the last squirrel. "They must be affraid to come out," she said. Squirrels, zero, good guys zero, hawk, 1.
We drove off to find another promising oak. Squirrels taunted us by the side of the road, anywhere it was illegal to shoot. Chipmunks scurried off to meetings, pre-season turkeys gave us the sarcastic glances. Even a buck and doe started during our scouting, the former flaunting a regal rack. At last we saw a convention of squirrels racing around an abandoned farm house. We parked, I loaded the blunderbuss and tried to sneak up on them. They vanished like smoke and I got in one shot at a squirrel 50 feet up as it beat a cowardly retreat. And missed him. Squirrels 1, goodguys nothing. We tried waiting them out but no deal. "They know we are here, Dad" Alice informed me. "Well, thats why they call it hunting and not shopping. " l was hungry so we packed up AGAIN, crossed the Delaware into PA and had breakfast at Grandpa Joe's Bagel in Stroudsburg.
We left the house at 5 AM. Alice looked cute in her first camo. We had a bit of a struggle setting up the 2-person ground blind. It has a built in bench seat and a canopy like a miniture porch awning. We hunkered down at the edge of a field on state game land in Sussex County. The moon was full and wandered in and out of the cloud cover. We had seen rabbits at this location before and I had visions of rabbit stew.
The dawn came up as rosy fingered as any seen by Odysseus. I took out the trusty blunderbuss and loaded up with 7 1/2 shoot. We started strolling slowly up a mowed land when Alice tugged my sleave. To our right and left were signs warning that this was a safety zone. We had (I had) picked the wrong spot. We packed up in a hurry (no sign of rabbits) and moved across the road to another WMA. I explained the concept of walking, stoppings, walking, stopping to try to scare the crespuscular creatures to flush. After an hour of this Alice was bored. So far rabbits 1, good guys, zero.
SquirrelsNow we tried squirrels. The ground blind was set up at yet another spot in the WMA under a huge oak tree. All we have to do is wait, I explained, and the squirrels will think we have left after a while and come out. We waited. And we waited some more. Then the answer. A huge hawk had been perched at the top of the tree, no doubt having polished off the last squirrel. "They must be affraid to come out," she said. Squirrels, zero, good guys zero, hawk, 1.
We drove off to find another promising oak. Squirrels taunted us by the side of the road, anywhere it was illegal to shoot. Chipmunks scurried off to meetings, pre-season turkeys gave us the sarcastic glances. Even a buck and doe started during our scouting, the former flaunting a regal rack. At last we saw a convention of squirrels racing around an abandoned farm house. We parked, I loaded the blunderbuss and tried to sneak up on them. They vanished like smoke and I got in one shot at a squirrel 50 feet up as it beat a cowardly retreat. And missed him. Squirrels 1, goodguys nothing. We tried waiting them out but no deal. "They know we are here, Dad" Alice informed me. "Well, thats why they call it hunting and not shopping. " l was hungry so we packed up AGAIN, crossed the Delaware into PA and had breakfast at Grandpa Joe's Bagel in Stroudsburg.
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