Big Jake

turkey best small density image

As strands of light reached earth at sunrise, I stroked the box call at first light of opening day. The quiet morning woods were interrupted by distant Tom’s announcing their presence.

The sky was getting more blue by the minute and the weather was exceptionally clear and calm. Big pine trees surrounded me, in a small Red Oak Flat of land.

Earlier, all was well with the world as my hunting friend and I made our way into the woods of a large NH farm where we were friends of the family.  We separated  and gave distance between ourselves. My friend was new to Turkey hunting but considered himself as one who could call them in as he did with the Turkey’s in his backyard calling them every few minutes incessantly. Bringing my New England Accent to bear, I thought, it was good my friend was way, way over they’ah!

I think that Toms like the quieter ones!

I may be wrong but the Tom coming to my periodic calls seems to like my soft purrs and clucks just fine.  I could see his head and a partial of his display dance at that distance. It was a thrill to see him. Come closer, I said by softly clucking… and purred… and putted on my call like a whisper in the woods. Immediately he gobbled back in response.  All of a sudden In parade fashion three Jake Gobbler’s ran in front of the Tom as if to say… me first boys!  I was sitting with my back to a tree in Turkey hunting fashion in full camo and face mask.  The Jakes (all the same size with 3/1/2 inch beards)  were excited as all get out and standing just a few feet or so from each other and coming at me like a dog coming to a dinner bell.

They finally separated so I could squeeze the trigger on my 12 gauge 870 Remington Pump with a full choke goose barrel. I was waiting for the one that gave the best kill presentation. Yes! I wanted the mature Tom , I thought momentarily, but did not have the vacation time to spend in getting him to shotgun range.

With the head of one of the the Jakes in my sight, a sure thing,  I squeezed the trigger, and sent number 4’s at him like a buzz saw.  All the pellets struck his head and neck with such force that  he was knocked over by the dense blast. Lights Out! Wings still flapping from nerves for a moment or two. The other Jakes did not leave at first they walked around the downed Jake trying to figure out what happened but finally melted into the tree line. My hunting partner came over to see and gave a congratulatory hand shake and took pictures as I tagged the bird.

I had to wait for the local check in station in Chester, NH to open.  At 14 pounds with nary a pellet in his body he will be a tasty addition to the dinner table. I skinned him, salted his gut cavity and place him in the freezer. I will likely bake him as I did the last one with Thin sliced tart granny smith apples and Hickory smoked bacon covering his body as his new found skin. Wow! Thank God for Hunting in New England!! ©

 

 

One Hunting Rifle/Cartridge for the Planet?

Is there such a thing? One Hunting Rifle for the Planet?

Big or small, Cape Buffalo or whitetail deer, This rifle must do it all, and do it well!

Many an outdoor writer has written on the mythical best all around cartridge and rifle for the money. These authors, like me have to make some assumptions about what you want in an all around rifle. Here are my assumptions:

The hunter wants to either hunt Alaska or Africa some day for Brown Bear or Cape Buffalo/Plains Game and Elephant in Africa; but more than not, hunts deer, moose, Bison and bear whenever possible. And you can only use one rifle/cartridge to do it all and be happy with your choice!

Does this Rifle and Cartridge even exist? Let me throw out some hurdles for this rifle cartridge to overcome as well…

The cartridge is available at larger retailers and can be hand-loaded by the shooter/hunter.

Use bullet heads available on the market from several manufacturers.

Can be used on game from whitetail deer without damaging meat to cleanly kill Cape Buffalo and Elephant when solids are used.

Shoot low recoil hand loaded 225 grain rounds for deer or bear that a teenager could shoot e.g. 12 ft -lbs recoil energy as compared to 17 ft-lbs for a 30-06.

Shoot a range of delivered energies from 1800 ft-lbs to 4500 Ft -lbs

Shoot bench rest 3 shot groups at 100 yards at 1 MOA or better with all bullets types and weights.

Uses a standard action only.

The rifle must cost less than $900 dollars

Can shoot flat enough and with ample punch to kill an Elk at 500 yards.

Shoot flatter than a 30-06 Springfield/180 grain heads and do it with a 225 grain bullet with 1000 ft-lbs more energy than the 30-06.

There is only one rifle on the planet that meets this criteria!

The Answer is the .375 Ruger Cartridge (a proprietary Hornady case)  in the Ruger’s M77 Hawkeye Rifle. And is made right here in New Hampshire.

375 Ruger

I have the pleasure of owning the .375 Ruger M77 Hawkeye African, and have owned it for several years. I have shot 3 1/8 groups at 600 yards (prone position on grass) with Nosler 260 grain AccuBonds. It shoots 1/2 inch groups at its best at 100 yards and sub-MOA groups for most all bullet types and styles and is not finicky over its diet. VX Gold Ring Leupold Scopes are a must on this rifle with dual erector springs to absorb the recoil day after day.

Cases from Hornady

375 ruger unprimed new cases

 

 

At the Range

375 Ruger-0001

The Ruger M77 Hawkeye is better than any rifle I have ever owned or shot for the money in nearly 50 years of hunting and shooting. I would rather sell all of my other hunting rifles first before selling it.

I bought the rifle new and had it shipped to my FFL dealer. It was not shiny like some other rifles it was beautiful however with good rifle lines and was specifically made for the Hunter. Me! I have taken Moose and Bison Buffalo with this rifle. The Buffalo was a difficult shot at 150 yards quartering away. I had to place a 260 grain AccuBond just behind the last rib and drive the bullet up through the chest cavity, lungs and heart. Not only did it do just that but it broke the far shoulder too and then exited. The Buff fell in less than 20 yards.

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Grey Ghost of Africa

It was always a dream, a dream to hunt in Africa. My childhood memories of stories told of danger and adventure drew me like a bee to honey. A while back in 2003, I was lucky enough to win a New Hampshire Wildlife Federation Auction to hunt with my son Jason in South Africa. We were on a Plains Game Hunt with rifles and Bow and Arrow. I had so much fun on that hunt that I wrote a book about it and things to do to prepare for such a hunt.  We hunted just outside of Danielskull, South Africa with Mount Carmel Safari’s. I was prepared to hunt with my .338 Winchester Magnum and 250 grain Nosler Partition Bullets and Jason hunted with my .270 Winchester with 150 grain Nosler bullets.

ruger 270 and 338

The Kudu story was one that was years in the making because I dreamed  of hunting the Grey Ghost of Africa long ago. It is what I came to Africa for!kudu for web

It was nearly sunset on the plains and near my favorite watering hole.

sunset at Ed's favorite hide

An hour earlier I had taken a large bull Red Hartebeest with Bow (another story). I wanted to take a greater kudu with bow too if possible and had my Ruger M77 Bolt Action .338 at the ready as well.

It was 6:15 PM and only about 20 minutes of shooting light left. The skyline was turning purple as it attempted to hold the blackness of night from crushing what daylight we had left.

We had been hunting and observing in this hide for several hours. I was going stir crazy as I had a very respectable bull Hartebeest we had arrowed and checked on earlier, but knowing that in the last twinkles of light that we had left, sometimes the largest and most cunning of game species venture out when they think it is finally safe to drink. I poked my head into all the nooks and crannies looking outside for any approaching game. Nothing there! I looked out another break in the grass wall. Nothing there! The last place to look was through our back door. As I did, I froze… Unfortunately the door was swung open and a huge Kudu could be seen at 40 yards approaching the water. My guide Jonam reached out and closed the door enough so we would not be seen. At 30 yards we could not see the Kudu, he was coming in on our blind side. All of a sudden there was an earth shattering roar. “ROOOF, ROOOF, ROOOF!” A Lion? No, it was the kudu!  We were had! The kudu is the second largest antelope on the African Plains, he was more than 600 pounds on the hoof. Like an Elk he swapped ends and high stepped it to about 150 yards to a small hill. We kept silent and watched him with awe.  His head was visible above the brush and sky lined in the fading purple. His spiral horns were silhouetted as if to showcase the magnificence of the nearly three perfect curls.That image was forever etched into my brain!  I grabbed the .338 in case he steps clear of brush. I had my Leupold VX-2 atop the Ruger .338. I was amazed at how clearly I could see and do not know to this day what magnification I may have set in those fleeting moments, probably 3x which is my normal setting. One thing was for sure, I had enough adrenaline in my blood stream that, to this day, I can play those moments in my head like it was yesterday.

In a whisper to Jonam, “If he steps out so can get a clear shot, I’ll take it!” I held on the kudu so long perhaps 30 seconds that my arms began to shake. The gun and my arms felt like lead. I held that rifle for what seemed like eternity  Seconds passed like cold maple syrup off a spoon. Finally, in desperation for a shot, I braced the rifle on the metal frame of the hide. “For Petes sake, step forward”, I mumbled, or something like that. No sooner did I  think it that he stepped forward, one step, two steps. Ok I have a clear shot.

As the crosshairs of my Leupold scope touched the chest, I squeezed crisply. “KABOOM!”  I worked the bolt as fast as I could and put another round in the chamber.  I shouted, “I can’t see him; I can’t see him.”  In the fading light I put the safety back on.  We pile out the back door and Jonam was scanning with binoculars.  Jonam shouted: “He’s up… er, no, he went down.”  As the last light was swallowed by the African night, we realized that we did not have a flashlight with us. Luckily, Jonam did have a two way radio, so we radioed for assistance.  Sitting there in the pitch-black darkness I mused that I always seem to shoot animals when I don’t have a flashlight; how on earth could I have forgotten a flashlight from the planning list?

Jonam was sure the kudu had moved to the right, so when Jason and his tracker “Jim” arrived, Jason set out with his penlight. Not sure where the kudu had fallen, Jonam assured me that if I hit him with the .338 where I said I did; it was only a matter of locating him. As we began to search, we crisscrossed the spot that Jonam saw him last, all looking for blood spoor.  “None here,” I said.  “Nope, none here,” chimed in Jonam.  We went back to where I thought I shot him.  “He is somewhere here, Dad. We will find him.” Jason encouraged.  “I can’t understand it; I believe that I hit him well,” I said as we went back to where I thought I shot him. Denied visual confirmation, my heart began to sink, when suddenly a whooping sound arose from Jonam and Jim, who had found the kudu not 20 yards from where he had been hit. It was a double-lung hit, a bit high but that is hunting.  We high fived each other, and then it occurred to me to tell Jason my other great news; “I have a red hartebeest down over there that I shot with my bow earlier.”  “You what!  WAHOO!” was Jason’s response. And then I began to relax… a little.

 

It took all four of us to load the kudu and red hartebeest on the back of the Toyota Land Cruiser Pickup.  Jason and I rode in the back with the game.  As we headed out of the bushveld in the darkness, the stars were so bright and clear that we could reach out and touch them.  The spiral arm of the “Milky Way” galaxy pointed the way back to camp.  As we bumped along, with a soft cool African wind in my face high atop the Toyota, my right hand was holding the ivory kudu horn tip to keep it from banging into metal.  Jason was sitting to my left.  I accomplished my dream to take a fine kudu and hunt with my son in Africa.  The hunt could have ended there and then. My kudu dream was fulfilled; I said a quiet prayer in thanksgiving.  When we got back we celebrated, and celebrated some more over a crackling campfire. This is but one of several exciting hunts in my e-book African Safari -Rifle and Bow and Arrow.  Come with me and Jason, hop on a 747 with us and go on Safari.