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Hunting
Extreme Long Range Hunting & Shooting (ELR)
Getting Old
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<blockquote data-quote="Augustus" data-source="post: 725461" data-attributes="member: 10142"><p>I know I am on the downhill slide in life as evidenced by deteriorating eyesight and other bodily functions that I once thought was important. The decline has become critical now. I was shooting at a mile yesterday, the wind was a little cantankerous and it took three shots to hit a 12 inch gong with the 338/408. </p><p></p><p>I decided to let it cool off to air temperature so I started picking up pecans while I waited. I got distracted and spent about an hr in this endeavor before returning to the gun. I wiggled the rifle deep into the bags and was waiting for the sweet spot when I saw movement. It was a big dog coyote with his nose in the air working into the wind. Suddenly he froze dead still and stared intently at a big pile of rocks. After a little bit he began to sneak and stop, sneak and stop. Suddenly he rushed the rock pile and a very vigorous chase took place. </p><p></p><p>He caught whatever he was chasing, a rat I suppose, then carried it a little ways and had dinner. He ate most of it then picked up what was left and trotted over the hill. </p><p></p><p>The moral of the story is that my killer instinct has gone, I knew I was slipping but this is ridiculous.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Augustus, post: 725461, member: 10142"] I know I am on the downhill slide in life as evidenced by deteriorating eyesight and other bodily functions that I once thought was important. The decline has become critical now. I was shooting at a mile yesterday, the wind was a little cantankerous and it took three shots to hit a 12 inch gong with the 338/408. I decided to let it cool off to air temperature so I started picking up pecans while I waited. I got distracted and spent about an hr in this endeavor before returning to the gun. I wiggled the rifle deep into the bags and was waiting for the sweet spot when I saw movement. It was a big dog coyote with his nose in the air working into the wind. Suddenly he froze dead still and stared intently at a big pile of rocks. After a little bit he began to sneak and stop, sneak and stop. Suddenly he rushed the rock pile and a very vigorous chase took place. He caught whatever he was chasing, a rat I suppose, then carried it a little ways and had dinner. He ate most of it then picked up what was left and trotted over the hill. The moral of the story is that my killer instinct has gone, I knew I was slipping but this is ridiculous. [/QUOTE]
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Getting Old
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