Sports A Field

Cartridges for Sheep Hunting

The idea that sheep hunts require super long-range cartridges is mostly myth.

Photo above: Boddington and Steve Hornady with a good Dagestan tur, taken with Hornady’s .280 Remington. Hornady has done as much mountain hunting as anyone in the industry, mostly with the .280 Remington.

According to Grand Slam Club Ovis (GSCO), an organization that keeps records on such things, just over 2,100 hunters have taken at least one each of the four North American wild sheep. That’s 8,000 North American wild sheep!

In this group were 75 bowhunters, plus half-dozen muzzleloader hunters. The rest have used an eclectic array of calibers. Experienced sheep hunter George Lawrence III recently took one each of our four North American rams with a .30-30. But my Grand Prize for “most unlikely sheep rifle” goes to Charlie Ren, who guided hunters to desert bighorns in 1930s Sonora. Clients included Grancel Fitz, Frank Hibben, Jack O’Connor, and my uncle, Art Popham. Ren relied solely on his open-sighted 1899 Savage .25-35.

It’s a myth that all sheep and goats are taken at long range. So many rams taken with archery tackle and short-range arms shoot holes in the legend. With a scoped centerfire rifle, nobody plans for a short-range shot, but it happens. Now, if you know your range is limited, you plan your stalk accordingly. There will be rams you cannot approach, so you keep glassing, reading the terrain.

So, I don’t buy that hunting sheep and goats requires long-range shooting. Yep, shots average longer than close-cover whitetails, but not farther than elk, mule deer, or caribou. Thanks to Asian hunting, I have taken a lot of sheep and goats. One thing about mountains: They don’t change much from one range to another. The tall Asian mountains are more open, but you can still stalk. If you can’t, you might have to wait, or seek another opportunity.

I figure my average shot is about 250 yards, much the same for elk, mule deer, and caribou. Sure, there have been “take it or leave it” shots at twice that distance. Many more long shots have been passed. And, there have been very close shots!

I go into a mountain hunt prepared for the worst, hoping for the best. I spend time on the range ensuring my rifle, scope, and load are set up to handle shots at least twice as far as I’m likely to actually shoot. In Mongolia in 2018 we shot six sheep and ibex. Those mountains are big and open, and severe wind complicated some opportunities. Even so, the average shot was less than 250 yards.

Although the Asian mountains are often fairly open, this Gobi argali, glassed bedded from a couple of miles away, was stalked to about a hundred yards, not all that unusual in mountain hunting. The rifle is a Blaser R8 with .300 Weatherby barrel.

Being ready for the worst instills confidence, and sometimes you need all the capability you have. You bet, I’ve stretched the barrel now and again. Not often, because a cooler head prevails. You realize you can get closer. If not today, maybe tomorrow. Mountain animals move little at night, so leaving them at last light and trying again at dawn is often sound.

 I don’t consider sheep or goats “superior game” in any way, but there are practical and psychological considerations. Hunts for most goats are less expensive than most sheep. But, except for resident hunters, there are no “cheap” mountain hunts. Even for residents, drawing a tag may take decades. There’s a lot of pressure, and when the shot comes, you don’t want to blow it. Sensibly, you try to make the shot as certain as possible.

Sure, misses happen. I’m not a good enough liar to say that I’ve never missed! But, although I’ve had plenty unsuccessful mountain hunts, I’ve never had a failure because I missed. So, I’ve passed “possible” shots as too far, or unreadable wind. It’s always best to pass “possible,” wait for “reasonably certain,” and avoid unnecessary chances. If undisturbed, mountain animals are unlikely to leave a mountain system, so there’s strong rationale for biding your time and waiting until a good stalk is possible, rather than risk blowing them out.

Boddington is ready to shoot his 1998 Wyoming bighorn, using a Rifles, Inc. .300 Weatherby Magnum. Distance is 265 yards, an average shot. This is the eleventh day of a ten-day hunt, first opportunity: Regardless of distance and rifle/cartridge, better make the shot count! The ram was bedded; as soon as it stood up, Boddington dropped it in its tracks.

Although their vision is superb, sheep and goats are not as wary as deer. The real trick: You must first conquer the mountain! So, there is an opposite dynamic. Once you get to the top (and the top after that), and are moving into position, you really want to take the shot. Because: You can’t imagine doing it all over again the next day, and you aren’t sure you can! Many shots at sheep and goats come at the end of a long stalk, when you’ve pushed your limits. Many important hunts culminate at the tail end, after successive long days. Better make it good, because, even if there’s a tomorrow, you’re at your limit and there’s no coming back.

This topsy-turvy psychology dictates that you must have absolute confidence in the cartridge you choose and the rifle that launches your bullet. Not all shots are difficult, but there’ s too much at stake. Most experienced mountain hunters settle on one cartridge and rifle that works. It may not be perfect, if there is such a thing, but it’s a comfortable and familiar combination, like Charlie Ren’s .25-35!

In the recent American Hunter, I noted with pleasure that my old friend John Zent, NRA’s Director of Publications, recently completed his four North American wild sheep with a fine desert bighorn. John and I came into the business about the same time, and have been friends for forty years. Few in our industry have had the determination to create and pursue such opportunity; among living gunwriters and their editors, I think just Jim Carmichel, John Zent, and me. So, Zent’s desert ram is a big deal. Their website carried a synopsis, and I was interested to learn that John’s four rams (plus extra), were all taken with the .300 WSM. Nearly twenty years ago, on his first sheep hunt, Zent found his comfort zone and has stuck with it. I have not been so loyal or steadfast. 

Left to right: .300 WSM, .300 Winchester Magnum, .300 Weatherby Magnum. Any of the fast .30s are always sound choices for mountain hunting. But, although he often relies on various .30-caliber magnums, he concedes that .30-caliber power isn’t essential for any sheep or goat hunting.

The .300 WSM is a good choice; a recent Weatherby winner also prefers it. I’ve never done any mountain hunting with a .300 WSM, but I have used its fast little brother, the .270 WSM. Often, I default to traditional fast .30-calibers, .300 Winchester and .300 Weatherby Magnum. There are more modern and “better” fast .30s, including the .300 RUM, .30 Nosler, and .300 PRC. For many years, the .300 Weatherby Magnum was a perennial favorite among serious mountain hunters. It still is, but in recent years some have shifted to newer case designs like the RUM and Nosler (which is based on the RUM case shortened). I accept the greater efficiency, but since mountain hunting is first about confidence, I haven’t shifted.

Another thing about sheep and goats: They aren’t much different the world over. In the Old World, chamois are small, and the Asian urial sheep are also small (read: smaller targets, more accuracy). The biggest Asian sheep are larger than ours and some of the Asian ibex and turs are big and blocky, but not significantly larger than a big Rocky Mountain billy or Texas aoudad. No sheep or goat anywhere in the world is as big as an elk, or as tough as a bear. So, in the “pure” world of sheep/goat cartridges, and despite my own frequent choices, I’m not certain .30-caliber power, bullet weight, and recoil are needed.

I want velocity, for downrange energy, wind resistance, and confidence that comes with flat trajectory. There are lots of options. I’ve been happy with faster 6.5mms (read: minimum 140-grain bullet at 3,000 fps). I used the .270 WSM on several mountain hunts, and I’ve used the .270 Weatherby Magnum, both awesome. Winchester’s brand-new 6.8 Western has great promise, not as fast as the WSM, but based on extra-heavy bullets that, until now, no .270 cartridge has enjoyed. That said, I have yet to be on a mountain hunt that the old .270 Winchester couldn’t handle, including the largest-bodied Asian sheep and goats.

The late Joe Bishop with a wonderful Marco Polo argali, taken in 2003 with a Sako in 7mm Remington Magnum. Bishop used the 7mm Remington Magnum for almost all his mountain game…with confidence and success.

Many serious mountain hunters compromise between the 6.5mms and .270s, settling on fast 7mms. My old friend Joe Bishop used a 7mm Remington Magnum for almost all his mountain game; so did Bert Klineburger, who, together with his brothers, pioneered so much Asian mountain hunting. I’ve used various fast 7mms but, as with .270s, “magnum” 7mms are not essential. Jim Carmichel and Steve Hornady did most of their mountain hunting with the .280 Remington, a great choice. If I were to start over, I’d give serious thought to the suddenly popular .280 Ackley Improved, and for sure I’d have a look at the 6.8 Western.

It’s a bit late to start over so, for the mountains that remain to be climbed, I’ll mostly stick with old favorites, .270s and old-fashioned belted .30s. With cartridges (and rifles), familiarity doesn’t breed contempt; it breeds confidence. When you’re on the last ridge and there’s no coming back, you must know your rifle and cartridge can handle the shot you must make, whether close or far.

Mongolia’s Altai argali is the world’s largest wild sheep. Boddington used a .300 Weatherby; Donna used a .270 Winchester: Opposite approaches, but both worked just fine!

Leave a Comment

Back to Africa!

International hunting travel is different, but still possible, in the era of COVID.

Photo above: Boddington tracking buffalo between palm islands in Botswana’s Okavango Swamp in 1985. Botswana is open, and elephant hunting will resume this year. Unfortunately, there is no longer any hunting in the Okavango.

My rationale (“excuse,” if you prefer) for my first safari was to get Africa out of my system once and for all. It didn’t exactly work out that way. Africa has a way of grabbing you and not letting go. In the forty-four years since that first African experience, I can almost count on the fingers of one hand the years I haven’t hunted somewhere in Africa.

When I was younger, there were a few years when I couldn’t afford it. I also took a couple years off so I could make appearances in the Gulf Wars. Otherwise, I’ve been to Africa almost every year, and enjoyed every minute of it.

One of the years I didn’t get to Africa was our unlucky and unlamented 2020. I had plans, for sure, but they dissipated in the viral-laden mist. But it hasn’t been the end of the world. I’ve had the rare opportunity to reset a bit and reflect on past hunts, even spend time going over old photos. In the era before digital cameras, I spent thousands of dollars annually on film and processing. When I went digital those costs vanished, but I had thirty years of black and white proof sheets and thousands of slides in file cabinets. I’d like to say they were perfectly organized, but why lie?

I hope most of us had “pandemic projects” to keep us occupied as this thing dragged on, stuff we’ve put off (for years). I had some good ones: I built a shop and set up a new reloading bench, with the opposite end for studio photography. Another project: I went through all the old photo files, and I found good images I hadn’t seen in years. At the end, I had several hundred slides scanned at high-res, now added to digital storage. These were from all over, not just Africa, but many were from safaris long past, some in areas no longer available, and with absent friends.

A beautiful wadi in the Ennedi Mountains in Chad. In 2001 it hadn’t rained here for a decade! Southernmost Chad is open, but the Ennedi Mountains, where native aoudad roam, hasn’t been hunted since the early 2000s.

They brought back a lot of fond memories. I’m fortunate to have a lot of great African memories to fall back on. I can’t imagine how I might feel if 2020 was supposed to be the year that I took the Great Plunge and embarked on my first safari, only to have it snatched away. Many were in that boat, and I’m sorry.

Fortunately, Africa and her wildlife are still there, and the life-changing experience of safari still awaits. At this writing, Africa is reopening fast. My crystal ball is no better than anyone else’s, but I expect travel and access to steadily improve. Some countries are fully open (sort of); others with more restrictions. 

We all have different views of pandemic politics, and COVID-related risk assessment is a personal thing. However, if we wish to get on with our lives (and if our lives include travel), there are real considerations to deal with. I didn’t get on a commercial flight for ten months. When I did, I was required to wear a mask. I took a “selfie” and posted it, and one of the first comments I got went something like “How could you buy into this stuff? I have lost all respect for you.”

When Boddington took his first commercial flight in months, he wasn’t surprised that a mask was required. Special “Covid requirements” will probably be with us for some time!

Well, if you choose to stay home, that’s your decision. Depending on age and health, some of us should stay home for a while longer. But, if you choose to travel, you will wear a mask on common carriers; you won’t board without face covering, and you’ll keep it on. I find the mask claustrophobic, but you get used to it, and in public, in much of world (and on public carriers), masking is now simply a fact of life.

So is testing. In order to fly internationally, at this writing you must have a negative PCR Covid-19 test—within a specified time frame—in order to board. (72 hours before departure seems most common, but this varies and is subject to change.) You must also have another negative test (also with a time limit) to get back into the U.S.

These are things you must think about and plan for, and, although nobody likes to hear this, you must be a bit flexible. In February, Donna and I had a trip planned to Uganda, rescheduled from last year, and we were looking forward to a great buffalo hunt. We watched the Super Bowl at a neighbor’s house, just four people in a large room, no raucous gathering, everybody healthy. Out of the blue, one of them came down with COVID. Suddenly, we weren’t going to Uganda. It’s irresponsible to travel if you know you’ve been exposed. You don’t want to pass it along but, even if you prefer to be completely selfish, do you want to be ill in a foreign country, and have to quarantine there in order to get home?

These are practical concerns. We did get tested, remained negative, and rescheduled our trip for mid-March. So, hopefully, while you’re reading this, we’ll be stalking buffalo on a hot, sunny day in Karamoja. But we have to run the viral gauntlet once more. The airlines are good about rescheduling, but these days one shouldn’t even think about non-refundable or non-changeable tickets. The virus is still out there, and there’s no guarantee a test will come back negative. Also, the time-date-stamped test results are unarguable. Time required to get test results varies with area; it’s essential to do your homework and get tested so that you can get the results back before your flight but, as with the test itself, there’s no guarantee. Be flexible!

Same thing on the other end: You must be sure you can get tested and get results before you head home. This is just one more logistical challenge hard-pressed outfitters must solve, and they are. After a terrible 2020, operators able to resume are fully aware of this requirement and figuring out the best and surest ways. Just ask the questions before you go, and be certain of the answers.

Travel routing has also changed, and will continue to change. I’m writing in late February, still early in the game. South Africa officially opened to travel on October 1, 2020. In southern Africa, Botswana, Mozambique, Namibia, Zambia, and Zimbabwe are also open. This is great news. However, at this writing, U.S. citizens are still not allowed to travel in or through various European countries. Flights and potential routes are thus much more restrictive! In this infancy of reopening, flights through the Middle East have been popular, and our routing to Uganda is Turkish Air through Istanbul (a great airline for travel with firearms).

From a practical business standpoint, airlines must view travel restrictions as opportunities (as well as barriers). They are working aggressively to open new routes, but this takes time. As the year unfolds, there will be more direct flights into Windhoek, and I just learned that Air Ethiopia (another fine carrier) is opening a direct flight from Addis Ababa to Beira in Mozambique. For safari travel, I have always recommended using an experienced gun-savvy travel agent. In these times of COVID, with things evolving quickly, this is even more important.

If you lost a safari last year, don’t give up. Things are improving, and as the vaccine(s) become more widespread, the curve should accelerate. Whether we make it to Uganda this month depends on the vagaries of a tiny little virus, but, for sure, I won’t go through 2021 without getting my “Africa fix.” This will be a great safari season!

A nice lion, taken in Masailand in 1988 while tracking buffalo. Tanzania is currently open to hunting and tourism.

Leave a Comment

Deer Cartridges

Thoughts on what works, what’s popular, and what’s trending—based on a small sample of Kansas deer hunters.

Photo above: John Sonne used his .30-06 to take the best buck of the 2020 season on Boddington’s Kansas farm. With a 40-yard shot, you could say he was overgunned, but the buck was moving in thick cover, where it’s a good idea to have plenty of gun and bullet.

I recently wrote about the continuing (and seemingly endless) procession of new cartridges coming out these days. It isn’t anything like the ridiculous flood of new unbelted magnums we saw at the turn of the millennium, but there are still too many, and they come too fast, for any one writer to wring them all out. And, as gunwriters, do we really evaluate cartridges?  Especially hunting cartridges?

The late Bob Penfold was a pioneer outfitter who essentially put South Pacific hunting on the map. In his younger days he did a lot of writing for Australian shooting and hunting magazines, and I’ll never forget what he said to me one day: “Mate, you American writers take a new rifle, cartridge, or bullet out and shoot one or two deer, and call it ‘field testing.’” In Australia, which has serious overpopulations of various feral animals, the situation is a lot different. “Over here,” he went on to say, “when we get a crack at something new, we go out and shoot fifty or sixty pigs or feral goats. Now, that’s field testing!”

We can do range testing, either exhaustive or cursory, and we can work up loads and shoot groups or ring steel to our heart’s content. However, with our short seasons and limited bag limits, it’s difficult and expensive to acquire significant field experience with any single cartridge, bullet, or load, whether new or old. I’ve never forgotten Penfold’s words, and I’ve kept them in mind whenever I find myself waxing a bit too eloquent on the near-magical properties of something new, or new to me.

That said, some extrapolation is valid. I first used the .264 Winchester Magnum in about 1965. I have not tried all of the new 6.5mm cartridges, and don’t need to in order to know how a good 140-grain 6.5mm bullet at about 3,000 feet per second performs on game, which, depending on who does the loading, is roughly the speed of the 6.5-.284 Norma, 6.5 PRC, 6.5 SST, the new 6.5 Weatherby RPM, and undoubtedly a bunch of other 6.5mm wildcats and proprietaries I don’t even know about. I can make the same comparison with the several 7mm and .30-caliber cartridges that (more or less) emulate the velocities of the 7mm Remington and .300 Winchester Magnums.

Left to right: .264 Winchester Magnum, 6.5-06 wildcat, 6.5-.284 Norma, 6.5mm PRC, 6.5mm Weatherby RPM, 6.5mm SST proprietary. All of these cartridges propel a 140-grain bullet at about 3000 feet per second. Accuracy will vary with rifles, but performance on game is about the same; it’s not necessary to hunt with all of them to know that.

Benefits of modern case design are real. More efficient cases produce more energy per grain of powder burned because of a smoother burning curve, which is conducive to accuracy. However, I’m probably not going to spend time with a dozen 6.5mm PRC rifles to prove that the group average is better than the average groups I get from my .264. I’m not even sure a dozen rifles would prove it, because that .264 has an exceptional Obermayr barrel, and it shoots, despite archaic belted case and unpopular, near-obsolete cartridge.

This fall I hunted with a Springfield Armory Waypoint in 6.5mm PRC, the first time I’ve messed with that cartridge. The rifle is very accurate, and accounted for several whitetails. On game, the 6.5 PRC performed much like my old .264 (which is not damning with faint praise!). I have not yet squeezed the trigger on a .30 PRC, which should perform about like my .300 Winchester Magnum. Nor have I used a 30 Nosler, which should perform much like my .300 Weatherby Magnum. In time, perhaps I’ll try these or other newer cartridges. Maybe the rifles I try them in will be so spectacularly accurate that I’ll be an instant convert. Maybe not! I concede better case design, which, with barrels and ammo of similar quality, should produce better accuracy. But a blanket statement that new cartridges are “better” is a tough call to make.

These days, I have limited interest in proving the point. If I were a competitive shooter, even the slightest accuracy edge might be worth pursuing. As a hunter, for the handful of game animals we take each year, not a big deal. So many cartridges, and so few days afield! Some hunters are rapidly drawn to the latest cartridges. If they’ve made their choices based on serious study, without blindly accepting all the stuff that’s out there, they may see improved performance. Even if real improvement is illusory, confidence counts for much. However, a lot of hunters continue to rely on the old, reliable combinations. For sure, this isn’t wrong. In terms of the degree of precision required, hunting is neither benchrest nor 1,000-yard competition. If you already know what works for your hunting, why make a radical change?

On the next-to-last day of 2020 rifle season, Boddington took a cull eight-pointer with his Savage 99 lever-action in .300 Savage. With the season running down, this buck was a year too old…with antlers too small for its age…and Boddington wanted to take a buck with this old rifle!

For about a decade, my Kansas neighbor and I have been hosting deer hunters during our short rifle season. They come from all over, ten or a dozen a year, and I look forward to seeing the selection of rifles and cartridges they bring. It’s a small sampling, not meaningful data, but I consider it a minor bellwether of trends. If you believe what we read, you’d think the 6.5mm Creedmoor is the only deer cartridge left in America, but it wasn’t until the 2019 season when young Brad McCarty brought the first Creedmoor we’ve seen. By then I’d joined the Creedmoor Club myself!

Other than advising hunters that our terrain and stands don’t offer long shots, we don’t put anything out there to influence rifle/cartridge decisions. However, literacy is required to negotiate the Kansas permit application, and I suppose my own preferences aren’t altogether unknown. We tend to think of the Creedmoor as appealing to younger shooters, so it was also surprising that, for the 2019 hunt, Lee Murray, over eighty, turned up with another 6.5mm Creedmoor. We were checking zero; Lee quickly added that he’d also brought a .30-06. I wasted no time in saying I was glad he’d also brought a “real gun.” Seriously, the Creedmoor is adequate for any shot (and any buck) we have, but we haven’t seen it much. And, only once ever, has anyone brought a cartridge below .25-caliber. In 2019 that was Erin Tremaine’s .240 Weatherby Magnum, the only time I have ever seen the .240 used in the field.

Left to right: 6.5mm Creedmoor, 7mm Remington Magnum, .300 Winchester Magnum. The cartridges most hunters bring to Boddington’s Kansas deer camp run between these extremes. The little Creedmoor is perfectly adequate for all shots and the fast magnums aren’t needed, but these and the dozens of cartridges in between them all work just fine if the shot is placed well.

Among our two dozen stands, the longest possible shot is less than 300 yards. In 2019, we had a couple of deer taken at about 200 yards. In 2020, no shots exceeded 150 yards. At such distances, with good shot placement, almost anything will work, and most centerfire cartridges shoot plenty flat enough for our conditions. We do see a lot of faster cartridges. Even though this does not apply to the heavy timber in our southeastern corner, Kansas has the reputation for wide open country and longer shots. Thus, it doesn’t surprise me that every year somebody brings a fast .30, usually a .300 WSM or .300 Winchester Magnum. We’ve seen several .270 WSMs and the occasional 7mm Remington Magnum. In both 2019 and 2020, we had 6.5mm PRCs in the field. Considering we’ve seen only two 6.5mm Creedmoors, this is interesting.

The 2020 “cartridge crop” was, well, sort of normal, and, just perhaps, what you might expect to see in a lot deer camps throughout North America. Three of our hunters carried the .30-06; two had .270 Winchesters, and two more .308 Winchesters. Extra-fast cartridges included a 6.5mm PRC, a .300 WSM, and a .300 Winchester Magnum. Having been here before and knowing our conditions, Larry Tremaine shot his 2020 buck with a Marlin lever-action .45-70.

I’m sort of an extra, taking a leftover stand after I get everybody else out, and looking for a cull buck. As much as I would like to, I rarely risk my buck tag with an iron-sighted rifle. Fine for the distance, but in timber the light comes late and leaves early. So, until my buck tag is filled, I usually carry something with an optical sight. In 2020 I carried a scoped Savage 99 in .300 Savage. By the way, everything worked just fine; under our conditions, it’d difficult to make a bad choice!

One of the .308s was a Browning BLR lever-action. This is the first year we’ve seen more than one lever-action among our buck hunters, and that made three! We hear that the all-American lever-action is selling well and making a comeback, so maybe that is a small bellwether.

Larry Tremaine’s Marlin .45-70 flattened this Kansas eight-point at about 90 yards. Oddly, this is the first time anyone has used a .45-70 at Timber Trails. More unusually, on this hunt there were three lever-actions in the field, definitely a first…possibly a trend?

Leave a Comment

DSC Reflections: An Online Extravaganza!

Bid now on some amazing hunting trips and gear at the live and silent virtual auctions.

Sports Afield has been a proud corporate sponsor of the outstanding conservation and hunting organization DSC for many years. One of the best parts of that partnership is attending the annual DSC convention in Dallas, Texas. The convention is a great place to check out the latest gear, book your next hunting adventure, buy cool stuff you didn’t know you needed, and best of all, catch up with old friends.

All that changed this year, with DSC’s in-person show cancelled because of COVID restrictions. But the show will go on—in the virtual arena. The live and silent auctions that are usually the highlight of each evening of the convention are now being held online, and the lineup of auction items is impressive. Scroll through the auction offerings and you’ll find hunting adventures in just about every part of the world, offshore fishing trips, high-end rifles, stunning paintings and sculptures, and lavish furs and jewelry. The auctions officially run February 10-14, but online bidding is already open. Check it out here: dsc.onlinehuntingauctions.com

If your finances permit, it’s especially important to support conservation organizations like DSC this year. The revenue raised by annual events and auctions is what allows them to continue the important work they do—funding grants that further wildlife conservation, promote education, and advocate for hunting and hunters. So fire up your computer, log in to the auctions, and enjoy DSC’s virtual adventure!

Leave a Comment

A Solid Rest

Stukeys Shooting Bench is not only sturdier than most other portable benches, but some permanent benches as well.

In 2004 a self-described cowboy named Royal Stukey contacted me, saying he wanted to send me a test sample of his portable shooting benchrest, then named the Stukeys Sturdy Shooting Bench. I’d already seen the distinctive advertisements in several magazines, including a photo of a full-sized pickup truck with each tire resting on one of the benches. 

We talked for quite a while, Royal explaining that his father had been a retail gun dealer, so Royal grew up shooting a lot of different guns. After high school he first worked for a plant owned by the company that makes Crayola Crayons, spending nine years as a production mechanic, learning to machine and weld production tools to keep them running. 

He then decided to fulfill a lifelong dream, moving to Montana to become a cowboy—where he could  also shoot a lot more. Eventually he became the manager for a big ranch, where the owner turned out to be a worldwide big-game hunter. They decided they needed a portable benchrest in order to shoot on various parts of the ranch. Royal looked and looked, but couldn’t find anything sturdy enough. The ranch manager, having seen Royal fix and make all sorts of stuff, suggested he make one.

That’s where Royal started making the benches, but he eventually moved a few times, including to Worden, Wyoming, where he lived when he contacted me. (Today the company is in Powell, Wyoming.)

At that point I really wanted to try one. I’d used quite a few portable shooting benches over the decades, and while all worked, some worked better than others. The test sample arrived quickly, and the basic design basically followed a common theme among portable benches, including many homemade models: a wood top with three steel legs screwed into the underside.

The bench comes apart in two pieces, each of which has a carry handle.

But the quality of the parts was better than any three-legged bench I’d used. The top consisted of a piece of well-varnished 3/4-inch plywood, with a triangular steel bracket made of 2×1 1/2×1/8-inch angle iron, welded together then screwed firmly to the plywood. The legs were made of heavy SCH40 2-inch pipe, and the bolts were 5/8 inch thick, attached to the angle-iron frame by what Royal calls a “nut-plate” system, eliminating the wobble common to similar three-legged benches. For transport, the three legs were held together by what Royal calls a “leg caddy,” two pieces of ultra-high molecular weight polyethylene, each with three holes, connected by a bungee cord—also a nice touch. 

The bench turned out to be very sturdy—unlike several others I’d used, which tended to vibrate noticeably even in a moderate wind, like those typically blowing across Montana and Wyoming prairie dog towns in spring. This was partly due to the Stukeys Bench weighing 64 pounds–the top 38 pounds and the legs 26 pounds–although the weight varies a little, due to different batches of wood and steel. Still, putting the parts in a pickup did not require vast effort, thanks to a steel handle on the top’s bracket, and another on one of the legs.

Before using the bench in the field, however, I decided to perform a range-test to see how accurately a rifle would group compared to the permanent bench on the private range where I do most of my shorter-range rifle shooting. The permanent bench is made of redwood lumber varying in size from 6×6 legs to the 2x4s on top. The test consisted of shooting an equal number of groups off the redwood bench and the Stukeys, alternating from one bench to the other between groups.

The rifle was a Remington 700 laminated-stock varmint rifle in .223 Remington, purchased new in 2001. After I applied several “accurizing” techniques from epoxy-bedding the stock to recrowning the muzzle, it turned out to be the most accurate factory rifle I’ve ever owned. Ammo put together using benchrest handloading techniques averages under ¼” for five-shot groups at 100 yards, and most factory ammo will put five in around half an inch, shot when using a 16-pound Caldwell  Rock BR Competition front rest on the redwood bench. I also used the Rock when testing the Stukeys Bench, along with accurate Black Hills Ammunition factory ammunition loaded with 50-grain Nosler Ballistic Tips. Result: The groups shot off the Stukeys Bench averaged .15 inch smaller than those shot off the permanent bench.

This convinced me the Stukeys Bench would be more than adequate for testing big-game rifles at longer ranges in the mountain surrounding our valley. The first test involved my wife’s primary rifle at the time, an Ultra Light Arms Model 24 .270 Winchester, which normally grouped three handloads with 130-grain Nosler Partitions into an average of right around half an inch at 100 yards. At 300 yards, with Eileen shooting off the Stukeys Bench, the same load grouped three shots in 1.75 inches—very good for a rifle weighing exactly six pounds with scope, in a slightly varying breeze. (At this point I mailed Royal a check, since he was not getting the bench back.)

It may seem odd for a portable bench to result in such small groups, but Royal mentioned how he’d experimented with dampening vibration. When I mentioned my test, he was pleased but not totally surprised—and a few years later he sent me a new top, also made of 5/8-inch plywood but with 11 laminations, instead of the five in the original, which further helped dampen vibrations, partly because it weighed a little more.

His latest version, new for 2020 and now called simply Stukeys Shooting Bench, uses 13-lamination, ¾-inch all-birch plywood, but along with the varnished plywood version he also offers an option with the top spray-covered by hot polyurea while the primer is still tacky, to cross-link the molecules. (In case you didn’t know—I didn’t—polyurea is a modern elastomer that’s extremely tough and UV light resistant. It’s primarily used for preventing corrosion and impact damage various industrial surfaces, such as tanks, pipes, roofs, concrete garage floors and oil-field containment ponds. It’s also used for coating buoys in the Great Lakes, where they’ve gone 20 years without being recoated.) 

Royal sent along a few poly-covered scrap pieces, inviting me to whack them as hard as possible.  

I started with a 16-ounce claw hammer, with a piece resting on the concrete apron in front of our garage door. After several whacks, a dent finally appeared, so small it wouldn’t be recognizable if I hadn’t known where the hammer hit. I then switched to a 6-pound firewood splitting maul, whacking the plywood with the blunt end. This left a noticeable dent about an inch long, but the poly coating did not crack, or separate from the wood.

The stouter plywood and poly coating adds a few pounds to the bench, though not enough to make it less portable, this sample weighing a total of 72 pounds. In addition, Royal offers several optional, high-quality accessories, including an adjustable 3-legged seat, and a very steady turret-base for the front rest from Target Shooting Inc. I bought this bench because it works, even though it is not cheap; the basic model is priced at $1,385.00—but that includes Fed Ex ground shipping to U.S. addresses. 

For more information, see stukeysbenches.com.

Leave a Comment

High Country Mule Deer

The biggest bucks live in the highest, loneliest places.

Photo above by Vic Schendel

After spending about half my autumn hunting time pursuing mule deer from Sonora to Alberta over the past several decades, I started to envision mule deer range as a loose ocean of deer, filling the western portion of the Mississippi River’s huge basin. Their present range, in fact, pretty much covers the same area as the shallow inland sea that rose during the much warmer climate of the Cretaceous Period. The ocean metaphor occurred to me partly because I have found many aquatic fossils in much of Montana’s mule deer country, sandstone squids and snails along high-plains ridges, and shiny trilobites trapped in mountain shale. 

Mule deer are sparse along the high western shoreline of the mule deer ocean, the Rocky Mountains—sometimes so scarce hunters may search for days without seeing a buck. But mountain bucks are among the biggest, which is why they keep drawing some of us back, again and again.  

Sometimes mountain mule deer hunters end up glassing huge valleys devoid of any other trace of humanity, evoking the pleasant conceit that we’re somehow much closer to Nature. Looking down on flying eagles can do that, and if we look patiently enough, a gray-brown buck may eventually appear, often long after dawn or before dusk, because in high wilderness they’re not as worried about human predators. 

The biggest mountain mule deer I’ve ever killed, both in body and antler, ambled into sight about 10 o’clock in the morning, when wise old bucks should be in bed, on a half-barren limestone ridge partially created by that inland sea. A Forest Service map indicated the ridge was twenty miles from the nearest trailhead, and the buck strolled along as casually as a window-shopper, pausing now and then to bite a stringy tuft of “beard” lichen from a stunted subalpine fir. 

I rather noisily dismounted from my horse, pulled my rifle from its scabbard, then rested the fore-end on a fir branch. At the shot, the buck collapsed on a bed of limestone cobbles, and his body turned out to be so big his antlers were even larger than I had first thought. 

Exactly what that buck weighed I do not know, but I did measure his body, an odd compulsion learned from field work as a biology major. The buck turned out to be just about as large as a 1 1/2-year-old cow elk my wife got a couple weeks later–and a high-plains mule deer buck I killed in Alberta 15 years later. The boned meat from the Canadian buck weighed a little over 130 pounds, and a general rule for big game is the boned meat weighs about a third as much as the entire animal.  

Mountain bucks often have large bodies, making even big antlers look smaller than they really are.

High-country mule deer tend to be bigger than plains bucks, which might be due to the biological rule postulated by German biologist Carl Bergmann in 1847 that warm-blooded animals tend to grow larger in colder environments, due to larger bodies having less relative surface area, thus retaining more heat. But like any general biological rule, there are exceptions—and objections—to Bergmann’s Rule. 

Well-known Canadian biologist Valerius Geist believes larger body size is instead related to food availability during the growing season. This would seem to be odd in the high Rockies, but up there vegetation usually remains at least somewhat green (and hence more nutritious) from spring through early fall, due to more summer precipitation and less evaporation than in the warmer valleys below. What I do know is the mountain bucks my hunting partners and I have taken often had very large bodies and, if old enough, antlers to match—although there are exceptions to that as well.  

Plus, while mountain mule deer can be found up among bighorn sheep, and sometimes close to mountain goats, they normally don’t winter that high.  Instead, they move downhill as snow deepens in late fall—though big bucks will often tolerate even more snow than elk will. In fact, one of my fellow wildlife biology students at the University of Montana specialized in deer predation in the local mountains. He found that male mountain lions took quite a few healthy, mature mule deer bucks, which is contrary to the belief that wild predators primarily kill old, young, or infirm prey. He guessed this was due to mountain bucks spending considerable time alone, at least before the rut.

That is another reason many mountain bucks start downhill later in the fall. Female mule deer tend to live in lower country, perhaps partly because they’re considerably smaller, often weighing less than half as much as really big bucks, so they get colder during high mountain nights. In fact, I have often found a mule deer “gap” in the October mountains. There will be plenty of deer (and medium-sized tracks) along lower, larger creeks, where doe herds feed to put on enough fat to sustain the fawns they’ll soon be carrying into winter. Farther up the mountain, deer sign often fades out—then reappears much higher, especially the larger tracks of high-country bucks. In fact, I killed my first big Montana buck after hiking three miles up an apparently almost deerless ridge near the Idaho Panhandle—and that buck was also up and feeding, all alone, late in the morning.

How high do buck mule deer hang out during the pre-snow “growing season?” The highest I’ve ever seen was taken by my hunting partner Brad Ruddell in the North Park area of Colorado. We were primarily after elk, but also had deer tags, and before the rifle season the outfitter had occasionally seen a big mule deer buck near the end of one ridge. 

He suggested that Brad and I start several hundred yards apart on either side of the ridge-end, and slowly hunt toward each other. I had barely started into the ridgetop timber when a shot thumped ahead of me. A couple minutes later I found Brad—and the dead buck. That ridge was a little higher than 10,000 feet above sea level, but that’s Colorado, the highest state in the Lower 48. The limestone ridge in Montana was right around 7,000 feet—about 1,000 feet below the highest peaks in the area. 

This Colorado buck was found on a ridge more than 10,000 feet above sea level.

While bow hunting for elk in northern Idaho years ago, I spotted a big mule deer buck bedded far above me on a green avalanche slide, near the top of a peak only 5,500 feet above sea level. I didn’t have a deer tag, but there wasn’t any way to get in bow range anyway, since he lay in the center of the slide, amid tiny springs trickling downhill through the greenery, so didn’t need to move more than a few feet to eat or drink. (The elk were in the shady canyons far below the “high” peaks.)

There’s a limestone mountain on the east side of the valley where my wife and I live, its peak just under 9,500 feet above sea level, and you can occasionally glass mule deer bucks far up its open south slope. After first moving here 30 years ago, I started up that slope a couple times, discovering the steep scree eventually became very difficult to navigate—and would be far more difficult with pieces of mule deer buck on my back.

That was OK, however, because other exploration found a spot below that mountain where bucks often end up in November, as the rut starts and the first substantial snow usually falls. An almost level side-ridge angled southeast from the base of the mountain, around 3,000 feet below the peak, and half a mile above a small but constant creek, paralleled by a Forest Service road.

While hunting grouse along the ridge in early September we found mule deer does, fawns, and young bucks hanging out around recent clear cuts. Later we discovered the ridge was a “staging area” for both mountain bucks and elk as they started downhill after the first snows, and the closed logging road provided an easy path for sliding a plastic toboggan, loaded with big game, down to the creekside road.  

On November 4th of our second autumn of hunting the ridge, Eileen and I started up the road through ankle-deep snow, looking for either elk or deer.  We didn’t find anything in the first clear cut, but in the second found an older 3×3 buck, bedded toward the top of the cut amid several does. Eileen sat down behind a sawn-off stump, placed her daypack on the stump, and rested her .270 on the pack. 

By then the biggest doe had gotten to its feet, then started uphill. The buck rose and followed her–but at edge of the timber paused in the classic mule deer “last mistake.” A couple hours later we tobogganed him easily down the trail. In reality, “high” mule deer country mule deer are not defined by elevation above sea level, but by living on mountains—even after they’ve started downhill to winter in the low country. 

There are three primary methods of transportation when hunting high-country mule deer: horses, hiking and motorized vehicles. I have grown less fond of horseback hunting, even though horses have carried me into beautiful high country from Colorado to British Columbia. This is partly due to dislocating my left knee while loading a dead buck, when the horse decided it was time to start downhill despite the deer not being firmly tied down. I turned with the horse while holding onto the buck, but my firmly planted left foot did not. Luckily, the horse stopped and the knee popped back in, and didn’t stiffen up until after my partner and I led the horse down to the nearest road.

Horses can also kill you, though usually not deliberately, like grizzlies or Cape buffalo. My outfitter friend Richard Jackson was among the most competent horsemen—and avid mountain mule deer hunters—I’ve  ever known, but died in a horse wreck before turning fifty, on his last pack-trip of the year. Horses can suddenly interrupt a mountain hunt in many other ways between dislocations and dying, especially as we grow older.

I still like to hike for mountain mule deer, but instead of trying to out-hike other hunters, these days I look for pockets they tend to pass by, especially near closed roads—and I also tend to use a game cart instead of a pack frame to bring deer downhill. This past fall I discovered one such place along the base of a narrow sandstone ridge, and am looking forward to November.

The last mountain mule deer buck I got was mostly reached by vehicle, on a hunt with outfitter Colorado Buck in the mountains of northern New Mexico. He’d leased the hunting on a private ranch, with a cabin “lodge” at a little over 8,000 feet above sea level. The deer had been hunted hard for a number of years, and the result was a lack of classic 4-point antlers. My hunting partners and I would only be allowed to take mature bucks with fewer than the normal number of tines.

I ended up hunting with a guide named Dwayne, and my old friend and fellow writer Holt Bodinson. The drill was to drive partway up one of the local 9,000-foot ridges, then hunt the ridge slowly, glassing openings. Holt had to leave early, so he got first shot—which happened on the first morning. We’d hiked to the edge of a canyon, but only found a few does, so were hiking across a near barren flat to the next overlook when Dwayne and I saw a buck walking ahead of us. His face was even grayer than usual, and the right antler a big fork, while the other appeared to be broken off short. 

Holt was a little behind us, and by the time he got prone, the buck was a little over 300 yards away. At the shot the deer jumped and kicked its hind legs, then trotted 30 yards and eased to the ground. It turned out the left antler was not broken, but a short, twisted mass of short tines. Aside from the buck’s gray face, his body was also very large.

My chance came late in the afternoon the next day, when one of my friends calls “your basic mule deer buck,” with antlers spreading as wide as its ears, appeared in deer-high Gambel oak brush. But his left antler only had one fork, and luckily an opening in the brush showed the top half of his broadside shoulder. The reticle settled about 1/3 of the way down, and at the shot the buck dropped and never moved.

Even after field-dressing, Dwayne and I had something of a struggle lifting the deer into the vehicle; while not as big as Holt’s, mine still resulted in exactly 100 pounds of boned meat. It was a fine buck for all our purposes, but I was a little jealous of Holt’s ancient buck. I have been lucky enough to take a few big “typical” mule deer, but never such an old buck with ancient antlers to commemorate so many years living along the shoreline of the mule deer ocean.

Leave a Comment

GSC/O Hunter & Outfitter Convention Week

Don’t miss this online extravaganza scheduled for January 25-February 1.

Like so many hunting organizations this year, Grand Slam Club/OVIS was forced to cancel its in-person convention because of COVID concerns. But this sheep-centric organization is still celebrating convention week with an incredible lineup of online auctions, raffles, and events. GSCO’s virtual extravaganza is slated for January 25 to February 1, and if you haven’t done so yet, you’ll want to sign up now so you’re ready to bid on some of the amazing hunting adventures and gear on offer. (Click here: https://auctions.slamquest.org/auctionlist.aspx.)

Be sure to take a peek at the auction catalog, showcasing a huge array of hunting trips, including hunts for Spanish ibex, African plains game, grizzly, ibex, chamois, and tur; high-end scopes and rifles, taxidermy, fine jewelry, and much more. Several desert sheep hunts as well as a tag for a desert sheep in the Navajo nation and a Wyoming Shiras moose governor’s permit are also on the auction block. Auctions will be held daily from Wednesday, January 27, to Saturday, January 30. On Monday, February 1, the lucky winners of incredible raffle prizes ranging from Dall sheep hunts to elk hunts will be drawn.

The organization will also hold awards presentations Wednesday through Saturday of convention week, with hunters from around the world honored for achieving hunting milestones. Awards include the Super Ten, Super 25, and Super Slam Awards, as well as the Grand Slam, Ovis and Capra World Slams, the Rex Baker Super 40, and many more.

Grand Slam Club/Ovis is a 501(C)(3) organization of hunter/conservationists dedicated to improving and perpetuating wild sheep and goat populations worldwide, as well as North American big game. For full details on GSCO’s 17th annual Hunter & Outfitter Convention Week, visit slamquest.org.

Leave a Comment

A Boost for Outdoor Education

A new partnership will help more students learn about hunting and fishing in school.

Above: First-time hunters in the Outdoor Adventures program on a duck hunt at a ranch near Sherman, Texas. All four are students at Southlake Carroll Middle School in Southlake, Texas. Photo courtesy of OTF.

Major donations from the Weatherby Foundation International and Safari Club International Foundation will help the nation’s leading provider of in-school outdoor education – the Outdoors Tomorrow Foundation (OTF) – make its unique Outdoor Adventures (OA) program available to more schools across the nation and get more kids outside.

“This new partnership initiative with the Weatherby Foundation International and Safari Club International Foundation will play a vital role in helping OTF reach its goal of being in 1,000 schools by 2023,” said OTF Executive Director Sean McLelland.

Thanks to the nonprofit OTF, based in Dallas, tens of thousands of kids in big-city schools are getting a full-fledged education in the great outdoors. Students get a physical education credit for taking the class, and in every school where it’s offered, demand to get into the class is high. The Outdoor Adventures education program is offered in more than 620 schools in 39 states nationwide, teaching over 60,000 students each year.

The Weatherby Foundation donated $50,000 to further OTF’s participation in schools. “The Outdoors Tomorrow Foundation is one of the leading organizations working toward expanding youth outdoor education and furthering wildlife conservation efforts worldwide,” said Weatherby Foundation president Ricardo Longoria. “The Weatherby Foundation International is a proud partner and supporter of the organization and its mission.”

Weatherby joins Safari Club International (SCI) Foundation as the latest major donors to OTF. SCI’s mission of ensuring the future of wildlife through conservation, education, and hunting, aligns closely with OTF.

“Both of these outstanding organizations share our passion and commitment for educating the next generation of outdoorsmen and women, so that they will appreciate, respect, and conserve our wildlife, wild spaces and our outdoor heritage,” said OTF Board Chair Ricky Fairchild. “We’re so grateful for their support in furthering our mission.”

The Outdoor Adventures program offered by OTF is a fun, interactive course where students are taught lifelong skills using an integrated curriculum comprised of math, science, writing and critical thinking. Detailed lesson plans cover angler education, archery, hunter education, boater education, orienteering, survival skills, camping, outdoor cooking, challenge course, backpacking, mountain bike camping, paddle sports, rock climbing, shooting sports, CPR/first aid and fauna, flora and wilderness medicine.  The curriculum teaches students about the North American Model of Wildlife Conservation, and provides a hunter safety certification.

Learn more about this great program here: https://sportsafield.com/2020/an-outdoor-education/

To find out how to bring the Outdoor Adventure curriculum to a school near you, go to gootf.com.

Students in the Outdoor Adventures program at Ennis Junior High School in Ennis, Texas, practice their new archery skills with 3D targets on school grounds just outside the gym. Photo courtesy of OTF.

Leave a Comment

Brave New Cartridges

Some of the cartridges developed in recent times are great—but many are simply redundant.

Photo above: A very mature Georgia whitetail, taken with the Springfield Waypoint in 6.5mm PRC. The 6.5mm PRC is ballistically similar to the old .264 Winchester Magnum, but in most rifles with equal barrels is likely to be more accurate.

As we grow older, it’s almost axiomatic that we become more like our parents, whether we wish to or not. When I was a young writer, it seemed that the older writers were all curmudgeons (some lovable, some not!), while the younger crew quickly embraced the new whiz-bangs. Jack O’Connor was among the more outspoken in pooh-poohing brave new cartridges–especially the magnums that grew in popularity in his later years. He remained quite happy with his .270s, and the 7×57 and .30-06.

Still, in a 1960s letter to Bob Chatfield-Taylor (of the .416 Taylor), O’Connor listed the rifles he currently owned–including 7mm Remington Magnum and .300 Weatherby Magnum! Younger writers have probably always been more lavish in their praise of new cartridges than old-timers. It’s probably natural that younger people more readily embrace new stuff, while older folks are more skeptical. Also, of course, younger writers are hungrier, and more desperate for something to write about.

In a business with no mandatory retirement, gunwriters continue until infirmity dictates. So, it wasn’t so long ago that I was a younger writer, and I relished a new cartridge that gave me something to write about. In the quarter-century from about 1980 I was involved in most new cartridge introductions. Through the 1980s and most of the 1990s it was a trickle, and many of the introductions were exciting, such as the .35 Whelen (1988); the resurgence of the .416 (both the .416 Remington and .416 Weatherby Magnums in 1989); and the .260 Remington in 1997.

Today, new cartridge introductions are less frequent than at the turn of the millennium. Newer cartridges of particular interest include: 6.5mm Creedmoor; 6.5mm PRC, and .350 Legend.

Then, in just a few years from 1999, came an astounding spate of short, long, extra-short, and fat-cased unbelted magnums. There were full-length Remington Ultra Magnums, Winchester Short Magnums, Short-Action Remington Ultra Magnums, Winchester Super Short Magnums and, a couple years later, the Ruger Compact Magnums. Among them, I make it fifteen fat-cased unbelted factory cartridges of various case lengths, all carrying the “magnum” moniker. Boy, did we have a lot to write about!

Cartridge design today is well advanced; it’s unlikely for engineers to make genuine mistakes in performance characteristics. And, since most serious shooters have access to reliable chronographs, there isn’t much blue sky in published velocities. So, factory cartridges pretty much do what they’re supposed to. In terms of what they were designed to offer, all of these cartridges are “good.”

The .350 Legend was purpose-designed to meet the “straight-wall case” criteria in former shotgun-only deer states. Boddington hasn’t yet used it on deer, but it proved extremely effective on wild hogs.

However, performance and marketing success don’t always go hand in hand. Shooters have preferences in bullet diameters, velocity parameters, and actions (which require cartridges of finite dimensions). And we all have different recoil tolerances. So not all of us were gonna like all fifteen of these new unbelted magnums. Also, the obvious: None of us could possibly have a need for all of them.

In the early 2000s the procession of new cartridges seemed endless. The American hunting and shooting markets are not unlimited. It seemed unlikely that we could absorb all of these brave new cartridges. Some would prevail, others probably not. I’m pretty sure I predicted this. But, at the time, my job was to write about them, and tell folks whether they did what they were supposed to do (they all did). It was not my job to predict which would be winners and which would be losers. Inevitably, there were both, and several of those unbelted magnums are already gone, with some of the shortest production runs in American cartridge history.

The .300 WSM was the first of the factory short magnums, used to take this big black bear on Vancouver Island in 2001.

Since then, the flood of new factory cartridges has slowed to a trickle. Except for the occasional flurry, that’s the way it has been for a century, with very sporadic new cartridge introductions. That’s probably the way it should be. Between design, tooling, production, and marketing, bringing out a new cartridge is frightfully expensive. Although there were some home runs in that unbelted magnum blizzard at the turn of the millennium, I can’t imagine the cost.

These days, without a constant flood of new cartridges to write about, guys like me must try to be a bit more creative (or retrospective). I don’t want to be curmudgeonly (like the older gunwriters I grew up with!), but I tend to think we have about all the centerfire cartridges we really need, and there’s a lot of redundancy in performance. Hmm, maybe I am becoming a curmudgeon! Unlike my younger days, in recent years I’ve been slower to embrace new cartridges among today’s slow trickle. And, as a writer, I no longer bombard manufacturers with “me first!” pleas.

In this past year, most uncharacteristically, I have spent a bit of time hunting with several fairly new cartridges, including the 6.5mm Creedmoor, 6.5mm PRC, and .350 Legend. The 6.5mm Creedmoor is certainly not “new,” but its rise to stardom has been recent.

I have been publicly (and curmudgeonly) outspoken in my lack of enthusiasm for the 6.5mm Creedmoor. I will not reverse myself. It’s a wonderful example of performance redundancy: Ballistically, it is almost identical to the .260 Remington, and similar to the old 6.5x55mm Swedish Mauser. That is not damning with faint praise: Both the .260 and 6.5×55 are great little cartridges. However, especially in these days of pandemic shortages and political uncertainty, there is much to be said for popular cartridges (which translates to widespread availability).

A .338 RUM accounted for this Lichtenstein’s hartebeest. The 7mm, .338, and .375 Remington Ultra Magnum cartridges were all first used on safari in Tanzania in 2000. All are excellent…but not all have become popular.

I do own a 6.5mm Creedmoor. Great little cartridge, and it offers the advantage of a short, efficient case so, in short actions, it does well with longer, heavier bullets. Because of this, and with the inherent burning efficiency of shorter (and thus relatively fatter) cases, it is probably a better long-range target cartridge than the .260 Remington or the older European 6.5mms. At medium range it is not a better hunting cartridge, and (at least in my opinion) none of these milder 6.5mms carry enough energy to reliably take big game at long ranges.

Depending on size of game and one’s personal definition of “long range,” the faster 6.5mms definitely do. As we know, there is now a spate of them. In part, this is because the Creedmoor’s popularity awakened new interest in the 6.5mm, and bullet selection has greatly expanded. I haven’t used all the new 6.5mms and I probably won’t. But I’ve used several, including the fastest, the 6.5mm Weatherby Magnum and 26 Nosler. This fall, I’ve used both the 6.5mm PRC and the proprietary 6.5mm SST (Sherman Short Tactical). Both (if I can be forgiven a curmudgeonly comment), are ballistically similar to the old .264 Winchester Magnum, introduced in 1958 and hovering on obsolescence. Honest, I had a passing thought that I should rechamber my .264 to a newer case design. Fortunately, the impulse passed! My .264, with a great barrel, is very accurate. And, built on a rare left-hand Santa Barbara Mauser action, it feeds perfectly. It would probably shoot as well with a modern case design, but feeding could be an issue, and not worth the risk.

Unless you’re a serious rifle crank, non-standard (wildcat or proprietary) cartridges are problematic, but the 6.5mm PRC is interesting, with a short, efficient unbelted case, intended for use with today’s long, aerodynamic 6.5mm bullets. This fall, I’m using it in a Springfield Waypoint, a super-modern “tactically inspired” rifle that shoots great. Performance is, well, no different from what I get from the archaic .264, roundabout 3,000 fps with a more-or-less 140-grain bullet. I figure this to be the 6.5mm “sweet spot,” much better downrange performance than is possible with the Creedmoor and its ilk, but not as much muzzle blast and recoil, and not as finicky as the fastest 6.5mms.

Steve Hornady with a fine Cape buffalo, perhaps the first animal taken with the .375 Ruger, introduced in 2006. Although not as popular as the .375 H&H, it is somewhat faster. Perhaps it has survived on merit…or perhaps because its name doesn’t carry the over-used “magnum” term.

Winchester’s .350 Legend is a classic “purpose-driven” cartridge, intended for use in the (now five) important whitetail states that allow “straight-wall” (and thus relatively short-range) centerfire rifle cartridges in lieu of traditional shotguns with slugs (and muzzleloaders). It is sized to be adaptable to AR platforms, and also other actions. The many American .35-caliber rifle cartridges have traditionally used .358-inch bullets. The Legend uses slightly smaller 9mm bullets (which were standard in European rifle as well as handgun cartridges). This allows manufacturing efficiency, and also lower cost practice ammunition using 9mm pistol bullets.

Larry and Erin Tremaine brought a .350 Legend AR to our Kansas farm last year and took multiple does with it. I haven’t personally used the Legend for deer, but I’m applying in Iowa (which now allows straight-wall cartridges), so I have a Mossberg Patriot in .350 Legend. Although not as fast as the .358 Winchester, it’s faster than the famous old .35 Remington, neither of which would be allowed under straight-wall-cartridge rules.  So, I have a Mossberg Patriot in .350 Legend, and I’ve used it to take several wild hogs, very effective.

There are many brave new cartridges I haven’t used, and I certainly won’t get around to all of them. But I’m still willing to try new stuff–provided it makes sense.

Leave a Comment

Weathering the Storm

Getting caught out in an unexpected snowstorm, whether you’re on foot or in a vehicle, is no joke.

Photo above: Winter is a beautiful time of year, but getting stuck in a white-out can be deadly. Photo by Vic Schendel

Snowstorms can blow in fast and hard. In the mountains, thick, wind-driven snowfalls can quickly cut visibility to a few yards or less. Travel–whether on foot, horseback, or even in a vehicle–can be slow, dangerous, or completely halted. Trails and roads become impassable. It’s very easy to get lost, even in familiar country, and if not lost, then simply stranded and forced to survive the harsh elements.

On the plains, screaming winds can blow snow more sideways than down. There are fresh-snowfall blizzards and blizzards of whipped-up ground snow, and often there is a mixture of both. “Pouderies,” they called these terrible white-outs in the Old West fur-trapper days. There are also “northers,” sudden wind-blasts that seem to appear out of nowhere and turn snow crystals into blinding pellets. Steep temperature drops, severe windchill factors, and a lack of protective cover add to both the misery and danger of being “caught out” in open country. 

From autumn into winter, in the mountains and on the plains, snowstorms are responsible for a high percentage of search-and-rescue efforts involving lost or stranded hunters. Most of these hunters end up enduring some pretty grueling ordeals before they are rescued. And of course, some don’t make it. A few hunters survive the experience in pretty good shape. These are the comparative minority who started out well-prepared for a possible snowstorm emergency, and who knew what to do when it occurred. 

Although anyone can be surprised and overtaken by a sudden storm, it’s worth noting that often, dangerous snowfall blasts announce their approach well ahead of arrival. Not only does the sky show signs of an incomer, but the storm itself might appear in subtle or obviously progressive stages. Smart hunters maintain an alert weather eye and read environmental clues–such as thickening or darkening clouds (especially those showing increased vertical height and blackened, roiling bottoms), changes in the direction or force of the wind, signs of a falling barometer, and of course the first, possibly light appearance of snowflakes. By accurately reading the weather you can sometimes get a jump on storm arrival and either head immediately for safety or at least locate the best possible place to hunker down and withstand the storm’s brunt and duration.

But let’s say for one reason or another you are caught out, and suddenly realize a bad storm is roaring in, or perhaps has already hit. The initial and vitally important decision is: Should you try to push on anyway, braving the elements while staggering toward ostensible safety, or should you shelter up and ride it out? The best choice depends entirely on the specific situation, but more often than not it’s a mistake to flounder on in low-visibility, high-danger conditions. Too many bad things can happen, and your chances of getting lost, exhausted, frostbitten, hypothermic, or outright killed rise substantially. The exception would be when you know for certain that safety can be reached with a comparatively short, physically plausible effort. Otherwise, at the first sign that you’re caught in a serious storm, it’s generally best to shift into survival mode.

Step one is to survey the surroundings. Where and how can you escape, or at least minimize the brunt of the elements? In a snowstorm this means getting out of the wind and staying or becoming dry. Wind chills can be deadly, and even an imperfect windbreak makes a difference. With any increase in wind exposure, the rate of personal heat loss is exponential. For example, an 8 mph wind whisks away four times more body heat than a 4 mph wind. As for the effect of moisture, you can lose body heat as much as 30 times faster if your skin and clothing are wet. So the need to avoid wind and stay dry is paramount.

Natural windbreaks include thick copses of trees, hollows beneath large conifers, large boulders or rock formations, caves, ravines and (in open country) any kind of trench-like “cut,” coulee, or arroyo. The very best sites are also close to a source of firewood or other easily gathered fuel.

In some circumstances, once you find a good natural windbreak, there will be time and materials to fashion an emergency shelter. In other cases the best you can do is get out of the wind and wrap up in whatever air-and-moisture barrier you have on hand. This could be a tarp, space blanket, hooded parka, rainsuit, heavy-plastic trash bag, and so on. Insulation of various kinds (dry dead leaves, grasses, man-made materials) can be stuffed inside the wrap and also inside your clothing to help retain warmth.

In very open country, such as the northern plains, the only way out of the wind might be by digging a deep, narrow trench in the snow, lining its bottom with whatever insulating or water-resistant materials are on hand, and lying down inside, literally beneath the blowing storm, while you wait for it to pass over. This is hardly pleasant, but many people, including plains Indians and frontiersmen, used the tactic to survive when other, less savvy individuals stayed above ground and perished.

In any type of terrain, if you locate a good wind-and-snow-break and have ample fire fuel on hand, you can survive a storm simply by building a large fire (making it longer, not taller, to warm more of your body) and positioning yourself between the fire and a heat-reflecting surface such as a boulder, rock wall, or the metallic side of a space blanket.

When time and materials allow, the optimal strategy is to fashion an emergency shelter, especially one combined with a warming fire. Shelter-making is a huge subject, but a few basic tips can be helpful. First, unless you’ve trained in shelter building, go for the simplest possible construction. One example is the basic lean-to. Start with two sturdy 3- to 4-foot sticks sharpened and driven into the ground on an angle so that they cross at the top, forming a V. Then use a 6- to 8-foot stick/branch for a ridgepole, resting one end inside the V, angling the remaining length down to the ground. Lash these tight if possible. A tarp or space blanket can be draped over this frame and pegged down to make an open-faced shelter (facing away from the wind). Seal the base area, where the tarp meets the ground, with packed snow. Additional snow can be packed up the walls to aid insulation. (Lacking a tarp, layer in branches, conifer boughs, and other natural materials to form the sides and top of the shelter, then seal everything off with a tight packing of snow.) The ground inside the shelter should be insulated with whatever dry material is available. If a fire can be built near the mouth of the lean-to, all the better. 

For modern hunters, the dangers of a snowstorm or blizzard exist not only in the field, but also inside our motorized vehicles. Getting storm-stranded on a highway or back road can be its own kind of life-or-death survival situation. The most important thing to remember if you have to shelter in a vehicle during a snowstorm is that carbon monoxide (CO) poisoning is a real danger. About 1,500 people in America die in their cars each winter from CO poisoning, usually while stranded and running their engines and heaters to stay warm. When drifting snow (or packing from a slide-off) clogs the exhaust pipe, fumes back up and leak into the interior. Odorless CO kills people before they even realize they are being poisoned. So rule number one: check periodically to be sure your exhaust pipe is cleared of all snow. 

Next, when a storm is raging, stay with your car unless help is clearly reachable. Bundle up to stay warm, and run the engine and heater in ten or fifteen minute intervals to preserve fuel. If fuel runs out, the vehicle might not remain your best shelter, but it can still be a source of lifesaving resources. A hubcap can be used to dig a snow cave or trench, or it can serve as a dry fire-base. Dipstick oil soaked into a rag or paper makes a good firestarter. Maps can be rolled tight to serve as kindling. Slash open seats and use the foam for insulation to be stuffed inside coats or boots. Floor mats can be wrapped around your torso, legs or feet; or they can be used as insulating, waterproof ground pads for an outdoor shelter. When cold-storm strandings are a possibility, it’s smart to prep your vehicle with a shovel, a winter-rated sleeping bag, and a pair of lightweight snowshoes for each person aboard. Add an axe and some pre-split logs in case you need to rely on an emergency outdoor fire.    

When dangerous snowstorms hit, those who have the good sense to “be prepared” generally fare best, with the least misery and injury. Where I live in the Rockies, even mid-September can be snow time in the high country, and from October on, both the mountains and the plains are fair targets for northers, snow dumps, and even white-out “pouderies.”

For me, essential equipment (in addition to a standard survival kit) includes: an overkill of firestarters (matches, lighters, candle stubs, home-made tinder, commercial fire cubes, metal-match “sparking” device); a lightweight shelter tarp; at least one metallic-sided space blanket; four heavyweight yard-size plastic trash bags (for extra wind and moisture protection, vapor barriers, etc.); a large metal cup and spoon (for snow-melting water and emergency cooking); a lightweight, plastic digging tool (to aid emergency shelter-building); a 25-foot roll of parachute cord; commercial hand and foot warming packets and insoles; spare wool socks; a balaclava or similar head and neck covering; gloves and/or mittens, and a “food sack” containing high-energy protein bars, packets of dried soup and a wide-mouthed plastic bottle of energy-enhanced, extra-crunchy peanut butter. If I’m going to suffer a night or two out in a snowstorm, I’m going to suffer as comfortably as possible.

Leave a Comment

tablet

Never Miss An Issue!Subscribe Now: 6 Issues for $34.97

More Details
WordPress Video Lightbox Plugin