Thread: My weekend experience...

This is a VERY LONG POST

Since the fishing appears to be slow, here's a little humor on my behalf

11/8/15
Location: Dave’s(my stepfather) front field
Weather: Wet, misting, 60 degrees, with a slight NorthWest wind 2-4mph.

Today started off like most Sundays around the Cleland house, with the exception that Lizzy(awesome daughter) had spent the night with my mother so they could get up and head to NOLA to visit with my grandmother. After we got stirring, Kelsey(crazy wife) and I rode out to my mother and Dave’s(stepdad) house to cook lunch and build some deer stands.
We arrived and began preparing lunch, I lit the charcoal, and Kelsey seasoned the steaks and peeled potatoes. While the coals were getting right, I noticed somenice size squab on the power line about 120 yards across the field. It’s atthis point I always get excited, I have a fierce love for small game hunting with my customized Benjamin Marauder bb gun in .25 caliber.
*For those of you who don’t know what a Benjamin Marauder or squab is, please allowme to clarify: The Marauder is a mid-level high pressure air rifle that shoots a .25 caliber pellet at 900fps, and does so extremely accurately, with little sound(60dB), and no recoil. A squab is simply a pigeon.*
Knowing my quarry was at the perfect distance for a long range shot from the front porch I walked to my gun case in the car and got set up in my favorite Adirondack chair. Now for the tricky part, to hit a baseball size target with a pellet gun at just over 100 yards with the wind blowing and a light rain coming down requires a certain amount of patience and skill. I did the math in my headright quick for the trajectory, placed the scope on 10.1 power, rested the 3^rdmil-dot in the squab’s chest, slid the safety off, engaged the 1^ststage of the trigger, cleared the second stage of the trigger, and bam! I watchas the bird takes a 25.34grain pellet to the chest and falls to the ground. Our champion biscuit eater (a AKC Chesapeake Retriever named Bear) went with me to retrieve as always, but on this occasion we were dog sitting a heel biter, you know what I mean, one of them high priced mixes that’s all the rage these days, well the heel biter followed along into the field and decided to hang out there for a while.
One bird down, time to grill some steaks, as the steaks simmered nice and slow, more birds came in. Soon after I was already up to 5 birds in the bag with 3 lost birds; I had to stop and charge my gun back to 3000psi to ensure optimal accuracy at long distance. The steaks were done, and my wife called me in to get ready for lunch. Dave, Kelsey, and I ate and shot the breeze for a little while, and each time I walked to the door I could see in the distance the birds coming in on the line. We finished up lunch, and washed the dishes, I bet you can guess where I was headed, that’s right, back to my Adirondack chair on the porch.
As I sat there I could see the heel biter near a power pole out in the field, Bear was naturally by my side waiting for a kill to retrieve. I had 3 squabs on the line. Now a feral squab is not something that is an easy kill when flying, if you think for one minute that dove hunting is a challenge, you should up the difficulty by trying to shoot these guys, and they can do all sorts of unique aerial maneuvers to dodge your shots. I lined up on the furthest bird and bam! Gravity took effectand he hit the earth. I noticed that there was still 1 bird left on the line so I bolted another round into the chamber and squeezed off another round. Now Ihave 2 down right next to each other, this day was turning out to be quite productive.
I decided to retrieve my birds before the rain got worse so Bear and I set off toget them. Now to give you an idea of how long a walk it is to get to the birds, you need to understand that the front yard that borders the field is blocked by a 200 yard chain-link fence. The walk around is not to bad, but it is raining and after walking it many times I was getting tired of it. I got to the birds; Bear took them back to the house, while I decided to just go to a tree next to the fence and “hop” over. I did like all well trained sportsmen and placed my gun over the fence accordingly, then hopped over.
As I sat on the porch another squab flew up, got lead poisoning, and hit the earth. Kelsey was now out on the porch watching me interact with the pigeons and providing me company and small talk. I decided the shortcut was quick and took less effort so I grabbed my air rifle and walked the 20 yards to the fence and hopped right over into the thick muddy field, as I picked up my gun, I felt that sensation that is well known to most country boys, that sensation of a pop and burn with extreme pain, the kind ofpain that makes you run and swat at the same time. I had stepped on a massive yellow jacket hive and they had started stinging my head and legs. I was wearing a set of Lacrosse Arrowhead knee high hunting boots that I had purchased from Waldo’s Sport Center. When my body realized I was being attacked, I gripped my gun tightly with my left hand and ran for yonder so hard that I left my right boot in the mud. Now I am sprinting across, no running for my life across the muddy field with one boot on and the other foot soaked in mud to mid shin. I would have easily given Fournette a run for his money at this point. I got nearly 40 yards away and paused to turn around, at that moment I saw the heel biter blaze past me with a head full of swarming yellow jackets, the poor mutt face planted in the mud and began to moan, and then he tore off across the 250 yard field out of sight. I noticed more pain on my left leg and I was being attacked by dozensmore of these little devils. I ran for home with all my might. Swatting and slapping my body with my right arm. I had succeeded in getting them off my clothes. I set my gun down in the yard, walked to my chair and sat down. *this entire incident occurred whilst my wife of 3 years laughed and sat watching me struggle to get free of those yellowjackets*
Now free from harm’s way I could sit and “lick” my wounds. I began to take my boot off only to find somehow several more yellow jackets had clung to the inside of my pants leg and at that moment commenced to sting me. I jumped up and sprinted around the large porch trying to kill them, Bear came to my rescue as he apparently could seethem flying around me. Bear was quick enough to get 3 or 4 of them by snapping them, and then one popped him on the head, and made him decide to vacate the premises. At this point I had no options left in my mind. I stripped to my looms and ran inside, where I stayed for an hour or so.
After gathering(carefully) my clothes off the porch and loading the washer and then the dryer I noticed more birds on the line. So barefooted with old sweat pants on, I slipped over to my chair and took the shot. I connected and then realized…..Dang I got to go get him now. I had no problem walking to extra distance to go around the fence, through the mud bare footed, to retrieve my kill. On the way out I eased, very, very slowly, to the boot of mine that was standing stuck in themud 2 foot away from Satan himself(a washtub worth of black and yellow little bastages). I got low to the ground and stretched my gun out to lean the boot towards to just a bit then I snatched the boot and hunted some yonder. Once I made it back to the house I cleaned my kills, washed my legs off and cleaned up my gun and boots. I now realized I had a very successful day even with the mishaps. I hada freezer bag full of delicious pigeon, and I was still alive with my equipment intact.
The lesson that can be learned from this story is: Never take a shortcut. Keep plenty of diesel fuel around the farm, and no matter how muddy, just take the fourwheeler to get the dang birds.

Sorry you got stung but that is some funny sh#t right there!

I feel for ya, I feel your pain... Oh wait that is my ribs hurting from laughing so hard.
Them birds better taste really good.

Yellow Jackets are no fun. I was fishing around a farm pond here in Birmingham and got hit several times and had to go into the pond.
On the other hand I love my air rifles. Have never used a PCP but plan on getting one in the future Mainly is shoot a .177 Gamo I have had for several years. Deadly accurate on small game.

Thanks for the laugh and sorry for the pain. Cant stand those yellow jackets either

Don't you hate it when one gets inside your shirt? The only way to kill it is to hit yourself, and you end up with both stings and bruises.