Headed south to KY on Sunday with the oldest. We toted the 22's, one a fine little Ruger 77/22 of about 1986 vintage with the original 4X scope that my son used. I slung the Marlin Model 81DL that was a fun rehab project over the last winter with the goal of falling a grey with the open sights on the nearly 80 year old rifle. I wrote about this project earlier this year in the Gunsmithing forum of this board. It isn't stunning, but quite gratifying to have in working condition after being stored for decades in an old blanket by the former owner.
After setting up camp we eased up the trail to make use of our rifles in the tall trees that make up the canopy of the Daniel Boone Nat'l Forest. The Son became aggravated after missing two shots in a row, but after I assured him that if he holds the crosshairs dead on success will soon follow. He followed this advise and proceeded to anchor the next grey he spotted. Then, as he was slipping on toward another squirrel I eased up the trail another 50 or so yards to scan the branches between all the leaves. Not long my presence was too much for a particular bushytail. It just had to fuss at me as it descended down a trunk not too far to the west. Stopping in the only small open space between the foliage long enough to acquire the sight picture necessary the old Marlin cracked out a vintage W Super Speed 22LR HP accurately. Instantly the creature fell to the forest floor with a satisfying thump. Moments later the Ruger in my son's hands did the same behind me, with the telltale sodden impact sound that only dead squirrels make when hitting the soft earth.
Back at camp that evening we (I) skinned them, wrapped the carcasses in a bag and placed them on ice in the cooler, fully expecting the next couple days would produce plenty more to store beside these three. That wasn't to be. This was the quietest squirrel hunt we've ever experienced, only sighting 3 more at a distance and hearing three more bark off deep in the woods. We packed up a day early and drove back to SW Ohio to at least feel productive in our normal daily routines. But in all reality, it wasn't about the squirrels as much as the experience together and the small getaway. The plus was that I was successful in potting this one small game animal with an old 22 that has a neat little action, though finicky in its function. But, I am getting a tad older, too, and willing to finesse the bolt to keep an old piece of American firearms history in the field, or in this case, the woods.