Late For Work

Tuesday morning started out like most – get up, make a cup of coffee, check email, get dressed, feed the dogs, and head over to my shop 45 miles across the mountain. There are two routes from home to shop; the lower course through cedar and piñon-juniper flats and the shorter upper route, through still snow blanketed ponderosa pine, Doug fir and aspen forest. Packing two new “adult” air rifles recently sent to me by Crosman for testing, I chose the longer lower course where spotting small game would be more likely.

My first stop was to check an old prairie dog town, located in a dry water catchment, for signs of springtime activity. A pair of coyotes apparently had the same idea, and I watched from 700 yards across the basin as they methodically checked the burrows. “What a dummy…” I thought, as I had no rifle with me to take advantage of the opportunity. And to make matters worse, the prior evening I had taken the new Knight muzzleloader that I was preparing for a trip to South Africa out of my truck!

While beating myself up, the coyotes suddenly bedded down. I watched for a minute and they looked relaxed and content, so I dropped out of sight and took off on a dead run for the truck. Could I possibly drive home, grab a rifle and make it back in time to get a shot? The attempt would require a little more than half an hour… what the heck, it was worth a try!

On the way home I decided to go for it with the new muzzleloader. Of course, it was freshly cleaned and locked in the safe. After sliding to a stop in the driveway, I ran inside, unlocked the safe grabbed the muzzleloader and laser rangefinder, located powder, primers and bullets and shoved them into a fanny pack along with a short bullet starter, took a minute to explain to the wife what was happening (!), then took a few more minutes to prepare a couple of loads and foul the muzzleloader barrel by popping a primer. The drive back out was agonizingly slow – particularly the 15 mph crawl through the school zone part – and of course, upon arrival the songdogs were gone from their resting spot. It took several minutes but, thanks to Mr. Swarovski, I finally located the pair on the far side of the basin. It looked like the earthen dam would provide the cover I needed to get close, so after picking out a small bush on the crest of the mostly barren dam as a reference point, I pushed powder and bullet down the muzzleloader barrel, moved out of sight into the treeline, and sprinted across the flat. Well… at 60 years of age, it was honestly more like jog, rest while huffing & puffing, and repeat – several times.

After crawling up the dirt bank into position and priming the rifle, I realized the barrel would be too low to attempt a prone shot while remaining hidden. Using the Bog Pod I carried was also not an option, as both coyotes were once again bedded but facing directly toward my position about 100 yards away. I slithered back down the slope, pulled off my camo sweatshirt and rolled it up to provide the elevation needed for muzzle clearance, then belly-crawled back up pushing the gun and makeshift rest ahead. Perfect! As the rangefinder confirmed the shot would be 117 yards one of the pair got up and resumed checking burrows. When he stopped nearly broadside with head cocked downward in listening pose, I noted the stiff quartering wind (25-30 mph), allowed a guestimated 3 inches for bullet drift, and carefully squeezed the trigger to avoid pulling the open sights off the mark. The “Dead Center” bullet lived up to its name, delivering a solid “thwack” as the big dog dropped in his tracks. It was exactly one hour from the time I had left the scene to retrieve a rifle, and the brand new Knight Mountaineer muzzleloader was no longer a virgin. Now, with a requisite self-photo session to document the event awaiting, I was going to be really late for work… Good thing I own the place!