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First shooting experiences


philapper
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I had been shooting for quite a while before I shot at live quarry. My friend quite correctly insisted on my getting it right on clays first.

 

With an eye dominance problem that took some time to sort out, I will never forget the day that I shot my first rabbit.

 

We were on a farm in Scotland, staying in a caravan. We decided to go for a walk around with the shotguns. We had not moved more than 100 yards from the caravan when an opertunity came along. I must have shot at hundreds of clay rabbits, when suddenly here was the real thing. Could I, should I, all in an instant.

 

Bang! one dead rabbit. that shot was many years ago, but I can still picture it in my minds eye, and savour the stew that that rabbit and a couple of others made that day. Pigeon followed on the same day, but the rabbit is the shot that I am sure I will remember untill my dying day.

 

webber

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Thats more like it!!!

Its amazing what goes through your head in a split second. I remember my first driven pheasant day after being a clay shooter for a couple years. Surrounding a wood the whistles blew and not one bird came over my peg. As the beaters reached the edge of the wood, a Hare bolted straight at me and in blind (but safe) panic I let it go behind the line before deciding to pull the trigger. one dead hare, and congratulations from the shoot captain on a sure and safe shot. :lol::lol: Later the guns let me know what they were really thinking as it bolted!!! (peppered beaters!!)

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My fondest memory came when I shot my first fox.

We were hunting some scrub land and because I was the least experienced gun I got the stand were the fox was least likely to go.

 

So I was standing well covered day dreaming when I saw something pop out of some cover about 100 yards to the right of me, I tilted my head slightly to the side and notest a fox standing. Now I knew it was much too far away so I never moved a muscle and the fox gradually came towards me.

After about 5 mins the fox was almost in range, but I wasn't in a shooting position so I had to creep around the whin bush and I spotted a clearing where I would shoot the fox in.

 

Another couple of minutes passed and the fox heard a noise behind and made a bolt across the clearing that I had picked out, I popped up about 25 yards away from the fox and scored with a great head shot. I walked over and to my delight the fox was dead, everyone gradually gathered and congratulated me on my first fox. :lol:

 

I have shot a fair few foxes since then but that one is the one I will always remember.

 

Ollie :lol:

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My first woodcock was last season. I was standing on the edge of a wood, the only gun in the field. Not much was happening till a woodcock came jagging out of the pines in front of me, only to dart back in. A moment later he popped out 20yds away, curled round, and took the full force of my 20g.

 

My first phesant was on the first drive of the day, the mist was just rising from a field of stubble. The drive had thrown up no birds at all, untill a lone, solitary hen bird erupted from the cover. All eyes were on it as it soared 30yds up, coming straight for me, I raised my 20 swung straight through and squeezed. She came down like a sack of bricks :lol:

 

I also shot me first L+R on that day too.

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Went pigeon shooting with my dad for the first time last year, We set up our new rotor after shooting the first two over decoys. I managed to shoot a further 29 on my first day and dad only got 11. He said he was proud but I think in his heart he wished I'd stayed at home!!!!

 

Went on a local pheasant/rough shoot for a couple of days this year and managed to shoot my first Mallard. I was so excited I cooked it for Sunday dinner for my mum and dad as a thankyou for my birthday treat. Want to have a go at a proper duck shoot next season and hopefully bag a left and right!!!

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Well my first hunting experience was a rabbit with a catpult, I musy have only been 5 or 6. I coverd my self in camo face paint and stuck leaves in my hat I rembered what my dad said if you want to get close to an animal go with the wind in your face and move slowly and quietly.

Id been stalking rabbits all day and they had all run off and none in catpult range when I descided to lay up and wait and I waited for what seamed like 2 Hours till a big buck rabbit poped out of his burrow a few meters away, I drew back the catpult loaded with the biggest roundest stone I could find I wasnt expecting to hit the rabbit but I hit it head with a load smack noise it rolled over on to its back and I ran over as fast as I could and rembered what dad had showed me hundreds of times before and broke the rabbits neck. I took him over to my dad in the field oppisite were he was rolling with the tractor he showed me how to gut and skin the rabbit. I will neaer forget that day.

 

P.S The funny thing was I never got anouther rabbit on my own out of hundres of trips till I got my air gun 3 Years later.

 

My first phesant was on the estate beaters shoot with my first shotgun a Investarm I got from the C.L.A game fare another good day.

 

Also the first time I tryed my lincoln premier I got an over and under on 2 tree rats that ran out under the gamekeepers feed hoppers full pelt. The best shots I have ever made shame since then I just seam to get worse! :yp:

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Back in 1984 I lived in Cornwall - about a mile or two from Padstow I was aged 11/12.

 

My dad and the local RAF padré used to shoot a farm about 15 mins away and, once I had gotten bored with horse riding on a Sat morning (my mum's influence) I soon started joining "the boys".

 

My first kill was using my dad's spanish S/S 12 bore - At the end of an afternoon we were beneath a tree waiting for roosting pigeon - one comes down the valley and keep s on coming - I start to track it, it keeps coming, I'm trying to remember all about lead and following through, it keeps on coming "fire" says my dad - I hesitate then it disappears above the tree canopy I'm beneath as I'm tracking it - I fire and think I've let the opportunity go.

 

A second or two later a dead pigeon flopped to the ground 10 metres away.

 

I was the only one, out of the three of us, not to blank that day

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The first living thing I ever shot was a grey squirrel. I was 11 years old and had been out with my Gramp.

 

He was ex Glos Royal Hussar and saw action in many campaigns in both wars in the Middle East, Egypt & North Africa. He was a quite brilliant shot.

 

One day we were out shooting woodland just outside his home and I was using a Ladies German 16 g which belonged to his Employer.

 

There were rabbits popping up everywhere and my gramp had already shot 6 or so for the pot... I had missed everything I loosed at and had a pocket full of empty cases.

 

During the last walk up of the day I was feeling pretty fed up about the whole affair, when I spotted a couple of grey squirrels chasing each other through the beech canopy above. It was early may and the leaves were not quite in full bloom.

 

My gramps Sprnger, Lisa a wonderful, intelligent dog had spotted them too and when both squirrels ran from an isolated copse of trees to try and make the main cover she headed one off and it sped up a large sycamore which was about 30 feet from the main wood.

 

Lisa ran around the bottom barking at the Grey, which must have been petrified.

 

On my Gramps advice I waited until it had started to move toward the very top of the tree. "He will run along the top branch and try to leap for cover" said my Gramp, "but will probably stop motionless for a few seconds midway before making the leap. Follow him with the gun and pull when he stops."

 

The grey did stop but in my excitement I missed with the first barrel and the squirrel lept. More in hope than judgement I followed through with the second barrell and hit as the grey was more or less in mid air... Complete fluke but Gramp said not. The grey fell to the floor mortally wounded and as a last defiant gesture bit the dog as she went to pick it up.

 

I cradled its still warm body in my hands and felt a great remorse, I was intoxicated by the killing of a small helpless animal. "Give it here you big cissy said Gramp" and he cut off its tail and threw the carcass to the dog. "This will make a few good flies.."

 

I suppose he had shot at a few people in his time and wasnt particularly concerned about a stinky old Grey.

 

FM.

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Right with you there FM ! MY dad had a BSA .22 rimfire, which I "borrowed" one evening when he & mum went to the pub (No gun safes in those days, and his wardrobe door didn't lock !)

 

Shooting the ceramic isolators was great fun :yp:

 

It scares me today when I think just how dangerous it could have been...luckily our farm backed onto the Pennines so there was 10 miles of open moor between us and anyone else.

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