This story takes place on the farm, several years back when I was still in college at WVU. I had managed to get away from Morgantown for a weekend to do some deer hunting. Chris Barnett, a.k.a. "Beernut," was home from working on the river and he called me and said that he needed to sight his rifle in. He asked if I was going to be around to visit and I told him that I would be hunting the next day. He said that he'd be coming up during the middle of the day after my morning hunt at which time he would go sight his rifle in and maybe do some hunting.
That Saturday morning, I woke up and went hunting but didn't see anything worth taking so I headed back to the house at around 10:00. When I arrived, Dad said that Beernut was here and that he was down at the Old House sighting his in his .243. I grabbed a bite to eat and headed off.
When I arrived, Beernut was cussing. "God damn it, I can't get this thing sighted in!" It was fairly windy by then so I figured that the breezes were causing him trouble. I asked him, "Mind if I try?" Beernut agreed and so I fired a few rounds, with the groupings looking more like something from a 12 gauge than a .243. I said, "What in the hell's wrong with this thing." I first checked to see if the barrel was resting on the rifle rest, nope. Next I asked Beernut, "Are all these shells the same or are they mix and match?" Beernut, "Yeah, they're all the same, I just bought the box last night!" "Hmmm," I replied. Finally it dawned on me that the scope mounts must be loose. After tightening the hell out of them, we discovered that they were indeed loose. "That's why you can't get your groups tight!" Beernut fired a few rounds and sure enough they were holding within 1 inch of each other. "Damn, I wish I would have figured that out earlier, I've only got a few shells left out of this box. Why don't you finish sighting it in?" I agreed to sight it in the rest of the way. After all the rounds we had spent sighting the gun in, Beernut was left with one round, the last of his newly purchased box of shells. Beernut replied, "Well that figures, I'm going to have to go get another box." I kind of chuckled. "Fuck it, let's go riding around and see if we can catch one in the open."
I wanted to take my gun along but since we were just riding a few hundred yards past where we just fired 19 rounds I didn't expect to see anything! Anyone who's been down to the Old House knows that our rifle range sits out in front, and is situated down in a big open hollow. It was down this hollow that we drove the 4-wheeler. "STOP, STOP, STOP," Beernut said. He always seems to say things more than once regardless of the situation. Anyway, I stopped the 4-wheeler as Beernut rolled his fat ass off to take a rest on the ground. I looked around and much to my disbelief saw a doe bedded down. Beernut sighted in and made the old doe bed down a little closer to the ground with a single shot from his freshly sighted in .243 Remington. I started laughing, I couldn't believe that the deer had bedded down and literally listened to us fire 19 rounds not 200 yards from where she was bedded. I went back to get the camera to capture the moment and got a classic picture of Beernut with the doe. 19 shots and 1 kill, pretty remarkeable. Sure, there have been piss-poor hunters who fire 40 shots before they bring down a deer. But the time and manner in which Beernut took 19 shots to kill 1 deer is truly unparalleled |
