Larry Eckart
Four Pointer
Guys,
I am a retired newbie to North Carolina after working in SC for nine years and Michigan for twenty-six years.
I know that in the minds of many hunters today, small game is just that: small. Deer is the deal. That is fine. I am not a deer hunter. Ever since my wife and I moved to North Carolina this past summer, I had been looking forward to getting out in a good woods filled with hickories, oaks and beech trees. I was interested in returning to a pleasure of my youth: squirrel hunting. Hardly anyone hunts them anymore. While I would still look out for bow hunters, I would have the woods for the most part to myself.
And I did. After scouting a few days I found several woods on a public game land that was filled with the trees that squirrels love.
I was out this past Monday morning, opening day, at the crack of dawn. In order to get into a back area away from bow hunters, I used my boat and not just my legs. Motoring out in the fog, I looked up and was surprised by a streaking group of 15 ringnecks. I wanted to ask them, “What are you doing down here already?”
I tied up my boat about five feet from shore so that the waves of passing boats would not throw it up on shore. After loading my newly acquired and sighted, Marlin 60, I let the woods take me in. It had rained the previous night. It was cool, wet and quiet. The woods were everything I remembered from my youth. I feel sorry for the boy and the man who does not know the feeling of being surrounded by something greater than himself. The woods and marsh, though quite different, have that in common: the sense of being surrounded by something greater than yourself.
I can be pretty intense when I get to hunting. This day, I let myself relax. I looked around not just for game, but at the setting. There is something stable and rooted and comforting by the presence of 60-75’ oaks and hickories. From my world viewpoint, it is pretty cool to think of God as someone who would be interested in making hickories and oaks and mornings like that one. In such company there is peace and renewal and satisfaction and gratitude.
Squirrels. There were many squirrels. There were no other hunters. The Marlin model 60 may be as old as the trees of my morning. But that is one straight shooting gun. As the pic bears testimony.
Larry
PS: I know that squirrel meat has the reputation of being tough. I found that while there is an outer membrane (correct term?) that is somewhat tough, inside that outer skin the meat is as tender as you might wish it to be. Grilled to 135 degrees. Mmm good!
I am a retired newbie to North Carolina after working in SC for nine years and Michigan for twenty-six years.
I know that in the minds of many hunters today, small game is just that: small. Deer is the deal. That is fine. I am not a deer hunter. Ever since my wife and I moved to North Carolina this past summer, I had been looking forward to getting out in a good woods filled with hickories, oaks and beech trees. I was interested in returning to a pleasure of my youth: squirrel hunting. Hardly anyone hunts them anymore. While I would still look out for bow hunters, I would have the woods for the most part to myself.
And I did. After scouting a few days I found several woods on a public game land that was filled with the trees that squirrels love.
I was out this past Monday morning, opening day, at the crack of dawn. In order to get into a back area away from bow hunters, I used my boat and not just my legs. Motoring out in the fog, I looked up and was surprised by a streaking group of 15 ringnecks. I wanted to ask them, “What are you doing down here already?”
I tied up my boat about five feet from shore so that the waves of passing boats would not throw it up on shore. After loading my newly acquired and sighted, Marlin 60, I let the woods take me in. It had rained the previous night. It was cool, wet and quiet. The woods were everything I remembered from my youth. I feel sorry for the boy and the man who does not know the feeling of being surrounded by something greater than himself. The woods and marsh, though quite different, have that in common: the sense of being surrounded by something greater than yourself.
I can be pretty intense when I get to hunting. This day, I let myself relax. I looked around not just for game, but at the setting. There is something stable and rooted and comforting by the presence of 60-75’ oaks and hickories. From my world viewpoint, it is pretty cool to think of God as someone who would be interested in making hickories and oaks and mornings like that one. In such company there is peace and renewal and satisfaction and gratitude.
Squirrels. There were many squirrels. There were no other hunters. The Marlin model 60 may be as old as the trees of my morning. But that is one straight shooting gun. As the pic bears testimony.
Larry
PS: I know that squirrel meat has the reputation of being tough. I found that while there is an outer membrane (correct term?) that is somewhat tough, inside that outer skin the meat is as tender as you might wish it to be. Grilled to 135 degrees. Mmm good!
