We should all learn from our mistakes
It has been said that we learn from our mistakes. That should make me the smartest person in the world.
Along that same path, I remember the people that influenced my early hunting trips and more than one of many hunting mistakes.
When I was in my 20s, I hunted quite a bit with a transplanted fellow from Tennessee. Gene Harmon came north to find work and ended up in Washington County because his brother was working for Guthrie Trucking in Peters Township.
Since Gene was distantly related to my wife, Eileen, and was a hand-loading and shooting fanatic, it was only natural that I gravitated to his company. To put it mildly, those groundhog-hunting years with Gene probably proved that Eileen and I had a marriage that would withstand anything thrown our way.
Gene used to say that varmint hunting was like eating potato chips. You don’t stop eating or shooting until you are out of chips or out of ammo. Poor wives. Many a family cookout or picnic came and went with only the wives attending. Gene and George were somewhere in a field shooting hogs.
While I learned a lot in those days, I have some regret over my neglect of the poor dear lady. She cut grass and painted while I hunted. Sounds like a Native American arrangement.
But as I said, I learned. I became aware of the need for good optics both, mounted on the rifle or held in the hands. A groundhog might be easily spotted when the alfalfa is inches high but place that same animal in nine inches of clover and it can be hard to spot. Cheap binoculars can send the hunter home with a nagging headache.
While a deer hunter can get away with a rifle and load that only shoots 1 ½-inch groups, not so for the varmint hunter. Take that 1 ½-inch 100-yard group and multiply it by four and you have a 6-inch group. And then there is the wind.
Take into account the wind, which increases the horizontal spread as the distances lengthen. That 6-inch group can easily account for a miss, even if the shooter does everything right. The point is that, when varmint hunting, it helps to own a super-accurate rifle-scope combo.
I was young and red of hair when I bought my first .222, a Savage model 340. On top of it I mounted an 8-power Weaver scope and loaded ammo for it using and old Lyman Tru-line Jr. press.
I couldn’t afford better but with that outfit I learned to shoot groundhogs out to 200 yards. Soon the Savage was replaced by the first Sako I ever saw. In fact, when Paul Wolf, who worked at the National Store in Washington, showed it to me, I said I didn’t want a Japaneese rifle only to find my mistake.
It was imported from Finland. This was one of the best rifles I have ever owned and sorely regret parting with it. But I found while it was a much nicer rifle, my range was still almost the same distance, so off it went in a trade for another Sako in .243. It was about that time I started hunting with Gene.
His rifle also was a .243 but was a model 70 Winchester. On it he had a Bushnell Scope Chief in 10 power.
Those were great summer days. We quickly learned of the importance of a longer barrel on the rifle. Despite what is printed, the speed of the bullet is higher when the barrel is longer.
Actually, I prefer a 26-inch barrel on my groundhog rig. It is better to gain velocity by utilizing a longer barrel than it is adding more powder.
I have never heard of a gun blowing up because of a barrel that is too long, but can’t say the same about adding too much gun powder.
Recoil is another overlooked negative when hunting groundhogs. While unimportant when big game hunting, it is varmint hunting that offers many shots and recoil can be cumulative.
Another problem with a hard-kicking rifle is that thin clothing is worn in the summer when groundhog hunting. That makes recoil seem harder.
Many shots are offered at odd angles such as uphill or down. This is but an opinion, and I do admit to being wrong now and then, but groundhog cartridges shouldn’t be bigger than 25-06.
But if all you own is a super-duper long-range magnum and you want to use it on those 10-pound diggers, be my guest. After all, like me, we all learn from our mistakes and that makes us smarter.
George H. Block writes a Sunday Outdoors column for the Observer-Reporter.