Muzzleloader, 2024

For the most part, Muzzleloader 2024 went according to plan. Over the past 2 decades, it has become apparent that there are few deer contacts that weekend. For whatever reason, the deer are mostly absent. For us, the third weekend in October has become a dry run. We all turn out for camp, but our expectations are low. It’s just nice to have a good weekend of hunting without cold weather and work out any bugs in the system.

Moose brought his 44 Cal revolver and tried his luck at Lazy Boy

Angus wrote about his experience Saturday Evening:

Prepared for a full evening of not-hunting, I fell asleep in the blind. I woke up crumpled up in the stand with my glasses bent. My watch informed me that an hour had passed. As I looked up, I saw the silhouette of two deer at the furthest point in the field to the east. I readied my hawken and started trading texts with John. Three more walked out; all bucks. In order of appearance, an 8 pointer, a 6 pointer, a 4 pointer, and two scoring high on the dink scale.

The two dinks followed a line of cedar trees, down by rock the piles. Meanwhile, the other three started meandering towards me. Those three got within about 60 yards of the stand. I waited to see if they’d come closer, but the 8 pointer bladed away and started walking back to the point that they all spawned out of. I hit the grunt call and felled the hammer.

They were all as confused as I was after the primer went off. For a time, we just stared awkwardly at one another. After a minute or so, I pulled up my possibles bag and rooted around for the tin of caps. My watch metered my heart rate at 140 bpm. The caps jingled around the tin as I attempted to extract one, opting to just pour some out in my hand instead. I almost dumped the caps into the bushes beneath my feet as I assembled the tin back together.

I waited for the prospect of food to outweigh the desire for answers in the minds of the audience before me. I didn’t have to wait long. I pulled back the hammer to find the cap stuck in the lock, and produced a knife to remedy the problem.

New cap on, hammer to full-cock, pull the set trigger. Aim. Pop.

I repeated this process once more with wrapt attention from the buck I was attempting to take, with two more likewise interested. Upon the third unsuccessful stroke of the hammer, the joke wore thin. The deer developed a sudden sense of urgency about the situation, taking flight to the cover in Glenway’s woods.

Out of a curiosity, spite, and a dwindling sense of hilarity, I loaded one more cap and busted it at the dirt. The ground remained thoroughly unharmed. After a call back to camp, a large truck came rolling down the hill to spirit me away, where I relayed the events to the rest of the crew.

When it comes to side-locks, the admonition to “keep your powder dry” isn’t the only key to success.

Moose had come in early and was sitting on the front porch, able to watch it all unfold. The bulldozer had cleared the perfect hole in the trees for watching Blackberry stand and the drama as it happened. When the Popping ceased, he road out in the truck and picked up Angus before coming for me at Midway.