A Century Old Fun…

 

Walther Sportmodell ”Meisterbüchse”

Being a certified Gun Nut, which I am not sure that it is any better than being a “nut job”, I am in a constant and endless quest for the ultimate, if not perfect, toy. That such toy should be a classic walnut and blued steel rifle goes without saying, and it should be equally at home both indoor and outdoors. As for the caliber what else could it be but the most ubiquitous cartridge in history, der König der Kleinkaliberpatronen (the King of small bore cartridges), the beloved 22 Long Rifle.

Due to only being semi-retired, being involved with greater or lesser degree in multiple businesses across the estate and the unforecastable Michigan weather, my most reliably available range is my basement, where I am generally limited to airguns, and while I have many lovely, high quality and very precise air rifles, their intrinsic behavior is quite different from firearms.

During my last visit to sister company Randy’s Hunting Center in Bad Axe, Michigan, I saw an attractive single shot bolt-action 22 LR rifle featuring a 25 inch heavy barrel and a beautiful walnut stock. Upon closer examination it proved to be a Waffenfabrik Walther Zella-Mehlis Thuringen (Sportmodell) .22, also known as Meisterbüchse or Master’s Rifle.

Walther was one of a dozen or more German firearms manufacturers that produced small bore training rifles in the inter-war years (roughly 1920 to 1940) designed to have similar dimensions, weight and ergonomics to Karabiner 98k, in this way allowing Germany to train a large number of people in marksmanship using inexpensive 22 LR ammunition, but without violating the restrictions imposed by the Treaty of Versailles.

Although I had previous access to different Kleinkaliberbüchse (small caliber rifle) of the period, what set the Walther Meisterbüchse apart, especially for my aging eyes, was the possibility of mounting a scope, using the 11 millimeter rail, that is machined not only over the receiver, but also over a long portion of the barrel. I mounted an UTG 3-12x40 intended for airguns that I had available, but may eventually replace it by something more aesthetically matched to this century old piece of history.

Considering the construction and limitations of my range I needed to use the least powerful ammunition possible and my starting point as the Aguilla Super Colibri that shoots a 20 grains bullet at 590 feet per second. The Super Colibri has always been a staple of my basement shooting, being very quiet, precise and less powerful than many of my air rifles, however, due to the long and “tight” match grade barrel of the Walther it just didn’t have enough energy to leave the barrel.

But a true Gun Nut never despairs. We just look for a solution among all the all the twenty-two ammo we have scavenged over the years. First I tried an old box of Winchester 22 CB Short, which shoots a 29 grains bullet at 710 feet per second, which translated into nice groups at my 10 meter (33 feet) range, zero recoil and basically zero noise, except for the sound of the bullet hitting the target. This combination was a winner, except that I had only one 250 count box, and I knew that it wouldn’t last long.

Next I tried CCI 22 CB Long which has exactly the same ballistics as the Winchester 22 CB Short discussed above while being slightly more precise in my rifle. As I have access to several thousand rounds of the CCI ammo I can practice with the Meisterbüchse without being afraid of running dry.

Searching online I found that the Walther Sportmodell Meisterbüchse retailed for RM 85 sometime in the 1930’s and eighty-five Reichsmark (the Nazi Germany currency that went out of circulation in 1948) would be roughly equivalent to USD 830 today.

Considering that these rifles are available online starting at $1,000-1,500, it doesn’t appear that a century depreciated any of the value of these fine firearms.

You should look for your own ultimate toy. As for me, I will look for a not too hot summer day when I can take this master’s rifle in the woods along with my grandson and hunt some T-Rexes and Triceratops, and when fall comes squirrelsaurus and rabbitatops could be on the menu!

 

Keeping Up With The New Times!

 

“In our rather stupid time, hunting is belittled and misunderstood, many refusing to see it for the vital vacation from the human condition that it is, or to acknowledge that the hunter does not hunt in order to kill; on the contrary, he kills in order to have hunted.”

Jose Ortega y Gasset – Meditations on Hunting

 

As a hunter I am a traditionalist at heart. I like to keep things simple while I enjoy time with and within nature, away from the tribulation of “our rather stupid time.” But, if hunt is to continue to be a relevant activity, from ecological, economic, cultural or societal standpoints, then we must continue to recruit new hunters, from all diverse segments of society, and that means that even troglodytes like me must accept certain new-fangled things intruding in our hunting experience.

One of the greatest pleasures that I have is to spend time afield with my grandson Sylas, be it in a deer blind or walking after Hawk while he is using his nose to locate woodcock, grouse or pheasants. But sitting in a blind with a ten-year-old boy presents certain challenges, especially if deer take longer than five minutes to show themselves. For as much as I hate to admit, the solution for quite some time has been to allow him to watch videos or play games using a smart phone or tablet. I know that this may offend certain purists, even more traditionalist than me, after all I mostly use a centerfire rifle for deer and not a long bow, but I would rather have my son hunting with me, even if on occasion he is looking at a phone screen, than not having him hunting with me.

But the unavoidable presence of the smart phone in the blind let me to consider that that new-fangled thing might have more practical uses than just keeping children entertained, to the point that I had a slide about the use of smart phone in the field during the last Hunter Education class that I taught.

So, how could a smart phone be used while hunting:

·       Safety: if coverage is available, you could use your phone to contact family, friends or first responders in case of an emergency. Even without coverage, you could pinpoint the geocoordinates of your hunt blind or tree-stand and share with your loved ones before going hunting so it would be easy to locate you if you get delayed by weather or an accident. Talking about weather, the phone can be used both to check weather forecasts and receive alerts about inclement weather.

Other useful features are compass and GPS (satellite based), navigation apps and a flashlight. Believe it or not, but in a late season archery hunt in Illinois the three flashlights that I had all went dead (maybe due to the very cold weather), and in the end of the day (or beginning of the night!) my phone provided the only light for me to walk out safely.

·       Compliance: Following applicable laws and regulations is as important as proper ethical behavior afield. Of course, the specifics will depend on where you may be hunting, but here in Michigan you can use a smart phone to first download the DNR app, and then you can review regulations specific for you target game and season up to checking legal shooting hours for each day of the season! You can also complete the mandatory Harvest Report for deer even before you drag your quarry out of the woods, and using GPS or any number of apps the hunter can verify that he is outside of the 450 feet safety zone from any dwellings.

·       Entertainment: While my grandson prefers to watch videos or play games, I have a reasonably large and eclectic library on my phone, ranging from classic hunting books to science fiction to literary classics to comedy. I have a friend that likes either music or audio books and my son would probably listen to podcasts. I rather keep my hearing unobstructed and try to listen to any disturbances to the fall leaves that blanket the ground or to the wild music the Canada geese play when flying overhead.

·       Record your experiences: The camera capabilities of most modern smart phones, either for still pictures or movies, are outstanding, and as we move away from the precious written word to the world of multimedia, a lot of people nowadays focus on that. Reactionaries like me take notes and later try to write a blog (similar to this) to relate their experiences. Many anthropologists correlate the development of human language and the need of hunters to communicate, teach young hunters and especially to tell stories and tales about their past experiences. The modern hunter, whether young or old, can also use his story telling abilities, written or pictographic, to recruit new hunters and help perpetuate our unique way of life.

I bet that the younger generation that is much more versed on the use of smart phones than me will be able to come with a myriad of other potential uses for their handheld devices, but we should be smart enough to use modern gadgets to help us recruit, retain and reactivate hunters and have more people enjoying the great outdoors.

 

Syncerus Caffer Caffer

This week I received back from taxidermy the European mount for the Cape Buffalo that I shot in South Africa in August 2022. I included the rifle in the photo for scale. The little Mauser is 45" long, and the horns measured 45-6/8" on the outside spread. These massive horns are a testimony to the power and beauty of the Cape Buffalo and will help me remember that hunt as long as I live

You can watch the hunt for this buffalo at the Hampel's Gun Co. YouTube channel and come to our shop to see it by yourself.

Casual Encounteurs

 

Loop Lake Road - Algoma National Forest

Between 2010 and 2019, and prior to its untimely demise due to Covid and related issues, I went bear hunting at Halfway Haven five times and learned to admire, enjoy and love the dark and almost impenetrable pine forests, placid lakes, logging roads in a constant state of disrepair, and the abundant wildlife and fisheries.

I caught walleye and pike, shot ruffled and spruce grouse for the camp pot, and had my fair share of success with black bears, not only for the trophies but also for their fantastic meat. But some of the most cherished memories come from casual encounters.

In 2019 I took some friends from Brazil hunting and they wanted to go after both the ever present black bears as well as timber wolves that moved in the area following the mighty moose and seriously impacting bear hunting, but that is a different story.

Since my friends refused to drive for fear of getting lost (in the single road that was led to camp) I had to drop them at their assigned baits and pick them up at night. I also had to babysit them to make sure that they had their gear going in and coming out.

A certain night when I came to pick up Alceu, who was sitting for wolf, I noticed that he had left his electronic game call behind. As I had no idea of the plans for the following day I just told him to load up his gear and wait for me in the truck and took the narrow trail to retried the equipment. It was pitch black dark, except for the bright northern stars, and I relied only on my headlight. The moment I touched the call that was hanging from a tree three wolves started howling around me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I was uncertain how a can of bear spray would perform against the apex predators of the north woods. That is one of the most primeval feelings I ever felt.

Not wanting to find out how many other puppies were around I made a tactical retreat to the safe and comfort of my truck!

In the previous year, I spent two weeks, instead of the normal seven days, at camp. More time to do what I like best: not much at all! Since I am constantly reminded that God doesn’t count days spent hunting, fishing or exploring wild places against our allotment, I guess that I don’t do much at all. Anyhow…

On the day before we were supposed to drive home, and having fished and hunted to my heart’s content, I took an afternoon to visit Steve and Gale at their beautiful trapper’s cabin out of Much Lake Road. Jeff, our guide turned friend, asked me to stop at a couple baits on the way back in order to get his game cameras, saving him time the following day.

Towards late afternoon I bid goodbye to the nice couple and went on my mission. At the first stop I had a long walk on a soft sandy road, crisscrossed by wolf tracks, and carried a 257 Weatherby just in case. Except for ravens and crows, and maybe a bald eagle I saw nothing.

At the second stop, my walk would be much shorter but almost entirely in the timber. Being a bit tired and wanting to make a fast retrieval I took nothing. As I made the last bend of the trail before the bait barrel I came face to face to a beautiful black bear, that probably was just as surprised as I was.

We both froze and the story takes two paths! The boring one is that I started backing up until we couldn’t see each other, went back to the truck, got a gun and came back to find nothing and picked up the camera and went back to the lodge. The other path is to give a bit more detail to our casual encounter!

When the bear and I came face to face we carefully examined each other. Could we have met before? And then we apparently came to the same conclusion! Both of us being proper gentlemen, and not having being properly introduced, we decided not to engage in any conversation. Such is the burden of civilization.

Some Hunting & Shooting Quotes

Besides hunting and reading, I also enjoy watching classic movies, and once in a while I come across a dialogue or phrase that is relevant to both hunting and shooting. Here you will find four of those instances, and if you haven't watched these movies they are great entertainment.

"What is important?

To hit the target.

When?

The first shot.

Why?

Because I might not get another."

Dialogue between Matt Calder (played by the laconic Robert Mitchum) and his son Mark Tommy Rettig) in the motion picture River of No Return (1954), just before they save Kay Weston (Marilyn Monroe) and her no good boyfriend Harry Weston (Rory Calhoun) from the rapids.

What do you think was in my mind when my family and I rafted down the Middle Fork of the Salmon River, a.k.a. River of No Return, last year? We didn't find their homestead, but stopped at Buckskin Bill's! But that is another story.

"Oh, Harry, have you done any hunting lately?

No, why do you ask?

Too bad. A man should never lose his hand at hunting."

Dialogue between Uncle Bill (Leo G. Carroll) and Harry Street (Gregory Peck) in the motion picture The Snows of Kilimanjaro (1952), based on Ernest Hemingway's short story.

"Bring up your gun, put your finger on the trigger, and take a deep breath to steady your nerves..."

Just about every character say this to our beloved hero Reuben Soady (Jeff Daniels) in the classic Michigan's Upper Peninsula deer hunting movie Escanaba in da Moonlight (2001).

There are some many great one-liners in this movie that if probable deserves a post exclusively for them.

"I'll never forget the first deer that I shot."

Brigadier General Nicholas Herkimer (Roger Inhof) on being told that his leg must be amputated when he bleeds to death during the surgery in Drums Along the Mohawk (1939).

The Perfect Hunt

 “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it." - Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Sylas and his parents (my daughter and her husband) got to “The (Soon To Be) World Famous Meirelles Deer Camp” Thanksgiving night after I had shot my buck. On Black  Friday morning the ladies went to town while the gentlemen had more pressing priorities, specially sighting in or getting used to rifles, in Sylas case a brand new Ruger American chambered in 350 Legend.

For some reason Sylas was very afraid of the potential recoil from his new rifle and it was a battle, involving tears and whining and other unpleasantries, to have him shoot the very mildly recoiling gun a couple times in order to get ready for the afternoon hunt.

Food and time riding my ATV erased any bad feelings from the morning target shooting session and by 3:30 PM we were leaving the more than comfortable club house with a lot of hunter-orange to provide both legal compliance and an extra measure of safety, even if we were hunting private property from an enclosed elevated blind.

Either by design or accident there is a concealed parking spot just yards from the blind and transporting the gear upstairs was no chore at all. Once we were properly and comfortably installed I loaded Sylas’s rifle and placed it securely against a corner and got my most indispensable piece of gear: a pair of binoculars. I will not even touch my rifle before I have identified a potential target through binoculars and assure that a shot would be safe.

But I digress, this story is about Sylas. No more than a handful of minutes after we arrived, a pair of very young deer, probably buck fawns came out from the wood line just west of us and started browsing the late fall vegetation and Sylas asked if he could shoot one of them. My answer was that he could shoot either of them, but should he? They were very young and small deer that would result in very little, but delicious, venison. Was one of those young deer the trophy he was looking for? Besides, while some people use artificial decoys to attract deer, we could just wait and let those fawns be our live decoys. Their presence would provide confidence for other animals that could potentially come into the clearing.

Nothing reinforces a lesson as well as real life practice. I had barely ended my lecture when I saw a brown shape moving rapidly inside the wood line about a hundred yards away. I told Sylas to pay attention as an animal much larger than the ones in front of us was just inside the woods, although I couldn’t tell wether it was a buck or a doe.

Things started to pick up pace as a buck emerged from the woods and slowly walked straight to the blind! I passed the binoculars to Sylas so he could evaluate the buck and the inevitable question came: “Can I shoot him?”

“Of course you can, but he is a bit far away and facing us. Why don’t you wait a little for him to get closer and turn broadside.” 

From that point on it was like if the buck was being remotely controlled. At 54 yards the buck stopped and turned left, showing his right side to us. At this point I handled Sylas his rifle and he rested it on the window rail. The Leupold VX-R was already turned on and the little red dot provided an accurate reference for the young hunter. “Fufu I can’t take the shot. There is brush in front of the deer and at Hunter Safety they said that it is not safe to shoot an animal behind vegetation.”

I asked him to wait until the buck took a step forward and to make sure to aim at a spot directly up from the front leg and about the middle of the shoulder. Again, like by remote control the buck took that important step forward.

After the shot rang and the buck bolted towards the woods Sylas was positive. “I know I hit! The tail went down and he crunched downwards. Only deer that are hit react like that.” Not a bad observation for a ten year old boy.

During the next several minutes we put away our gear, I took off my bibs and heavier coat and got ready for the tracking job. After making sure that the rifle was ready but safe we climbed down and walked towards the spot the buck stood when shot and put nose to the grind stone looking for that magical first drop of blood eventually spotted by the young hunter himself.

Before moving forward we talked about how, if we lost the trail, coming back to first blood was important and that he should mark it, which he did using his red ear muffs. We slowly charged ahead, found more blood and came to inevitable split of the trail. Did the buck kept going west or turned southwards? We discussed the possibilities and found that ferns on the south side looked disturbed like by a running animal.

At this point I told Sylas that we would maybe look for another yard or two and get back to the blind so we wouldn’t risking jumping the wounded buck. It is always safer to let the animal lay down and get weaker than keeping the adrenaline up and trying to escape. But the lesson was almost pointless; as I raised my eyes, fifteen or twenty yards ahead of us was a very dead nine-pointer buck.

I called Trevor who was hunting in the cornfield across the road to help load the buck on the ATV and before taking any pictures made sure that Sylas placed the letzebissen (last bite) in the bucks mouth. This European tradition places a sprig of vegetation, as both a symbol of respect and gratitude, in the animal’s mouth. Immediately afterwards I removed my hat and shaking his hand said “Weidmanssheil” and explained to him that the proper answer is “Weidmannsdank.” 

While hunting is very different than killing, the finality of the kill is what makes hunting real. Taking a life is a very serious action, and in my view the animal should be commemorated with more formality and respect than a high-five. In our rather convoluted times a bit of tradition and propriety goes a long away to make an hour spent in the woods between grandson and grandfather an even more unforgettable experience.

The Haversack

When I was a child a haversack (the name in Portuguese is "embornal") was a very common household possession, especially in the rural environment where I grew up.

 

Everyone of the farm employees had one, almost always white made from discarded and reclaimed flour or sugar cotton sacs and with their initials embroiled by hand, with greater of lesser skill. Every morning around 9:30 the wives or daughters would bring the haversacks with the just cooked lunch and hang them in hooks outside the farm workshop from where they would be taken to the fields.

 

That pretty much defined the standard dimension of the haversacks, since hey had to have enough room for a caldron about six inches in diameter, which contained the inevitable rice and beans filling about three quarters of the volume and some sort of meat, pork or chicken being the most common, since almost every family kept at least one capon and several piglets plus a number of chickens, hens, and at least one nice looking rooster.

 

The lid was kept in place by an elastic band, and together with it would go a former soft drink glass bottle filled with very sweet, and soon to be cold, coffee. Those haversacks had a very practical use, but almost everyone of those men also liked to fish, and some to hunt, even if only to provide some free protein for their families, but none had fishing boxes, all they need would fit in another haversack. And why not, since their wives could make them for almost free?

 

My brothers and I had our lunches in haversacks many times, more out of wanting to be part of the environment than for need, but like most of the other children in the farm we used ours to help us in our adventures.

 

So I started to consider what a haversack should be stuffed with to make us feel like children again!

 

First and foremost it should have a pocket knife of any type imaginable. Of course a Swiss Army knife would be the most desirable and useful knife anyone could carry, but they were too expensive and rare for children, and probably we would have to rely on a single blade friction folder, almost certainly with a sheep's foot blade that was handled down by some salesman, most likely chemicals being used to fight a losing battle win the boll weevils that were destroying our cotton, and that my father to his grave would swear where parachuted in Brazil by the CIA, so the big American companies could sell us their chemicals.

 

Next we must have a slingshot, as no self respecting boy at the time would go out in the bush unarmed. Many dangerous mangos and other less desirable fruits would still be haunting the country if we did not have our slingshots to bring them down from their towering heights. O course we could also try our luck at the multiple doves and pigeons that populated our woods or some careless tinamou that decided to prove Darwin wrong.

 

Marbles would be third in line, for they provided both entertainment during long lazy days and also could use as ammunition for the slingshots in case a trophy of enough importance would present itself for such expensive and high performance ammunition.

 

Following these basic staples we have a long list of absolute must haves, at least in the opinion of a professional small boy like me, and I will present the in no particular order.

 

Fishing hooks, sinkers and line that could all be accommodated inside a match box allowed us to try our hands for the "lambaris" (Astyanax sp.) and "traíras" (Hoplias sp.) among other fish that hid themselves in the dark muddy waters of the Córrego do Rosário that bisected our property, and that would come out in the early evening, about the same time that the annoying mosquitos would wake up to make us company and render us misery. A small glass jar with a screw in top that formerly held medicine or food is always useful to carry earth worms, rotting corn or other bait.

 

It is hard to overstate the importance of twine or cord or even some steel wire. They are essential to make an "arapuca" a very effective trap to catch birds and other small animals.

 

There is no reason not to carry as small container of .177" air gun pellets, even if your father, like mine, did not allow you to have an air gun. You could always come across another kid that had one, but had no pellets, and the priceless gift of half a dozen pellets of so would surely grant you access to that coveted gun. But I can't complain about my father for as much as he was afraid of air guns, he would allow me to carry a small bore shotgun, so in my haversack I always had a small handful of .310" rimfire shotshell made by CBC. The older version had glass over shot wads that let us see the No. 11 shot while the newer ammunition was crimped.

 

Matches or a Bic lighter are critical to start our fires so we can cook our fish or the rare birds we hunted with our mortal slingshots. The frying pans were made from discarded cooking oil cans and were generally good for a single meal. More cans could be found when necessary. Of course the pocket knife was used to make the fry pan and then become the cooking utensil.

 

The haversack should also carry a small and inexpensive flashlight. Nowadays we have reliable and bright LED hand torches that cost next to nothing, but to us professional small boys (and I freely steel once more the expression from Peter Hathaway Capstik) nothing is better than and old and barely functional flashlight, with worn out batteries that barely light the old bulb, and that before the night is over will have to be boiled or frozen to give us a couple more lumens that reflected from the eyes of a timid alligator someplace in the lagoon.

Being the nerd that I always was my haversack was also home o a magnifying glass, mostly used to burn black holes in mango leaves, and a small notebook and pencil, that of course was sharpened by the inseparable pocket knife.

 

A whistle is very useful if you are lost, or even if you just like to annoy people and disturb their early afternoon nap, and any child will soon find out how ease it is to lose it when overused or misused.

 

A very important item is a magnetic compass, especially if it is inexpensive and not too reliable, as it provides us a good reason to get lost for as long as we desire.

 

A good haversack can carry many other essentials, but it cannot transport or contain the most essential and necessary "items" for us, professional small boys, adventure spirit and imagination.

 

Just get away from this computer screen and go explore your own backyard! You will discover a world that you thought was lost.