brownbear932008
Well-known member
I always enjoy the first fall mornings in the squirrel woods each year. It's the first time I'm in the woods usually and it always bring back the best memories. Memories of sitting under ancient hickory trees on the family farm I walked miles on as a young boy caring airguns, 22 rifles, and the ole trusty single shot Stevens 410 shotgun. Many squirrels fell to them all.
As always this morning I headed to "The Ridge". The Ridge is our property line that runs along the West end of the farm. It's fence line is covered with different types of hickory, black walnut, and assorted oak trees. Some of these have been there since my grandpa bought the place many decades ago. Beautiful huge shag bark hickory and white oaks. I've probably taken hundreds of squirrels off this ridge.
This morning it was hot for the first week of October. I took my first stand under some large white oaks thinking the hickory nuts were probably almost gone. I see limbs shake way in the top of the tree. I move to a good shooting position under the tree and spot a fox squirrel making his way down a large limb stopping to eat. I can see his head between a fork in two limbs. At the crack he hits high gear and disappears in the huge forks. He stays hidden and I move on. I see a gray moving away from me and I ease that direction. I finally find him and a partner in a red oak chowing down. The first one stops to chatter at me and that was his final mistake. The other hides in the tree top for ten minutes before coming back for more breakfast. That was also his final mistake. Two in the bag.
I head back through the white oaks still no sign of the fox squirrel. I must have really scared him. They are getting hard to come by now. As a kid my take was about 50/50. Now I'm lucky to see one on my few trips a year. Makes me sad in a way. I'm not sure if it's the change in the habitat or what. The woods seem to be thicker now with undergrowth.
I continue out the ridge to the far end. I stop near a huge fallen white oak that served as a huge squirrel den many years ago. The tree had been struck by lighting at some point in it's life and it made the perfect den tree. I shot so many squirrels off its trunk. It's now just logs on the ground.
I sit and reminisce about all those good times sitting under this tree with my grandpa. I then notice limbs shaking in a black walnut under the hill. I spot a gray working on walnuts. The Weatherby barks four times as the gray runs down the trunk. Not impressed with my shooting this morning I move on.
I get to an area with numerous pignut hickory, usually it's not a great place but I've shot bushy tails enough there to check it out. I guess since the preferred breakfast is cutt out the squirrels have decided to work them. I see a gray moving away running through the red cedars he had already spotted me. I take a stand under a large red cedar he or another gray makes his way back toward the hickory trees after 15 minutes and crumbles at the crack of the 22. In a few minutes another gray comes from the same general direction. I follow him all around the trees with my scope trying to get a shot. Sometimes as close as 10 yards. He is an active sucker and keeps trucking back to the security of the red cedars under the hill. I decide three for the pot is good enough as it's almost 10am and getting hot quickly.
I head to the house to do the dirty work. My uncle was very happy he was going to enjoy some squirrel gravy. He is 85 now and can't chase them like he use to. He had made it to "The Ridge" once in September without seeing a squirrel. I drive home again feeling blessed to enjoy a fall morning in the hickory trees doing what I truly love to do most in the Blue Ridges of Virginia.
As always this morning I headed to "The Ridge". The Ridge is our property line that runs along the West end of the farm. It's fence line is covered with different types of hickory, black walnut, and assorted oak trees. Some of these have been there since my grandpa bought the place many decades ago. Beautiful huge shag bark hickory and white oaks. I've probably taken hundreds of squirrels off this ridge.
This morning it was hot for the first week of October. I took my first stand under some large white oaks thinking the hickory nuts were probably almost gone. I see limbs shake way in the top of the tree. I move to a good shooting position under the tree and spot a fox squirrel making his way down a large limb stopping to eat. I can see his head between a fork in two limbs. At the crack he hits high gear and disappears in the huge forks. He stays hidden and I move on. I see a gray moving away from me and I ease that direction. I finally find him and a partner in a red oak chowing down. The first one stops to chatter at me and that was his final mistake. The other hides in the tree top for ten minutes before coming back for more breakfast. That was also his final mistake. Two in the bag.
I head back through the white oaks still no sign of the fox squirrel. I must have really scared him. They are getting hard to come by now. As a kid my take was about 50/50. Now I'm lucky to see one on my few trips a year. Makes me sad in a way. I'm not sure if it's the change in the habitat or what. The woods seem to be thicker now with undergrowth.
I continue out the ridge to the far end. I stop near a huge fallen white oak that served as a huge squirrel den many years ago. The tree had been struck by lighting at some point in it's life and it made the perfect den tree. I shot so many squirrels off its trunk. It's now just logs on the ground.
I sit and reminisce about all those good times sitting under this tree with my grandpa. I then notice limbs shaking in a black walnut under the hill. I spot a gray working on walnuts. The Weatherby barks four times as the gray runs down the trunk. Not impressed with my shooting this morning I move on.
I get to an area with numerous pignut hickory, usually it's not a great place but I've shot bushy tails enough there to check it out. I guess since the preferred breakfast is cutt out the squirrels have decided to work them. I see a gray moving away running through the red cedars he had already spotted me. I take a stand under a large red cedar he or another gray makes his way back toward the hickory trees after 15 minutes and crumbles at the crack of the 22. In a few minutes another gray comes from the same general direction. I follow him all around the trees with my scope trying to get a shot. Sometimes as close as 10 yards. He is an active sucker and keeps trucking back to the security of the red cedars under the hill. I decide three for the pot is good enough as it's almost 10am and getting hot quickly.
I head to the house to do the dirty work. My uncle was very happy he was going to enjoy some squirrel gravy. He is 85 now and can't chase them like he use to. He had made it to "The Ridge" once in September without seeing a squirrel. I drive home again feeling blessed to enjoy a fall morning in the hickory trees doing what I truly love to do most in the Blue Ridges of Virginia.
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