Finally got some fur on my creedmoor

wildcats137

New member
So, Sunday morning a buddy of mine invited me to go hunt his family farm, which happens to be one of the 2 or 3 largest hog farms in the state. I immediately accepted because I have heard tales of hoards of complacent coyotes, that just do not run from people. I was somewhat skeptical of the stories that I had heard, but I can tell you now I'm sure they were true. These coyotes have become exceptionally fat and complacent, eating dead hogs that they throw in a pit no more than 300 yards away from the hog shed.

We pulled up to the farm at 7:15 am and walked the 200 or so yards to an area over looking the pit. There we stopped and had a little pow-wow, the result of which is my heading another 30 yards or so down to the pit to place my foxpro. Before I go more than 20 yards my buddy whistles at me. I look up and 100 or so yards away, in some double crop are two coyotes calmly watching me. I slowly drop my predator call and take a knee. I shoulder my rifle, but the hot air from my breath immediately fogs my glasses. I lower my rifle, allow the fog to recede and then again I shoulder my rifle, only to have my glasses fog. Twice more this happens, as the coyotes calmly look on. Frustrated, I signal my buddy to take the shot, but he shakes his head and points back at me. Not wanting to waste more time arguing, I agree, shoulder my rifle, and rush off a shot before my glasses can fog too severely.

I miss, let out a curse somewhere north of quiet, resolve to wear contacts on the next early morning hunt, and trudge back up to where my buddy is standing. He asks what happened and I inform him of my glasses fogging. Then he says I should go ahead and set up my foxpro because he's sure they'll be back. I skeptically walked back to the pit, turn on the foxpro and head back to the bit of cover my buddy is crouching behind. I decide to play a pup distress call, figuring that makes the most sense after the gunshot. The call doesn't play more than 20 seconds because a coyote sings out, just behind the terrace 150 yards away that the coyote I missed disappeared over. Not long after that, a second distinct call comes from behind the same terrace, only a little further to the south. About 90 seconds in, I decide to mute the foxpro, so that they can't zero in on it. A minute later the two yotes appear, having already come over the terrace without us seeing them, and are heading south towards the call. Still having trouble with my glasses, I tell my buddy to take a shot if he has one. Shortly after I hear the crack of his rifle and see the thump of a yote hitting the ground 75 yards away.

Elated, we decide to go check out his hand work. His shot was almost perfect, entering in a spot that likely hit the back half of the heart and both lungs.

Inspired by the lack of common sense these coyotes seem to display, we decide to circle around the back half of the section and see if we can't catch any of them sneaking down the back side of the hill, and towards their dens. We do, or rather, Riley does. I almost didn't see the yote, 150 yards out and coming back down the hill just like Riley thought he would. Travelling mostly across the slope, rather than down it the yote trots about 20 yards before stopping. *Crack*, Riley, standing so as to peer just over the top of some trees down in a gulley, hits the yote, where I know not, because he did one tumble before taking off like a bat out of the bad place. We never do find this one, which is upsetting not only because Riley can't check out his handiwork, but especially because that poor yote is most likely going to die a rather painful death.

Seeing as Riley is now down to one shell, and it's almost 9 am, we decide to head back to my truck, pick up the pistol that was left at our first stand, and head back to the house. Only, after we pick up the pistol, and are just now rolling away from the stand, Riley asks if that's one north of us. Wanting to find out, I grab my creedmoor and peer through the scope at the speck Riley pointed out.

A coyote it is indeed. 150 yards out, sitting as canines do, and watching us without a care in the world. So I hop into the bed of my pickup sit down, and use the side of my pickup for a rest. I line him up only to notice that either my hands are shaking like an SOB, or my pickup is vibrating. Deciding it's the latter, I whisper over to Riley to turn my truck off. That did the trick. Now, all I need for the yote to do is give me a nice broadside shot. Except, that, after about 2 minutes of him just sitting there, I realize that he's in no hurry to do so, and is just as likely to turn around and trot away. I then decided it was best to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

*Crack*, the yote does a kind of weird pretzel as he falls straight down from his sitting position. He hits the ground, without a kick, yip, or roll. The very definition of DRT. My shot took him in the chest, maybe an inch right of center. I won't profess to being an expert on coyote anatomy, but the way he went down, I'm guessing I destroyed the heart and shredded the right lung from front to back.

All in all, not a bad way to finally get some fur on my Ruger V/T in 6.5 creed. Although I must profess that I'm upset with myself for not wearing contacts and getting that one I missed.

Photobucket seems to be down right now. I'll post pics when it's back up.

Please forgive any spelling or grammatical errors, I've had a long day at work and don't care to proof read this whole thing.
 
Congrats. Awesome to get your first and it feeds the need for more. I was thinking back to last year trying to remember how many coyotes we actually shot compared to number of stands, and it's amazing how long you'll keep going to experience it all over again.
 
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