The stand you have in your dreams.
Setup at the head of a short, shallow, narrow draw down into a thick tall sage flat with flowing water in the bottom.
Thirty seconds into my jackrabbit mixtape, group yip howl not 300 yards away. Down in the flat, to my front and right. The thin finger ridge to my right, running down into the draw bottom 125 yards away. They're out of my sight only because of that thin, grass topped, sage sided, ridge.
Less than a minute later I see a coyote coming over the bottom end of that ridge. Just a few yards up from where it merged into the sage flat. Just saw head and shoulders bouncing through the grass on top of the ridge - which was only 10 feet tall that close to the bottom. Coyote immediately disappeared, dropping into the shallow ditch at the bottom of the steep but short hillside. But before that coyote completely disappeared, another one right behind it. Then another, another, another. By the time the last of the five disappeared, the first and second were already emerging into the mixed bunch grass, sage and soapweed at the bottom of the draw.
I'm on my Model Seven .17 Predator.
As all five spread out into a ragged skirmish line running up the draw to the caller, I start barking, howling, whooping, hollering, trying to get them to stop. Not happening. They never looked my way or slowed down. When the lead, biggest coyote finally put on the brakes to turn around and leave right at the caller, I dumped him at 15 yards. At that point, the farthest coyote was about 35 yards. I only got one more of them, when it stopped to look back at the bottom of the draw 125 yards away.
In my Jeep, was my Benelli M2 with 8 TSS shells in the magazine. I cursed softly to myself after killing two coyotes on a stand. I have imagined that stand with my Benelli in my lap, over, and over, and over ever since.
- DAA
Setup at the head of a short, shallow, narrow draw down into a thick tall sage flat with flowing water in the bottom.
Thirty seconds into my jackrabbit mixtape, group yip howl not 300 yards away. Down in the flat, to my front and right. The thin finger ridge to my right, running down into the draw bottom 125 yards away. They're out of my sight only because of that thin, grass topped, sage sided, ridge.
Less than a minute later I see a coyote coming over the bottom end of that ridge. Just a few yards up from where it merged into the sage flat. Just saw head and shoulders bouncing through the grass on top of the ridge - which was only 10 feet tall that close to the bottom. Coyote immediately disappeared, dropping into the shallow ditch at the bottom of the steep but short hillside. But before that coyote completely disappeared, another one right behind it. Then another, another, another. By the time the last of the five disappeared, the first and second were already emerging into the mixed bunch grass, sage and soapweed at the bottom of the draw.
I'm on my Model Seven .17 Predator.
As all five spread out into a ragged skirmish line running up the draw to the caller, I start barking, howling, whooping, hollering, trying to get them to stop. Not happening. They never looked my way or slowed down. When the lead, biggest coyote finally put on the brakes to turn around and leave right at the caller, I dumped him at 15 yards. At that point, the farthest coyote was about 35 yards. I only got one more of them, when it stopped to look back at the bottom of the draw 125 yards away.
In my Jeep, was my Benelli M2 with 8 TSS shells in the magazine. I cursed softly to myself after killing two coyotes on a stand. I have imagined that stand with my Benelli in my lap, over, and over, and over ever since.
- DAA
