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Hello all,

I just got back from another good hunting trip in France. It was a full schedual with hunting and visiting friends and familly. I had hoped to visit our local Robin de bois (JB), but unfortunately some of the bad moments of the trip intervened and I did not make it (next time we go East JB!). I finally got to do a long time dream of mine, go stalking red stag on the open hill, no fences, just wild stags. Some driven boar and some rough shooting for woodcock were all on schedule. We first went down to the Pyrenees mountains for three days of red stag stalking. I was all set, 9.3x74r double rifle with some great handloads with Woodleigh bullets, and my French guild gun for woodcock. I got all my winter clothes and good broken in boots for trekking up and down steep hills in the winter. Then my least favorite airlines, Delta, proceeded to loose ALL my luggage, gun case included. I really hate flying Delta, they seem to always have the lowest fares when I travel, but they always do something wrong.

So there we are in the end of December in the Pyrenees Mountains at the height of ski season with no rifle, no long underwear, no hiking boots, no wool pants, no sweaters, etc. I was lucky that I always hand carry my binoculars, a jacket, hat, and shooting gloves with me… So we proceeded to hunt in my street shoes, and in the same pair of pants and same shirt… Well I hoped those stags don’t have too keen a sense of smell… What really saved us was the fact that the winter was so mild and quite warm. If it really had been as cold as it should have been, we would have been miserable. Now the really bad thing was that I was that I had to use the guide’s rifle… A Blaser R93 with a synthetic stock… How could it get worse… Well at least it was in a good caliber, 9.3x62! The safety really sucks on this rifle because it a cocking mechanism like a Krieghoff… More on this later…

The terrain of the hunting area was better than I could have dreamed. Rugged like Alaska with rocky snow covered mountains and tall trees, but with accents of old world charm and quaint local architecture. The mountains were quite steep, with some snow on the ground. Of course Southwestern French cooking is also not to be missed!

However, our blessing of warm weather made the deer very scarce. We hunted hard the first two days with no deer actually seen. My guide was quite distressed, telling me it was not normal.

Always glassing...

Up the hill...

Down the hill...

In the snow..

On the last day while my guide and I were diligently glassing the hills for stags, my better half (with no binoculars) points and says, “Hey are those deer there?” Well so much for us “hunters” and our binoculars… We spotted a group of 6-8 deer moving about 300 meters down on a lower hill moving up hill to a valley between our hill and another. We quickly sunk back to the other side of our hill to ambush them as they made it across the valley. We made it but not quite fast enough the deer almost made it into some trees, hinds first and then stags. The guide set up the sticks and I aimed at what looked to be a nice 10 pointer about to move into some trees. As I aimed I had the devil of a time getting the safety to disengage. By the time I got done monkeying around with the dad blasted thing the stag had slipped into the trees. We thought all was lost. It was the last day and the deer had made it into the trees. We had worked the trees the day before and they were thick without much visibility. Then one last stag was seen moving, he was younger and smaller, but hell this was the last day. First thing I disengaged the safety, and aimed over the sticks. Shot was made at about 150m or so. Good hit in the lungs with the bullet passing through and breaking the far shoulder and exiting (man I love 9.3s!). The stag ran for about 50m and then collapsed. He was a nice little 8 pointer, not the largest stag, but a good honest one after wonderful hunt.

Spotting the deer

Making the sneek...

Taking the shot.

After the shot.

A local hunter's trophy room.

I am waiting for some pictures of woodcock and boar hunting in the South and in Brittany and will post them soon along with tourist pictures…

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In regards to action he should devote himself to hunting...
-Machiavelli