![]() “Where they are having this is the center of Squirrel Hill,” said Caplan, during the vigil. As Shabbat ended, throngs of people gathered in the town center to mourn and to face the future together by doing the Jewish ritual of “Havdalah,” or separation, that marks the move from holy Shabbat to ordinary day. I could tell he was decent-sized and hoped I’d get a better look in a few weeks when I was back to bowhunt.The Tree of Life building sits near a church, the public library and the JCC, and that’s where the town of about 15,000 held a vigil for the shooting victims. As I got up from my seated position on the forest floor a nice buck had walked up behind me and bolted when he saw me. I tried every angle and getting the same results had to laugh at my failure. I shot a few photos of my bounty on a neat, hollowed out log and quickly realized my arms were too short, and my head too fat, for a nice selfie of me and my first, and likely only, limit of squirrels for the 2016 season. As I reached down to pick him up I glanced at my watch and it was 7:59 a.m. The fifth and final of a five-squirrel limit fell exactly as the last four and I was close enough to my truck I could have nearly tossed him into the bed. Silently slipping through the timber I closed the distance to about 25 yards and finally caught a glimpse of the squirrel’s popping tail as he barked. I scooped up my fourth squirrel just as another cut loose with scolding barks within yards of the road where I’d parked. But I took my time, which is rather unusual for me, and got into the ideal position with a rest and made another clean shot. The leaf canopy was so thick I had trouble getting a clean alley for a head shot. A portly squirrel was cutting more nuts and running from limb to limb as if trying to decide which one to take. I raised the key fob to my head and did it again and my trunk honked its familiar lock signal.Įasing away from the road and towards the creek I was about to call again when I noticed movement high above in the tallest reaches of a big Hackberry tree. I pressed the “lock” button but got no response. I silently wondered if I had remembered to lock my doors and took my keys from my front right pocket. I glanced back towards the road and saw my truck sitting there. I got the crosshairs settled on the third squirrel as easily as the second and the result was exactly the same. The forest floor was incredibly passive, and easily navigable, as a result of huge summer rains that flooded the creek numerous times and washed away noisy sticks and leaves. I took a few steps and shortly had him staring straight at me and this time I made a gentle squeeze of the trigger and he never twitched with a perfect head shot and fell from the tree.Īnother squirrel was jumping limb to limb behind me and I slipped that way quietly as I could. ![]() No sooner than he hit the ground another squirrel announced his presence directly in front of me. However, a “deer-like” shot right behind the front shoulder sent him tumbling down. Admittedly, I suffered from a bit of squirrel fever and flinched like a toad in a hail storm when I pulled the trigger. 22 rimfire came up easily and I peered through the scope and got the cross hairs centered squarely on his head. The first tree rat came running down from its two-story perch just above and to my right. ![]() Ten minutes later I hit the call and response was immediate. I went no more than 15 yards and leaned up against a tree waiting for a bit more shooting light. However, I didn’t anticipate my hunt would be quite THAT good.Īfter a liberal dousing of bug spray, moreso out of habit rather than a result of bothersome mosquitoes, I eased off the gravel road and crossed a barbed wire fence at 7:15 a.m. Both Cody and Dylan have shot easy 5-rat limits from this spot in the past so I knew my odds were good. ![]() The morning was beautiful and a comfortable 58 degrees when I rolled up to a spot I deer hunt that’s loaded with squirrels. ![]()
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