I’d just gotten back from a round of business trips and had a free morning, a new rifle, and a young squirrel season in front of me. So I decided to load up my gear and wake up at 4:30 the next morning for the 1.5 hour drive to a State Forest up north that I often hunt. Even though I have several private fasrms to hunt, I like to hit public land on a frequent basis, enjoying the large tracks of ground to wander over and a need to bring my “A” game.

I got to the woods just before daybreak, parked the car, geared up and hiked about a quarter mile into the heavy bush. I found a spot that I knew was amongst several mast producing trees and sat at the base of a tree and waited, while the sun worked its way up slowly lighting my surroundings. In the still morning I heard a gnawing above and heard a tree branch shaking. Watching for about ten minutes I finally saw a squirrel head through a cluster of foliage, and with my rifle propped on a set of solid bipod shooting sticks, lined up and squeezed the trigger on my Daystate Huntsman Classic. A light pull on the trigger which broke like glass, was followed by the squirrel crashing down without a twitch. First one in the bag, which I collected and moved on slowly looking for my next stop.

Fifteen minutes later I heard barking ahead, and made my way in that general direction while trying to pinpoint the sound. Then I saw a flash of tail being twiched about twenty feet up on a tree trunk. I slid down and brought the gun up while leaning against a nearby oak. The squirrel started running up, down and around as I kneeled there motionless. Finally he stopped hanging on the trunk upside down. The trigger broke and squirrel two hit the ground. I sat in the spot waiting to see if another squirrel was around, the one laying on the ground had been barking at something. A couple minutes later I saw another one jumping through the canopy. He ended up in the same tree, and sat in a fork looking straight at me. My croshairs were set on his head and I sent the third pellet of the day flying. This time, and I don’t know why, I missed.hitting two inches high. Shaking my head and pondering my miss, I collected up my second squirrel and bagged him, then hiked at a fast rate through the steep hilly terrain (not so common in Northern Indiana, but it”s there)! I came out at an abandoned dirt road and move along about a quarter mile, when I saw a big fox squirrel on the ground behind a fallen log scratching around the leaves, about sixty yards away. I sat down and set up my sticks, laying the rifle in the saddle. I had a rock steady hold, and watched through my scope as my intended target moved about in jerky stop and go movement. Then he stopped for a moment, looking straight away from me. Using the opportunity I aimed with my aimpoint between the crosshair and the first mildot then shot, flipping the squirrel into a nose dive.

I missed one more opportunity a little further along, taking an offhand shot at a squirrel at 30 yards that popped around a tree trunk and started barking at me. I sent a shower of bark flying an inch over his head, and believe I misjudged the distance. At any rate, I was happy with three squirrels in the bag and as it was close to ten decided to head home, shower, and take my wife to lunch before out daughter got home from school. I’ve said this many times in the past, but its these short and frequent hunting trips that keep me energized during a very hectic work schedule. On my drive home I spotted a couple other potential hunting spots on public lands that I’ve never explored, and already started planning my next outing

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