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BabaYaga

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BabaYaga last won the day on March 17 2022

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  1. OR....OR...and hear me out. We hung around for a little while, and being the better team that they are, went on to beat our ass as good teams are supposed to do.
  2. I had the distinct pleasure to hunt over exceptionally trained bird dogs once in the panhandle looking for pheasants. It's amazing. These dogs are just special. The coordination and control between dog and owner is a sight to behold. It's as addictive as anything I've ever done hunting. It's fast paced. You cover a ton of ground. And to be the guy who has invested the time and resources into a dog like that, has to be the best feeling. We all love our dogs, but to coordinate and work WITH your dog in partnership. It's a cool thing to see. Even if the hunt results are sparce, it's still time in the field with friends and dogs you've spent so much time working with.
  3. guilty..... In the aggregate, I've killed more birds with my g-fathers old Model 12 .16g pump with poly-chokes. I was lethal with that rattly old girl up until it was lost in a messy estate feud when the g-parents passed. My .20g Browning B80 is a close second. My initial H&R single-shot .20g is 3rd.
  4. What's the old saying, deer hunters show up in fancy trucks, quail hunters show up in helicopters. We used to lease to a group of dedicated bird hunters. They leased our place and all the surrounding places. Money was no option. They showed up in King Ranch diesels, with custom aluminum dog crates bolted to the truck bed. Dogs were from custom breeders, shipped off out of state for training, with their $5K+ custom shotguns, and GPS collars for the dogs. They move through our 690 acres in less than 4 hours. Nice group. Don't begrudge them one bit. You can just see how upland bird hunters take their shit very, very seriously. They only leased quail. No deer, turkey, or ducks. They were in and out.
  5. Hotel room in Scottsdale. Just saw this. Hahahahahahhahaha
  6. Yep, I think it is probably the genesis behind the .327mag. Performance is all about penetration (what she said...). The .357 is arguably the "best" handgun caliber there is in terms if penetration, terminal ballistics and kinetic energy. It's what led to the .357Sig and why the FBI was so enamored with the 10mm and the subsequent .40S&W. Problem is they're all so hard to control and follow up shots are a bitch. The .327 packs a punch, but is much easier to manage than the .357, but is superior is almost every way to the .38. It also follows the Golden Rule of firearm manufacturing: new calibers drive sales and you don't have to reinvent the platform.
  7. I'm talking those ultralight ones that are half that. 12-13ozs
  8. There's a metric shit-ton of Taurus Judge's out there and I haven't heard many issues from them. Wheel guns aren't exactly the most difficult items to produce, especially short barreled ones that are good for keeping you safe pumping gas or walking to/from your car. Longer range, consistent accuracy isn't really part of the equation. And for the record, and I have fired a ton of BIG handguns from 454's to .50 Desert eagles. NOTHING made we want to pack it up and head inside more than those little f'ing .357 hammerless, ultralight snubbies. JFC it's like grabbing a live wire. My wrist snapped back. Loud as hell. Damn hand near went numb. Utterly worthless. After the first shot you are so discombobulated and a follow-up shot is out of the question.
  9. Welp, little Yaga just signed her national letter of intent to keep playing at the next level. Five girls in her class are moving on in their respective sports. We know them all and have watched them grow and mature from their time together in elementary school. It's surreal to see them all together one last time for their senior seasons. Little dusty in here....
  10. Your ranch is haunted.....
  11. LOL, they can make a racket. Sound like little jets coming in. forgive me I've told this before, but it reminded me. So we have a little sitting area on the back porch by the pool and I mounted a TV on the back wall. Inevitably mourning doves built a nest on the wall bracket behind the TV. Doing what doves do, you can hear them inside as there are a row of big windows so you see out to the yard, etc. I take the nest down, they come back. Repeat. Son's on the couch and hears them coo'ing. "damn owls are back Dad" What? The owls, on the back porch, I always hear them. I'm like buddy......those are doves, not owls. He's looks it up, then is like....."my bad" I forget he didn't spend weeks every summer and over the Holidays at the ranch growing up like I did. I got shipped off ala boarding school and got put to work, but also spent so much time outside I can damn near recognize by sight and sound most Texas birds/animals. I still give him shit about that.
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