A Firearms Odyssey: Hunting for Boomers, Gunning for Prairie Rats, My Introduction to .22 BR, Tube Guns, Shooting ‘The Great White Buffalo’ and the Sporting Rifle Match (Where I Met My Match) – Part 2

 

Gunning for Prairie Rats

 

At the time of Boomershoot in April of 2009, I had never tried my hand at shooting prairie dogs. I’d been subscribing to both Precision Shooting and The Varmint Hunter magazines for several years, enjoying the various stories about shooting the grass rats and had wanted to try it for some time. I contacted an advertiser in The Varmint Hunter, an outfit called Bad River Bucks and Birds.

Speaking with a very nice fellow named Brett in early 2009, we agreed that for a nominal fee, I could spend an afternoon at their ranch on my way back to Michigan from Boomershoot in the first week of May. Brett did caution me that due to the early time of year, I would likely not see many dogs up and about. He explained that the females would be down in the dens with their pups and only males would be up and out in the sun. I was okay with this scenario, as I just wanted to be out there taking the shots. The ranch where I would be shooting is called Bad River Bucks and Birds. They are located near Draper South Dakota, just off I-90.

 

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

Winding my way from Orofino back east on scenic US 12 to Missoula and across Montana, Wyoming and into South Dakota, I spent the night in Rapid City and then headed toward Draper for the showdown with the dogs. I arrived at the ranch and was escorted back to the dog town area. There was a shooting bench already at the site, so I used that instead of hauling mine out and setting it up.

 

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

The field of view was vast and there were plenty of dog mounds all over the place. Looking forward from the bench, I would be shooting through a three wire fence.

 

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

Luckily the point of aim with the rifles on bench lay between the fence wire strands and there would be no interference. Also, I could turn 90 degrees to the left and shoot at some dog mounds down along the fence line.

 

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

While I was setting up my gear and getting ready, I spotted a dog up close just past the fence. He seemed to be curious about me and was looking my way, checking me out. I got a camera shot through the scope at him, but he skedaddled before I could get a shot off.

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

I started off using a Savage 12LRPV in .204 Ruger topped with a Nightforce 8-32 x 56 scope. As I was alone, any confirmation of hits would be done through the rifle scope.

 

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

I did have a spotting scope and a rangefinder with me, but ended up relying on my binoculars to scan the dog town to locate the dogs.  I spent a while throwing a bunch of 26 grain Barnes Varmint Grenades all over the prairie with no luck. I would see the dirt splash near a dog, it would jump and dive back down into the den or scoot across the grass to another mound. The day was sunny and quite pleasant, but there was a pretty stiff breeze blowing across these grasslands and the light .204 bullets were dancing in the wind. After too many ‘close but no cigar’ shots, I put the Savage back in the truck and brought out a Tikka T3 Tactical chambered in .223 with a Nightforce 5.5-22 x 56 mounted on top. It has a 1 in 8″ twist barrel and I started using some heavier Black Hills 68 grain ammo.

 

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

This combination brought the shots much closer to the dogs and I was convinced that success would soon come. After a short time I was targeting a solitary dog on a mound down along the fence line. I took the shot and the dog tumbled in the air, landed and lay still. I finally had my first Prairie Rat!

 

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

I tried using the rangefinder to grab the distance from the bench to the deceased dog, but it wouldn’t settle on a reading.

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

I came up with a scheme to allow for a reading. I have a yellow Pelican case that I carry a bench rest in. This seemed like a good candidate for a reflective surface to bounce the rangefinder’s laser off of. I drove the truck down to the dead dog and placed the case behind the body and drove back to the bench and took a reading. It ranged at 323 yd. A fine beginning, but the afternoon was not finished and neither was I.

 

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

I continued to shoot at several dogs at various distances and after some time got another one.

 

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

The shot that took this dog down was taken through the fence and I couldn’t drive the truck out to the dog. I grabbed the rangefinder at carefully made my way through the fence. Did I mention that it was barbed wire? Also, being from a part of the country where we don’t concern ourselves with venomous snakes, I wasn’t sure if the sunny afternoon, mild temperature and calendar would align in such a way to suggest that I be on the lookout for more than just the cow pies as I made my way toward the dead dog. I was wearing low cut moccasin deck shoes – not exactly the best snake bite prevention attire. Thankfully I didn’t encounter anything more dangerous than the aforementioned cow pies and managed to not step in any. Once I arrived at the scene of the dead dog, I lasered back to the truck . . .

 

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

. . . and the reading was 573 yd.!  I was ecstatic.

Now, I was aware that being by myself, this would not qualify me to become a member of the Varmint Hunter Association’s 500 yd. Club. Their rules stipulate that for any distance shot to be officially recognized, it must be witnessed by another association member. Oh well. I was still pumped anyway. One doesn’t always need to have others witness something well done.

Back at the bench, I continued to scan for dogs and take some shots after the second kill, but the afternoon was waning and around 5:30 I called it quits and loaded up the truck. Time to hit the road back to the freeway.

 

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

I can’t remember seeing such a long straight road before. Where I come from, the roads may be straight for a while, but tend to curve around the lakes (plus there’s trees).

It was now time to head east toward home. I always stop after crossing the Missouri River and reflect on my latest western journey.

 

photo by Dave RNS Photographer ©

 

Once I’m on the east side of the river I feel like I have left the West behind and the story for this year is finished. I still have about 14 hours of driving to make it back home. There’s nothing between the Missouri River and Michigan that holds much interest for me, only an interstate rest stop somewhere to grab a little shuteye when I get exhausted. There were, however, plenty of miles to contemplate what cartridge to chamber that Hart .22 caliber  barrel that I won at the Boomershoot dinner.   Hmmmmm.

 

Next:      Part 3            My Introduction to .22 BR

 

Previous Chapter:

Part   1 Hunting for Boomers