Daughter took this of me lining up on a 'bou. The short story: coupla years ago I bought my daughter a Bergara B14 rifle in .308. Nothing fancy. I'd been looking for a 7mm08, but no ammo was available for months, so I got a .308 as ammo for that was available. Added scope and bipod, and it was a sweet shooting rifle. Her success on caribou has been documented in prior posts. I shot her rifle quite a bit and really liked it. The stock fit, the trigger pull was light and crisp, the recoil light, ammo was available and relatively cheap. It killed cleanly, in her hands, out to 320 yards with less kick and meat damage than my old-meat-in-the-pot 7mm RM. So I bought my own, shot a pile of 7.62x51 FMJ through it, then dialed it in with hunting bullets.
Yesterday we went looking for Fortymile Caribou. And we found some. Over a mountain and into a bowl where we got one 2 years ago. It was a hike, but the weather was nice and the snowpack shallow. A few other hunters were in the general area, but we never felt crowded. A small group of 'bou looked like it was headed our way, so we belly-crawled, duck-walked, and otter-slid our way down and across the bowl to set up. I found a solid rock in the snow and got set. Real solid, like bench rest and sandbag solid. Here they came, following other caribou tracks in the snow. It looked promising. Come on baby. Either sex was legal, and I was looking for a fat cow or yearling.
Both were in the little herd about 500 yards out. Couldn't get the range finder to range find. Maybe too much reflection off the snow, so I was guessing. But still too far. Each time they paused they bunched up, except the last one in line. Then it "felt" like they were in range, so held a bit high on the straggler and squeezed. Bang! Whap! and down it went. 2 hoof kicks and all was still. Within a minute a raven landed next to it, beating me to our meat. Dear daughter ran back up and over the mountain to fetch our sled. She wore appropriate, Dad-approved foot ware this time, not Crocs! I chased the Raven away and started cutting. My bullet hit high in the lungs and out the far side. Lots of lung damage, little meat damage. It was noticeably bigger than North Slope caribou.
So I pulled, she pushed, and we sledded that 'bou back up and over. It was a sweaty workout, not epic but plenty rigorous for sure. In summary, a nice hunt, and a great start with my new rifle. Here's hoping your hunts are fruitful and safe!
