webber
Well-known member
Webber & Gunner Gordons Scotland Trip 2013
I’ve been going to the same farm in Scotland to shoot rabbits, pigeon and crows for 20 years or so, this year was Gunner Gordons third trip.
The trip took place at the beginning of September; I apologise for the delay in the presenting this report, but as you will learn there’s been quite a bit to write. May I suggest a brew and a few biscuits; it’s in excess of 5,500 words. I do have a few pictures on my phone, but need some assistance in retrieving them. Enjoy!
Each year mental notes are made with regards to possible improvements to either the menu or equipment. We rectified a couple of items shortly after our return, we obtained two pigeon magnets and GG made a nice pivot tube for the floater to replace the one that had been lost the previous year.
The couple of weeks prior to the trip are usually used to check and prepare kit, we changed a couple of batteries, counted ammo and that was about it. GG and I were both busy at Worsley on Bank Holiday Monday, and then busy on Friday evening parking cars for rugby fans. The Rangie is usually loaded the night prior to our departure with the exception of guns, ammo and food. I had officially taken Friday off work to load the car etc. However numerous issues at work led to me only getting about one hour, I did however put it to good use and loaded the quad bike with my large pigeon shooting rucksack, and two other large pieces of luggage thus leaving more space in the car.
I arrived home from work a little before 11pm, and soon hit the sack, this did not bode well for our traditional early start.
I started to load the Rangie at 7:30, and was almost ready for GG and his gear when he rolled up shortly after 8am. We set off shortly before 9am and headed for the M6 and North.
Every year the trip is beset by some form of buffoonery or other, however as we approached Charnock Richard, I realised that I’d not packed my crocks, a new addition to the kit, but one that I’d have to do without.
We refuelled with Autogas at Gretna and changed drivers, and did the same at Dundee; I always marvel at the Forth Bridge, and noticed that for the first time I could see no scaffolding or painters, it looks like they mean business with the new high tech paint. The new road bridge is making progress and headlined to open in 2016. The overtime was being canned, so I guess that either the existing bridge is worse than they are letting on, or the English are paying for it!
We made our way towards Stonehaven and called in at the filling station at Fiddes Bridge for a top up of Autogas, necessary since Tesco managed to close the small filling station in Banchory. Sadly our efforts were in vein, “sorry no gas” was taped to the dispenser.
As we made our way across the moorland road leading to our destination, we almost quite literally bumped into our host who was travelling to Stonehaven with a trailer full of sheep. The meeting was quite short and sweet as he was already late. George advised us that the caravan was “just about ready, oh and there’s no telly”. Never mind we thought, we’ll pick up a radio in Banchory in the morning.
We arrived all on 5pm, unloaded our gear, had a brew and went for a drive down to the village to see if any crops had been cut. Sadly not, so we called at the farm, Charlie wasn’t around, but the combine was ready to roll, we left a message and returned to base for dinner; only two rabbits spotted, not a good omen.
GG rustled up one of his concoctions, Goblin puddings, not to my taste, and definitely off the menu for next year. As darkness fell we readied the lamp and made our way to the fields over the road, we made a circuit, but saw only one rabbit, oh dear, back to base brew and bed.
Sunday morning dawned all too soon, but following a brew, we were soon out of the door armed with the HMRs and a brace of HSL tripods that had only been delivered on Friday. We took a very slow stroll towards the livestock shed on the way to the mountain and moor. We rested on a dry stone wall and glassed the side of a hill that once bounced with bunnies, but not today, not a peek.
We set the tripods to our respective heights, GG being a good foot shorter than I; we were both impressed with the stability. GG was impressed with the two MTM bullet wallets that he’d picked up in my shop. We both have one for .22 LR and one for HMR bullets although the wallet case will hold either calibre. The bullets are secured and don’t rattle in your pocket but are quickly available.
Just a few test shots fired and back to base for one GGs full English breakfasts. After breakfast a short snooze, then down to the village to check out the combining and pigeon / crow situation.
From a distance we could see the combine across the valley harvesting barley on a large field on a slope of about 45 degrees. We could also see that a disused track up the hill side had been recently reinstated as the excavator was still on site. We decided to head for the quarry by the river where we know that a couple of flight lines usually exist. As we approached the area we could see a reasonable area had been flattened and was being hit by both woodies and Jackdaws. I parked the Rangie in the quarry and we carried the equipment and guns the short distance to where I’d decided to build the hide amidst the long grasses and weeds on one side of the abandoned quarry.
We used the flattened area and tram lines to set up a few shell decoys and floaters. Over the last 5 years or so I’ve had a lot of bad luck, so I was pleasantly surprised when I was able to buy some additional decoys, floater, stealth net poles and bag, all new, for a very modest sum a few days prior to departure. We set up a whirly out in the crop and made use of a very good full bodied winged decoy acquired as part of the deal; I must remember to track these deeks down and try to stock them. Last year we lost the pivot pole for one of the floaters, GG made an excellent replacement and handed it to me a few weeks prior to departure; however in true engineer form I needed to modify it, and did so, bur search though we did, we could not find the pole, so one floater remained unused.
We had a few hours of slow but steady shooting mainly Jackdaws but we collected more than sufficient pigeon for a decent breakfast. GG was shooting his trusty Beretta A303; I was putting one of the new Bernardelli Mega Synthetics through its paces. I’m sure that you’ll all expect me to start banging on the Fiocchi cartridge drum at this point, so I’m sorry to disappoint. For around a year I’ve had a couple of boxes on a top shelf in the cartridge store. One box had Scotland 2013 written on it. Every now and then someone comes into the shop with spurious cartridges. “My uncles died” “I’ve sold all my guns” etc. Can you do something with these cartridges? Of course I can, thank you! So for the first couple of days we both shot a united nations, united colours of god knows where cartridges. The only consistency was cartridges between 28 and 36 grams 4s to 6.5s; they come out of the bag however they do. Berettas are well known for their ability to cycle a multitude of different ammunition, the Bernardelli is the new kid on the block, but it handled every cartridge loaded and ejected the spent case forward and right, so no one got pestered by flying cases as is the norm with many semi autos.
At around 4pm nature seemed to flick a switch, the birds dried up, and so did our thermos, so we packed up and headed back to base. GG soon rustled up what passed as dinner, meat balls. I don’t mind meat balls, but they do need to contain some meat or at least have passed within 100 yards of something with a hoof at some point in its manufacture. Least said, best mended, but meat balls will not feature on next years menu.
Following a short snooze we headed off in the Rangie with rifles for some target practice in a favoured dell. The light started to dim rapidly, and at around 7pm the last shots were taken as it became impossible to see the fine lines on the targets. We headed back to base for a brew, and then out with the lamp in the Rangie covering a number of fields that one heaved with bunnies, but not this trip. As we had no telly and no radio I was in bed for 9:30..
Monday soon arrived; we wasted no time in taking breakfast and making our way down to the village. A reccy from across the valley showed masses of crows / jackdaws on the steep field that had been combined the day before. I drove the Rangie up the slope, unloaded the gear and guns and then parked at the bottom of the slope. I’d already explained to GG how and where to set the decoys and he was well on with the job when I got back up the hill. We built a hide utilising two round bales and nets against a hedge, I set a hide pole to ensure that it would not be possible for us to send any lead in the direction of a house some distance away. Another of the floaters was sin binned as the full bodied winged decoy had gone AWOL. We soon had some interest and settled in for a days shooting.
We started on freebie cartridges, but soon had to break out some Caledonian cartridges that we’d bought a few years ago. It seemed fitting that they should be shot in the area where they were manufactured. We enjoyed good weather and slow but steady shooting, as expected, nature flicked the switch at around 4pm. The combine was still rolling down in the valley as we packed up and made our way back to base. GG rustled something up, I can’t remember what it was, but it was a significant improvement on meatballs.
We removed the quad bike from its trailer and got ready to go lamping. We had a brew and biscuit whilst we waited for darkness to set in; I took a moment to call Jim our friend in Ballater to arrange some shooting with him. Darkness fell and we mounted up to set off down the farm track to commence the climb up the fields at the back of the farm house which border onto a large forestry plantation. Sadly we saw very little evidence of rabbits. I did an excellent head shot on one, but spent some time trying to find it in the long grass and thistles. Eventually I collected it Cossack style and placed it onto the rack on the front of the quad. We quartered and searched several fields but saw no further evidence of rabbits. We made our way back to the caravan; as we packed guns and lamp away we discovered that something was missing; the rabbit destined for our stew had other ideas and somehow slipped off the rack. GG advised that he did have some emergency pork chops in the fridge to fall back on. We had a brew, discussed our plans for Tuesday and hit the sack.
Tuesdays breakfast consisted of scrambled egg on wholemeal toast with thinly sliced pigeon breast, food of the gods, and hungry pigeon shooters. We discussed our timings for the day as we had a number of things to achieve. We built a bale hide on a large field by the river and had some interesting shooting although nothing decoyed well. We headed back to base at 11:30 had a very light lunch and set off for Banchory. I parked outside the hardware shop whilst GG went to buy more grub in the Coop. I went into the hardware shop to buy a jubilee clip, to correct another cock up, but finished up joining two clips together and not solving the problem at all. In my haste to pack my gear I’d packed a duff 6 volt battery which rendered my lamp inoperative. My spare lamp was 12 volt and worked fine, but the mounting bracket was missing so I tried to make a lash up, but lost interest and decided that I could manage without. I left the shop went to the car and looked around for GG; he was sat at a table, pint in hand at the pub. No time was wasted in finishing his pint and we were soon on our way headed for Ballater.
I do enjoy having a mooch around the Country wear shop in Ballater and having a chat with the proprietor Norman. We were soon chatting about guns and I mentioned the Bernardellis that I’m importing from Italy. GG went out to the car and brought the Mega Synthetic that I had been shooting. Norman soon had the gun into his shoulder and then in pieces on his desk.
Time was up, and we left the shop shortly after 5pm. I telephoned Jim to advise him that we were making our way to the chippy and to enquire what he would like. “Just tell em you want Jims usual order; I’ll be there in half an hour”. By the time Jim arrived GG was just walking into the dining area annexed to the chippy, perfect timing or good luck?
Suitably fed and watered we made our way to Jims cottage located by the side of the Dee and transferred our kit to his truck and set off on a short journey to his cousins farm. As we entered the drive two large bunnies were sat either side of the gateposts like sentinels, we entered the yard; Jim was quick to point out his latest off road rabbiting vehicle, a Honda CR goodness knows what, MOT failure for £150. I deliberately didn’t ask why it failed, as its predecessor managed to chuck the rear axle on both visits last year.
We transferred our kit and mounted up. Jim turned the key, and CLICK!.. He couldn’t understand the flat battery as his cousin had been making use if the vehicle whilst he waited for spare parts to repair his quad. Neil was summonsed; he produced what must pass for the longest set of heavy duty jump leads that I’ve ever seen. We jump started the 4x4 and within 100 yards we were shooting rabbits, broad day light and rabbits almost everywhere. We left the farm around 9:30 as the daylight had really started to fail. Jim hadn’t had time to fit the roof light and needed to prepare for his days work ahead. We collected a couple of bunnies for our traditional rabbit stew; the rest were left for the Buzzards and other birds of prey. We saw a few coveys of red legs; GG insisted in calling them Grouse despite repeatedly being advised to the contrary. We made our way back to Jims, made arrangements for a return visit on Thursday; we said our goodbyes and made our way back to base along the south bank road.
Wednesdays dawn came and went without an eyelid being batted. We had a later than normal start, whilst GG rustled up one of his breakfast concoctions, I found a mobile signal and contacted the office to put a plan that I’d hatched into action. Breakfast soon became brunch, followed by a short snooze. We decided that we’d give the pigeon a rest and do some target practice in anticipation of a bumper evening with Jim on Thursday.
After a couple of hours or so the wind got strong and started to blow for a storm, we made our way back to base and enjoyed a most excellent rabbit stew with suet dumplings. Following a short snooze we decided that it was too wet and windy to venture out, and so lacking either telly or radio we had an early bath.
Thursday saw an early start, following yet another of GGs one off breakfasts, scrambled egg, pork steak and pigeon breast. We headed off down to the village and had a drive around the various areas, some combined some not. Worryingly there was hardly a bird to be seen, we gave it until around 11:30 then headed back to base, not a shot fired. A light lunch, washed and changed, we loaded up for our evening trip in Ballater, and headed for Aberdeen with a visit to Andersons gun shop and an Autogas pump in mind.
We arrived at Andersons shortly before 2pm. I asked Neil if he had received an envelope in the post with some information about Bernardelli guns; he replied that he had, and was sort of interested, but that he would have to ask us to leave the shop. He explained that he had a tooth which required extraction, he was in a lot of pain, he was going to be late for his appointment, and his assistant had not turned in. As he locked the door I showed Neil a list of Autogas stations in the Aberdeen area and enquired as to which was the closest. His reply was Wellington, I’m going that way follow me!
A very quick few miles later we pulled into a Shell station advertising Autogas. GG coupled the car up and I went in to pay. After a while the attendant advised me that “the gas is not getting”. English obviously was not his first language. In despair I showed the list to a local driver who advised that King Street was probably the closest, so off we set via satnav in search of King Street and an Autogas pump. Little did we realise that we were about to encounter the city centre of Aberdeen, I saw some very interesting sights and buildings but failed to locate the Autogas pump. A further consultation to the list and again we set off via sat nav on our third attempt. Calor gas have been a major competitor of mine for decades, and I’m quite sure that I’ve been a minor thorn in their side, but I’ve never been so glad to see a Calor Gas sign, there was a joint sigh of relief as we pulled up alongside the Autogas pump, and a very efficient migrant worker attended to our requirements. He asked if the tank was leaking? “You take lot gas”. GG set the sat nav for Ballater and we set off happy to hear the click as the Rangie changed over automatically from petrol to gas.
We arrived in Ballater around 4:15 and went into the Country wear shop to see Norman; he’d also received an envelope in the post, and this time was presented with the Bernardelli Synthetic in its proper case complete with chokes etc. Norman really had studied the brochures etc. And soon had the gun in pieces. He expressed a genuine interest in a Mega Sporting for his own use; I must send him the demonstrator to try out. The shop closes at 5pm. GG secured the gun and I contacted Jim to enquire what he would like for his evening meal, “just tell em Jims special”.
When I’m on holiday which isn’t often I’m drawn to charity shops, so the one across the road had a special attraction. It was a small shop with lots of ladies fashions, of no interest to me. As I turned to leave I spotted a pair of binoculars on a shelf. I picked them up, and had a quick look through them as you do, then I noticed the name “Carl Zeiss”. 8 x 32 £28 with case. Now those of you who know webber appreciate that I find it very difficult to part with cash, and finding my wallet can be a cumbersome exercise, but I produced £30 in record time and donated the change. I left the shop feeling like I’d had a win on the lottery.
We crossed the road to the Alexandra Hotel, entered and found a table for 3. Jim arrived moments before the food which was very good with a price to match.
We headed for Jims around 7:30, changed and loaded the gear into Jims truck and set off on the back road past the entrance to Balmoral and onwards to Jims cousins’ farm. As we’d used the quad very little we poured the contents of the jerry can into Jims 4x4 and then set off. We made one circuit in day light which faded fast. Jim produced a lamp and around we went again, no amount of shooting seemed to reduce the numbers, by now we knew the likely spots and put the knowledge and skill to good effect.
We left the farm at about 10:30 and headed for Jims, said our goodbyes and headed for base. As we left it started to rain, we passed no other vehicle throughout the whole of the return journey. We ended a very interesting and enjoyable day with a quick brew and bed.
Friday dawned late for us, following a late breakfast we headed down to the village in search of pigeon, and investigated some freshly combined fields, but decided on an old favourite; whilst our efforts were not in vein we failed to produce results comparable with previous years.
Following our evening meal we headed for a pre arranged session with Charlie. Shortly before Christmas we sent him a decent bottle of scotch via a courier. I paid for the carriage, at £58 it was about double the price of the whisky which GG baulked at paying. Therefore we purchased the bottle locally this year and presented it with thanks on our arrival.
The kettle was soon on the boil; coffee soon turned to cans of lager and triple very expensive whisky chasers, as I’m virtually tea total, I stayed on the coffee. Before the situation got too merry Charlie signed a permission letter covering all legal quarry including deer, and marked his newly acquired and existing land onto a new map that I’d bought. I could observe GG getting merrier by the moment and suggested that he try some coffee, but was told to get a life. I reminded him that I was not fit enough to carry him should the need arise. By 10:30 or so they’d both had pleasant sufficiency, and as we left Charlies house and the cold autumn air hit GG is was evident that the Scots had well and truly drunk the English under the table. GG required only a little assistance to the Rangie, but could hardly join two words together on the journey back to base.
We arrived at the caravan; I illuminated it with the headlights whilst GG made his way down the track. There is a short but steep grass banking leading to the two steps that climb to the decking. I anticipated GG having some fun negotiating this lot and wasn’t proved wrong. He made a few attempts at negotiating the obstacle in a vertical position, but always ended up rolling around on the banking and then onto the track which is covered in mud and manure..........nice! Eventually he decided to crawl up the banking and steps, but took a while to operate the gate catch. Eventually he made it to the caravan door in a vertical position and following many attempts managed to select the correct key and open the door. You may well ask why I hadn’t gone to his assistance. In my defence, I should point out that he was covered in ****, and I was splitting my sides with laughter. I do wish that I’d taken a video. I parked the car and entered the caravan, GG muttered something about a brew, but I eased him into his room, and in my firm authoritive voice said “BED”.
I was up around 7:30 and made a brew and had my Branflakes. I sat contemplating the final days pigeon shooting and how we may tackle some feral pigeon in one of Charlies buildings. GG eventually surfaced around 10am, trouser less but otherwise fully clothed. He said good morning and then entered the bathroom for a considerable while. Showered and changed he got stuck in and produced an excellent cooked breakfast, ate his fill and then fell asleep.
I did the washing up and changed etc. As GG was still fast asleep I decided that a snooze was in order. I was awoken by the sound of the small gate slamming shut. I noticed that GG had gone; I looked out of the window and saw him walking down the track to the left of one of the field barns; dressed in the same clothes that he’d cooked breakfast in; a real tree shirt and shorts. I noticed that he had a bottle of water in one hand and a can of coke in the other. I thought that he’d gone for a walk around the block so to speak to clear his head; I therefore had another snooze.
I arose from my nap around 12:30, I noted that GG wasn’t around and had a look out of the window, but couldn’t see him. Feeling peckish I put the kettle on and rustled something up. I then spotted a note, scribbled on a piece of cereal carton, “gone up left side of mountain, down right side”. Well that’s ******** the pigeon shooting I thought, he could have said something!
2:30 soon arrived and no sign of GG. Now GG is an experience hill walker, he knows the dos and don’ts. A short stroll is one thing, but he wasn’t dressed or equipped to climb 534 Meters in weather blowing for rain. I started to get worried. I got my newly acquired binoculars from the Rangie and walked up a hill to the right of the caravan I glassed the area carefully, but no sign of GG.
I returned to the Rangie and drove as fast as I could down the rough track to the base of the mountain. I glassed the whole area a number of times, I glassed until my eyes hurt. GG is only about 5Ft. He has a false knee, and is asthmatic; I was starting to get really worried.
I made my way as swiftly as possible and decided to have a chat with George. I explained the situation and the times involved etc. “Ay, best get the mountain rescue lads out; they’ll need a dog to find him”. I went to an area where I knew there was a good signal and dialled 999. I explained the situation and answered a number of detailed questions. I was told to stay where I was and to expect a call from mountain rescue. I asked George if he would drive up the forestry track and glass the area from suitable spots. I stayed put and watched the clock in the Rangie tick ever so slowly round. It was almost 4pm, no sign of GG and no call from mountain rescue. I was just about to call the police again when I spotted a small 4x4 coming down the track from the road. It was the farmers’ wife. She handed me a piece of paper; the police had been trying to contact me but couldn’t, so they’d tracked down the farm house and telephone number.
I went to a landline and called the telephone number quoting the job number stated on the note. After a few minutes I was contacted by Kenny from the mountain rescue in Banchory. He asked pretty much the same questions as the police had almost an hour previously. He explained that the team were on another job further down the glen and that they could be tied up for a couple of hours. He went on to explain that he’d arranged for another team to come over from Braemar; I knew that even with blues and twos it would take over an hour to make that journey in a Landy.
George returned and shook his head. This man had spent about the last 50 years glassing that hill. “There’s no sign, have you told them they’ll need a dog”. George explained that there is no track either up or down; it was over 20 years since he’d last been up there, the bracken was thick and very high, if he’s fallen we’ll never see him!
We spent what felt like an age supping tea and chomping on the best part of a packet of chocolate biscuits. George showed me the rifle that he’d owned for many years, a Parker Hale 243 used for the odd deer and fox. Eventually the telephone rang, it was Kenny from mountain rescue, the lads from Braemar were about 20 minutes away. I decided to go to the caravan to check and see if GG had sneaked in on the blindside. He couldn’t get into the caravan as it was locked and I had the only key. However, as I approached the caravan I spotted his boots on the decking. I banged on the annexe and shouted GG. I entered the annexe to see GG curled up in a sleeping bag on a bench.
“Oh you’re here are you”; “I’m here am I”; “I’ve got the F mountain rescue out looking for you” A long series of profanity followed. I quickly calmed down and returned to the farm house to call Kenny. He advised me to walk out of the door as the team were 200 meters away.
I introduced two of the team to GG who sheepishly gave them his details and answered a number of questions. They were happy that he was safe and well albeit a little cold. According to GG I panicked, according to the mountain rescue team I did the right thing. GG had gone out ill equipped, the weather was on the turn and they would have had a couple of hours of daylight to work in.
Following a brew or two GG made the peace by producing an excellent evening meal and super pudding. We went down to Charlies; he then took us to a Bothy that he now owns. As the farm where we have stayed has now been sold, it won’t be possible for us to stay there in future. Charlie has kindly offered us the use of his bothy. We entered the building to find it partially flooded and mould ridden, a water pipe had burst and had been running for a considerable time;we stopped the leak. Our hopes of superior accommodation were dashed in one blow. Charlie showed us around his newly acquired buildings and the pigeon that we would have shot had we arrived in a timely manner and suitably equipped. We dropped Charlie off at his home and said our final farewells, headed for base a brew and bed.
My feet hit the floor at precisely 7am. As I emerged from my room GG emerged from his. A quick breakfast and I started to load some gear onto the quad and load the Rangie; by 9:30 we were ready for off and made our way down the track for the final time. The sectional building which had lay in a field for decades had been erected at Georges replacement home and steading. We called in to say goodbye and thank you to George and his wife; we wished them well and set off around 9:45. I drove very slowly and kept glimpsing over my right shoulder, stopping occasionally remembering some of the very happy times that I’ve shared over many years. I wiped a small tear from my eye and concentrated on the journey home headed towards Stonehaven.
As is tradition we stopped at the filling station at Fiddes Bridge for Autogas, but try after try failed to produce any product. We made it to the filling station in Dundee without changeover to petrol. Also traditional is that the discussion for next years trip is commenced on the Forth road bridge.
Discussions included fitting out the bothy or buying a large touring caravan; however no final decision s have been made, although GG did declare that he’d climbed his last hill. “I’m too old and knackered for that game”
We arrived home around 5pm. We unloaded the Rangie and GG crossed the road to his home. I sat down on the chair in the hallway to change my shoes for the crocks that I’d forgot to take. As I slid the crocks out from under the chair, something stabbed me in my heel; no lollypops for guessing what it was? Those who guessed the aluminium pivot for the floater would be correct. We’d turfed the Rangie inside out looking for that part!
All’s well that ends well!
webber
I’ve been going to the same farm in Scotland to shoot rabbits, pigeon and crows for 20 years or so, this year was Gunner Gordons third trip.
The trip took place at the beginning of September; I apologise for the delay in the presenting this report, but as you will learn there’s been quite a bit to write. May I suggest a brew and a few biscuits; it’s in excess of 5,500 words. I do have a few pictures on my phone, but need some assistance in retrieving them. Enjoy!
Each year mental notes are made with regards to possible improvements to either the menu or equipment. We rectified a couple of items shortly after our return, we obtained two pigeon magnets and GG made a nice pivot tube for the floater to replace the one that had been lost the previous year.
The couple of weeks prior to the trip are usually used to check and prepare kit, we changed a couple of batteries, counted ammo and that was about it. GG and I were both busy at Worsley on Bank Holiday Monday, and then busy on Friday evening parking cars for rugby fans. The Rangie is usually loaded the night prior to our departure with the exception of guns, ammo and food. I had officially taken Friday off work to load the car etc. However numerous issues at work led to me only getting about one hour, I did however put it to good use and loaded the quad bike with my large pigeon shooting rucksack, and two other large pieces of luggage thus leaving more space in the car.
I arrived home from work a little before 11pm, and soon hit the sack, this did not bode well for our traditional early start.
I started to load the Rangie at 7:30, and was almost ready for GG and his gear when he rolled up shortly after 8am. We set off shortly before 9am and headed for the M6 and North.
Every year the trip is beset by some form of buffoonery or other, however as we approached Charnock Richard, I realised that I’d not packed my crocks, a new addition to the kit, but one that I’d have to do without.
We refuelled with Autogas at Gretna and changed drivers, and did the same at Dundee; I always marvel at the Forth Bridge, and noticed that for the first time I could see no scaffolding or painters, it looks like they mean business with the new high tech paint. The new road bridge is making progress and headlined to open in 2016. The overtime was being canned, so I guess that either the existing bridge is worse than they are letting on, or the English are paying for it!
We made our way towards Stonehaven and called in at the filling station at Fiddes Bridge for a top up of Autogas, necessary since Tesco managed to close the small filling station in Banchory. Sadly our efforts were in vein, “sorry no gas” was taped to the dispenser.
As we made our way across the moorland road leading to our destination, we almost quite literally bumped into our host who was travelling to Stonehaven with a trailer full of sheep. The meeting was quite short and sweet as he was already late. George advised us that the caravan was “just about ready, oh and there’s no telly”. Never mind we thought, we’ll pick up a radio in Banchory in the morning.
We arrived all on 5pm, unloaded our gear, had a brew and went for a drive down to the village to see if any crops had been cut. Sadly not, so we called at the farm, Charlie wasn’t around, but the combine was ready to roll, we left a message and returned to base for dinner; only two rabbits spotted, not a good omen.
GG rustled up one of his concoctions, Goblin puddings, not to my taste, and definitely off the menu for next year. As darkness fell we readied the lamp and made our way to the fields over the road, we made a circuit, but saw only one rabbit, oh dear, back to base brew and bed.
Sunday morning dawned all too soon, but following a brew, we were soon out of the door armed with the HMRs and a brace of HSL tripods that had only been delivered on Friday. We took a very slow stroll towards the livestock shed on the way to the mountain and moor. We rested on a dry stone wall and glassed the side of a hill that once bounced with bunnies, but not today, not a peek.
We set the tripods to our respective heights, GG being a good foot shorter than I; we were both impressed with the stability. GG was impressed with the two MTM bullet wallets that he’d picked up in my shop. We both have one for .22 LR and one for HMR bullets although the wallet case will hold either calibre. The bullets are secured and don’t rattle in your pocket but are quickly available.
Just a few test shots fired and back to base for one GGs full English breakfasts. After breakfast a short snooze, then down to the village to check out the combining and pigeon / crow situation.
From a distance we could see the combine across the valley harvesting barley on a large field on a slope of about 45 degrees. We could also see that a disused track up the hill side had been recently reinstated as the excavator was still on site. We decided to head for the quarry by the river where we know that a couple of flight lines usually exist. As we approached the area we could see a reasonable area had been flattened and was being hit by both woodies and Jackdaws. I parked the Rangie in the quarry and we carried the equipment and guns the short distance to where I’d decided to build the hide amidst the long grasses and weeds on one side of the abandoned quarry.
We used the flattened area and tram lines to set up a few shell decoys and floaters. Over the last 5 years or so I’ve had a lot of bad luck, so I was pleasantly surprised when I was able to buy some additional decoys, floater, stealth net poles and bag, all new, for a very modest sum a few days prior to departure. We set up a whirly out in the crop and made use of a very good full bodied winged decoy acquired as part of the deal; I must remember to track these deeks down and try to stock them. Last year we lost the pivot pole for one of the floaters, GG made an excellent replacement and handed it to me a few weeks prior to departure; however in true engineer form I needed to modify it, and did so, bur search though we did, we could not find the pole, so one floater remained unused.
We had a few hours of slow but steady shooting mainly Jackdaws but we collected more than sufficient pigeon for a decent breakfast. GG was shooting his trusty Beretta A303; I was putting one of the new Bernardelli Mega Synthetics through its paces. I’m sure that you’ll all expect me to start banging on the Fiocchi cartridge drum at this point, so I’m sorry to disappoint. For around a year I’ve had a couple of boxes on a top shelf in the cartridge store. One box had Scotland 2013 written on it. Every now and then someone comes into the shop with spurious cartridges. “My uncles died” “I’ve sold all my guns” etc. Can you do something with these cartridges? Of course I can, thank you! So for the first couple of days we both shot a united nations, united colours of god knows where cartridges. The only consistency was cartridges between 28 and 36 grams 4s to 6.5s; they come out of the bag however they do. Berettas are well known for their ability to cycle a multitude of different ammunition, the Bernardelli is the new kid on the block, but it handled every cartridge loaded and ejected the spent case forward and right, so no one got pestered by flying cases as is the norm with many semi autos.
At around 4pm nature seemed to flick a switch, the birds dried up, and so did our thermos, so we packed up and headed back to base. GG soon rustled up what passed as dinner, meat balls. I don’t mind meat balls, but they do need to contain some meat or at least have passed within 100 yards of something with a hoof at some point in its manufacture. Least said, best mended, but meat balls will not feature on next years menu.
Following a short snooze we headed off in the Rangie with rifles for some target practice in a favoured dell. The light started to dim rapidly, and at around 7pm the last shots were taken as it became impossible to see the fine lines on the targets. We headed back to base for a brew, and then out with the lamp in the Rangie covering a number of fields that one heaved with bunnies, but not this trip. As we had no telly and no radio I was in bed for 9:30..
Monday soon arrived; we wasted no time in taking breakfast and making our way down to the village. A reccy from across the valley showed masses of crows / jackdaws on the steep field that had been combined the day before. I drove the Rangie up the slope, unloaded the gear and guns and then parked at the bottom of the slope. I’d already explained to GG how and where to set the decoys and he was well on with the job when I got back up the hill. We built a hide utilising two round bales and nets against a hedge, I set a hide pole to ensure that it would not be possible for us to send any lead in the direction of a house some distance away. Another of the floaters was sin binned as the full bodied winged decoy had gone AWOL. We soon had some interest and settled in for a days shooting.
We started on freebie cartridges, but soon had to break out some Caledonian cartridges that we’d bought a few years ago. It seemed fitting that they should be shot in the area where they were manufactured. We enjoyed good weather and slow but steady shooting, as expected, nature flicked the switch at around 4pm. The combine was still rolling down in the valley as we packed up and made our way back to base. GG rustled something up, I can’t remember what it was, but it was a significant improvement on meatballs.
We removed the quad bike from its trailer and got ready to go lamping. We had a brew and biscuit whilst we waited for darkness to set in; I took a moment to call Jim our friend in Ballater to arrange some shooting with him. Darkness fell and we mounted up to set off down the farm track to commence the climb up the fields at the back of the farm house which border onto a large forestry plantation. Sadly we saw very little evidence of rabbits. I did an excellent head shot on one, but spent some time trying to find it in the long grass and thistles. Eventually I collected it Cossack style and placed it onto the rack on the front of the quad. We quartered and searched several fields but saw no further evidence of rabbits. We made our way back to the caravan; as we packed guns and lamp away we discovered that something was missing; the rabbit destined for our stew had other ideas and somehow slipped off the rack. GG advised that he did have some emergency pork chops in the fridge to fall back on. We had a brew, discussed our plans for Tuesday and hit the sack.
Tuesdays breakfast consisted of scrambled egg on wholemeal toast with thinly sliced pigeon breast, food of the gods, and hungry pigeon shooters. We discussed our timings for the day as we had a number of things to achieve. We built a bale hide on a large field by the river and had some interesting shooting although nothing decoyed well. We headed back to base at 11:30 had a very light lunch and set off for Banchory. I parked outside the hardware shop whilst GG went to buy more grub in the Coop. I went into the hardware shop to buy a jubilee clip, to correct another cock up, but finished up joining two clips together and not solving the problem at all. In my haste to pack my gear I’d packed a duff 6 volt battery which rendered my lamp inoperative. My spare lamp was 12 volt and worked fine, but the mounting bracket was missing so I tried to make a lash up, but lost interest and decided that I could manage without. I left the shop went to the car and looked around for GG; he was sat at a table, pint in hand at the pub. No time was wasted in finishing his pint and we were soon on our way headed for Ballater.
I do enjoy having a mooch around the Country wear shop in Ballater and having a chat with the proprietor Norman. We were soon chatting about guns and I mentioned the Bernardellis that I’m importing from Italy. GG went out to the car and brought the Mega Synthetic that I had been shooting. Norman soon had the gun into his shoulder and then in pieces on his desk.
Time was up, and we left the shop shortly after 5pm. I telephoned Jim to advise him that we were making our way to the chippy and to enquire what he would like. “Just tell em you want Jims usual order; I’ll be there in half an hour”. By the time Jim arrived GG was just walking into the dining area annexed to the chippy, perfect timing or good luck?
Suitably fed and watered we made our way to Jims cottage located by the side of the Dee and transferred our kit to his truck and set off on a short journey to his cousins farm. As we entered the drive two large bunnies were sat either side of the gateposts like sentinels, we entered the yard; Jim was quick to point out his latest off road rabbiting vehicle, a Honda CR goodness knows what, MOT failure for £150. I deliberately didn’t ask why it failed, as its predecessor managed to chuck the rear axle on both visits last year.
We transferred our kit and mounted up. Jim turned the key, and CLICK!.. He couldn’t understand the flat battery as his cousin had been making use if the vehicle whilst he waited for spare parts to repair his quad. Neil was summonsed; he produced what must pass for the longest set of heavy duty jump leads that I’ve ever seen. We jump started the 4x4 and within 100 yards we were shooting rabbits, broad day light and rabbits almost everywhere. We left the farm around 9:30 as the daylight had really started to fail. Jim hadn’t had time to fit the roof light and needed to prepare for his days work ahead. We collected a couple of bunnies for our traditional rabbit stew; the rest were left for the Buzzards and other birds of prey. We saw a few coveys of red legs; GG insisted in calling them Grouse despite repeatedly being advised to the contrary. We made our way back to Jims, made arrangements for a return visit on Thursday; we said our goodbyes and made our way back to base along the south bank road.
Wednesdays dawn came and went without an eyelid being batted. We had a later than normal start, whilst GG rustled up one of his breakfast concoctions, I found a mobile signal and contacted the office to put a plan that I’d hatched into action. Breakfast soon became brunch, followed by a short snooze. We decided that we’d give the pigeon a rest and do some target practice in anticipation of a bumper evening with Jim on Thursday.
After a couple of hours or so the wind got strong and started to blow for a storm, we made our way back to base and enjoyed a most excellent rabbit stew with suet dumplings. Following a short snooze we decided that it was too wet and windy to venture out, and so lacking either telly or radio we had an early bath.
Thursday saw an early start, following yet another of GGs one off breakfasts, scrambled egg, pork steak and pigeon breast. We headed off down to the village and had a drive around the various areas, some combined some not. Worryingly there was hardly a bird to be seen, we gave it until around 11:30 then headed back to base, not a shot fired. A light lunch, washed and changed, we loaded up for our evening trip in Ballater, and headed for Aberdeen with a visit to Andersons gun shop and an Autogas pump in mind.
We arrived at Andersons shortly before 2pm. I asked Neil if he had received an envelope in the post with some information about Bernardelli guns; he replied that he had, and was sort of interested, but that he would have to ask us to leave the shop. He explained that he had a tooth which required extraction, he was in a lot of pain, he was going to be late for his appointment, and his assistant had not turned in. As he locked the door I showed Neil a list of Autogas stations in the Aberdeen area and enquired as to which was the closest. His reply was Wellington, I’m going that way follow me!
A very quick few miles later we pulled into a Shell station advertising Autogas. GG coupled the car up and I went in to pay. After a while the attendant advised me that “the gas is not getting”. English obviously was not his first language. In despair I showed the list to a local driver who advised that King Street was probably the closest, so off we set via satnav in search of King Street and an Autogas pump. Little did we realise that we were about to encounter the city centre of Aberdeen, I saw some very interesting sights and buildings but failed to locate the Autogas pump. A further consultation to the list and again we set off via sat nav on our third attempt. Calor gas have been a major competitor of mine for decades, and I’m quite sure that I’ve been a minor thorn in their side, but I’ve never been so glad to see a Calor Gas sign, there was a joint sigh of relief as we pulled up alongside the Autogas pump, and a very efficient migrant worker attended to our requirements. He asked if the tank was leaking? “You take lot gas”. GG set the sat nav for Ballater and we set off happy to hear the click as the Rangie changed over automatically from petrol to gas.
We arrived in Ballater around 4:15 and went into the Country wear shop to see Norman; he’d also received an envelope in the post, and this time was presented with the Bernardelli Synthetic in its proper case complete with chokes etc. Norman really had studied the brochures etc. And soon had the gun in pieces. He expressed a genuine interest in a Mega Sporting for his own use; I must send him the demonstrator to try out. The shop closes at 5pm. GG secured the gun and I contacted Jim to enquire what he would like for his evening meal, “just tell em Jims special”.
When I’m on holiday which isn’t often I’m drawn to charity shops, so the one across the road had a special attraction. It was a small shop with lots of ladies fashions, of no interest to me. As I turned to leave I spotted a pair of binoculars on a shelf. I picked them up, and had a quick look through them as you do, then I noticed the name “Carl Zeiss”. 8 x 32 £28 with case. Now those of you who know webber appreciate that I find it very difficult to part with cash, and finding my wallet can be a cumbersome exercise, but I produced £30 in record time and donated the change. I left the shop feeling like I’d had a win on the lottery.
We crossed the road to the Alexandra Hotel, entered and found a table for 3. Jim arrived moments before the food which was very good with a price to match.
We headed for Jims around 7:30, changed and loaded the gear into Jims truck and set off on the back road past the entrance to Balmoral and onwards to Jims cousins’ farm. As we’d used the quad very little we poured the contents of the jerry can into Jims 4x4 and then set off. We made one circuit in day light which faded fast. Jim produced a lamp and around we went again, no amount of shooting seemed to reduce the numbers, by now we knew the likely spots and put the knowledge and skill to good effect.
We left the farm at about 10:30 and headed for Jims, said our goodbyes and headed for base. As we left it started to rain, we passed no other vehicle throughout the whole of the return journey. We ended a very interesting and enjoyable day with a quick brew and bed.
Friday dawned late for us, following a late breakfast we headed down to the village in search of pigeon, and investigated some freshly combined fields, but decided on an old favourite; whilst our efforts were not in vein we failed to produce results comparable with previous years.
Following our evening meal we headed for a pre arranged session with Charlie. Shortly before Christmas we sent him a decent bottle of scotch via a courier. I paid for the carriage, at £58 it was about double the price of the whisky which GG baulked at paying. Therefore we purchased the bottle locally this year and presented it with thanks on our arrival.
The kettle was soon on the boil; coffee soon turned to cans of lager and triple very expensive whisky chasers, as I’m virtually tea total, I stayed on the coffee. Before the situation got too merry Charlie signed a permission letter covering all legal quarry including deer, and marked his newly acquired and existing land onto a new map that I’d bought. I could observe GG getting merrier by the moment and suggested that he try some coffee, but was told to get a life. I reminded him that I was not fit enough to carry him should the need arise. By 10:30 or so they’d both had pleasant sufficiency, and as we left Charlies house and the cold autumn air hit GG is was evident that the Scots had well and truly drunk the English under the table. GG required only a little assistance to the Rangie, but could hardly join two words together on the journey back to base.
We arrived at the caravan; I illuminated it with the headlights whilst GG made his way down the track. There is a short but steep grass banking leading to the two steps that climb to the decking. I anticipated GG having some fun negotiating this lot and wasn’t proved wrong. He made a few attempts at negotiating the obstacle in a vertical position, but always ended up rolling around on the banking and then onto the track which is covered in mud and manure..........nice! Eventually he decided to crawl up the banking and steps, but took a while to operate the gate catch. Eventually he made it to the caravan door in a vertical position and following many attempts managed to select the correct key and open the door. You may well ask why I hadn’t gone to his assistance. In my defence, I should point out that he was covered in ****, and I was splitting my sides with laughter. I do wish that I’d taken a video. I parked the car and entered the caravan, GG muttered something about a brew, but I eased him into his room, and in my firm authoritive voice said “BED”.
I was up around 7:30 and made a brew and had my Branflakes. I sat contemplating the final days pigeon shooting and how we may tackle some feral pigeon in one of Charlies buildings. GG eventually surfaced around 10am, trouser less but otherwise fully clothed. He said good morning and then entered the bathroom for a considerable while. Showered and changed he got stuck in and produced an excellent cooked breakfast, ate his fill and then fell asleep.
I did the washing up and changed etc. As GG was still fast asleep I decided that a snooze was in order. I was awoken by the sound of the small gate slamming shut. I noticed that GG had gone; I looked out of the window and saw him walking down the track to the left of one of the field barns; dressed in the same clothes that he’d cooked breakfast in; a real tree shirt and shorts. I noticed that he had a bottle of water in one hand and a can of coke in the other. I thought that he’d gone for a walk around the block so to speak to clear his head; I therefore had another snooze.
I arose from my nap around 12:30, I noted that GG wasn’t around and had a look out of the window, but couldn’t see him. Feeling peckish I put the kettle on and rustled something up. I then spotted a note, scribbled on a piece of cereal carton, “gone up left side of mountain, down right side”. Well that’s ******** the pigeon shooting I thought, he could have said something!
2:30 soon arrived and no sign of GG. Now GG is an experience hill walker, he knows the dos and don’ts. A short stroll is one thing, but he wasn’t dressed or equipped to climb 534 Meters in weather blowing for rain. I started to get worried. I got my newly acquired binoculars from the Rangie and walked up a hill to the right of the caravan I glassed the area carefully, but no sign of GG.
I returned to the Rangie and drove as fast as I could down the rough track to the base of the mountain. I glassed the whole area a number of times, I glassed until my eyes hurt. GG is only about 5Ft. He has a false knee, and is asthmatic; I was starting to get really worried.
I made my way as swiftly as possible and decided to have a chat with George. I explained the situation and the times involved etc. “Ay, best get the mountain rescue lads out; they’ll need a dog to find him”. I went to an area where I knew there was a good signal and dialled 999. I explained the situation and answered a number of detailed questions. I was told to stay where I was and to expect a call from mountain rescue. I asked George if he would drive up the forestry track and glass the area from suitable spots. I stayed put and watched the clock in the Rangie tick ever so slowly round. It was almost 4pm, no sign of GG and no call from mountain rescue. I was just about to call the police again when I spotted a small 4x4 coming down the track from the road. It was the farmers’ wife. She handed me a piece of paper; the police had been trying to contact me but couldn’t, so they’d tracked down the farm house and telephone number.
I went to a landline and called the telephone number quoting the job number stated on the note. After a few minutes I was contacted by Kenny from the mountain rescue in Banchory. He asked pretty much the same questions as the police had almost an hour previously. He explained that the team were on another job further down the glen and that they could be tied up for a couple of hours. He went on to explain that he’d arranged for another team to come over from Braemar; I knew that even with blues and twos it would take over an hour to make that journey in a Landy.
George returned and shook his head. This man had spent about the last 50 years glassing that hill. “There’s no sign, have you told them they’ll need a dog”. George explained that there is no track either up or down; it was over 20 years since he’d last been up there, the bracken was thick and very high, if he’s fallen we’ll never see him!
We spent what felt like an age supping tea and chomping on the best part of a packet of chocolate biscuits. George showed me the rifle that he’d owned for many years, a Parker Hale 243 used for the odd deer and fox. Eventually the telephone rang, it was Kenny from mountain rescue, the lads from Braemar were about 20 minutes away. I decided to go to the caravan to check and see if GG had sneaked in on the blindside. He couldn’t get into the caravan as it was locked and I had the only key. However, as I approached the caravan I spotted his boots on the decking. I banged on the annexe and shouted GG. I entered the annexe to see GG curled up in a sleeping bag on a bench.
“Oh you’re here are you”; “I’m here am I”; “I’ve got the F mountain rescue out looking for you” A long series of profanity followed. I quickly calmed down and returned to the farm house to call Kenny. He advised me to walk out of the door as the team were 200 meters away.
I introduced two of the team to GG who sheepishly gave them his details and answered a number of questions. They were happy that he was safe and well albeit a little cold. According to GG I panicked, according to the mountain rescue team I did the right thing. GG had gone out ill equipped, the weather was on the turn and they would have had a couple of hours of daylight to work in.
Following a brew or two GG made the peace by producing an excellent evening meal and super pudding. We went down to Charlies; he then took us to a Bothy that he now owns. As the farm where we have stayed has now been sold, it won’t be possible for us to stay there in future. Charlie has kindly offered us the use of his bothy. We entered the building to find it partially flooded and mould ridden, a water pipe had burst and had been running for a considerable time;we stopped the leak. Our hopes of superior accommodation were dashed in one blow. Charlie showed us around his newly acquired buildings and the pigeon that we would have shot had we arrived in a timely manner and suitably equipped. We dropped Charlie off at his home and said our final farewells, headed for base a brew and bed.
My feet hit the floor at precisely 7am. As I emerged from my room GG emerged from his. A quick breakfast and I started to load some gear onto the quad and load the Rangie; by 9:30 we were ready for off and made our way down the track for the final time. The sectional building which had lay in a field for decades had been erected at Georges replacement home and steading. We called in to say goodbye and thank you to George and his wife; we wished them well and set off around 9:45. I drove very slowly and kept glimpsing over my right shoulder, stopping occasionally remembering some of the very happy times that I’ve shared over many years. I wiped a small tear from my eye and concentrated on the journey home headed towards Stonehaven.
As is tradition we stopped at the filling station at Fiddes Bridge for Autogas, but try after try failed to produce any product. We made it to the filling station in Dundee without changeover to petrol. Also traditional is that the discussion for next years trip is commenced on the Forth road bridge.
Discussions included fitting out the bothy or buying a large touring caravan; however no final decision s have been made, although GG did declare that he’d climbed his last hill. “I’m too old and knackered for that game”
We arrived home around 5pm. We unloaded the Rangie and GG crossed the road to his home. I sat down on the chair in the hallway to change my shoes for the crocks that I’d forgot to take. As I slid the crocks out from under the chair, something stabbed me in my heel; no lollypops for guessing what it was? Those who guessed the aluminium pivot for the floater would be correct. We’d turfed the Rangie inside out looking for that part!
All’s well that ends well!
webber
