I nearly had my teeth kicked in by a Mossberg when I was hunting ducks in Georgia. I was hunting with a Benelli, but a friend of mine had his Moss 500. I had never shot one, and so I wanted to give it a try. I guess I was really used to my hunting shotgun, and in my enthusiasm I didn’t take the ’s recoil into account too well. It blew me back, let me tell you. And it hit my cheekbone like a son of a bitch. An inch or two to the left, and my teeth would have been knocked out for sure. Well, as you may be able to tell that was a dumbass move on my part. Thankfully, it wasn’t my last one of the day.
Back at the camp, I wanted to make some eggs, so I poured some oil into the frying pan and went to the fire which was blazing nearby. Or so I thought. What I had poured inside of the frying pan was vinegar, not oil, but I was so frikkin cold that I could not take the time to smell anything or do anything. My mind was on the eggs, only on the eggs, and nothing but the eggs.
I cooked the eggs over an open fire, and only when I sat down to chow did my friend ask what the hell I was doing. Eggs, I say. He takes a whiff of my plate and turns his nose violently. Long story short, I threw out the eggs. Good thing nobody else wanted any eggs, or we would have none left. I ate a BLT sandwich instead. Safer, I guess, right?
Eating a sandwich by the open fire on a cold December morning in the woods. This is part of what makes hunting trips so great. I only get to go on them twice or thrice a year. It is always a special occasion, and it is one which – for me – truly opens up the holiday season. Whenever I am back in those woods, and I look up at the gray morning clouds coming in from the east – well, it does something to me. It gets me in the right mindset. That is why every trip I have taken recently has been a successful one as far as I am concerned. It is not about the gun, or the game, or the zillion other things which may make up a hunting trip. It is simply taking the time to be with friends and family for a bit, in a more secluded kind of location, away from the mainstream, day-to-day hassles. Out in the woods we have our own hassles, to be sure, but they are our hassles. Ones which we choose and commit to, you know?
Later that day, I actually shot that Moss 500 again, and was happier about the results that time. Hey, don’t judge me, I had never fired that weapon. Yeah, it was still pretty stupid of me. Ah, well. Remember recoil, kids! For more great content check out Gunivore.com.