It’s “varmint,” not “varmit.” There’s an “n.” As in V-A-R-M-I-N-T. If we must use ye oulde Englishe term for vermin we could at least spell it correctly. And while we’re at it, it’s muzzlebrake, not muzzlebreak.

You don’t need a muzzlebreak on your varmit rifle, you need a muzzlebrake on your varmint rifle. Actually you don’t, unless you consider the .460 Weatherby a varmint rifle, which I suppose you might ...

Panties In A Bunch?

Wow, says you, what’s got his knickers in a twist? Why so crabby? I’ll tell you. It’s early January as I write this. Big game seasons are over. And it’s cold. Winter came early and stayed. I was hunting whitetails in 30 below weather. Darn near froze my toes.

Every time I drive to town for the mail I see a coyote or two, some of them big and beautifully furred in their winter coats, but I’m so fed up with the bitter cold I refuse to hunt them.

Even range shooting has become work. Try accuracy testing when your trigger finger feels like a frozen salami stick. I hold my hand over a truck heater vent until feeling returns. Then I rush to load up and fire three or four shots before the fingers freeze again. A constant freeze/thaw cycle can’t be good. I’ve been googling “gangrene” on the Internet.

What sustains me in this time of trial? The thought of varmint season. Those perfect days of late spring and early summer. Crisp mornings and glorious sunrises, warm lazy afternoons, rolling pastures covered with vibrant green grass, crawling with gophers by the thousand. The rocky hills of Montana and Wyoming under a cloudless blue sky with gentle breezes blowing and rockchucks scurrying about.

I’ve lived in the West all my life so the classic groundhog shooting of the east is something I’ve only read about. Gophers, ground squirrels, prairie dogs, squeakies, picket pins, call them what you will, I’ve pecked away at ’em for more than 50 years, starting with homemade bows and arrows. I don’t live in prime rockchuck country but it’s within a day’s drive. Here are some of my favorite cartridges and firearms.

When I shoot squeakies with buddy Steve Kukowski our unwritten rule is shots under 50 yards are for handguns, usually a Ruger Mk II target model or an old S&W 41. If it feels like a revolver day I’ll use a prewar Colt Officer’s Model target or an early S&W K-22.

For stalking or practicing offhand shooting, or to keep the noise level down, I’ll select a .22 rifle, either the Anschutz sporter my dad gave me over 40-years ago, or the new Weatherby Mk XXII which is also built on an Anschutz barreled action. Both will shoot 1/4" groups at 50 yards.