My experience with hunting rabbits in Mexico
Stand up on the back of 92 Dodge Ram Pickup with a 22 rifle in hand on 01: 30, in fields of Agave and alfalfa somewhere outside the city of Oaxaca, was something that I cannot when the grow up as middle-class residents of Toronto would have. But since I was Rabbit Hunt in South Central Mexico with Luis, Arturo, Don Victor and two of their local helpers.
“You better really warm, would dress with many layers and a hat and gloves, because it is really cold out there in the night, and donot forget your gun and hunting knife.” warned Luis earlier in the day. And he was right. When I at 03: 30 am the next morning after came home, I was still trembling, despite his advice pay attention. But it was with three rabbits in the bag, and the newfound friendships emblazoned by hunting, munching on snacks and a bit hanging around, all under the Moonlight otherwise pitch-black sky in the middle of Mexico’s nowhere, it was all worthwhile.
I go to Luis, where we expect Arturo. At about 21: 20 press the three of us into the cabin of the Arturo Dodge after you eat soft drinks and just enough mezcal us warm, to keep back in a cooler. At the end of the eight cylinder gas guzzler an open box for resting is equipped with a power supply for illuminating two portable high voltage lamps, firearms, and a two through-eight plank extending across its width for sitting on or leaning against.
By about 22 we are Don Victor in the town of Tlacolula, pick stocky 60 years-ish game hunters, who knows this better than the other ropes. He has already planned 2013 hunting a trip to British Columbia for the bear. “Your day to buy for about $2,000 and the designers worry about the rest,” he explains. For us, he is the leader of the Pack. He shows us his file with permits available, calls ammunition, two 22 s and a 16 gauge unlocked and relies on his thermals, vest, parka, and woolen hats of the Andes with ear flaps. I think that we are all set for the hunt.
We have to drive but his two comrades, Chacho, and Julio, and riding shotgun to collect. Born and raised in the District of Tlacolula, knows of any side roads of the area and landscape as I to know the rock shallows of Lake Simcoe. We horns on the doorstep of their homes, located in the nearby villages and finally head out. It goes to 23 Beverly this and Pinche, now these two guys know how it annoyed us up and laugh with her throaty singing Spanish intonation with ambiguity is widely used.
Chacho drives while Julio rides on the back with the four of us. Its task is the owner of one of the lamps and to shout, as soon as he sees movement in the brush. It is 23: 30, and I’m already colder than I thought that I would ever get. A second scarf is around my neck. In the course of the next it few hours gradually its way across my Chin would work, then mouth, and finally on the bridge of the nose. Certainly, Luis had exaggerating were I thought previously, with his southern Mexico blood ready to curdle when he first met with cool discomfort.
We head first to deeply potholed dirt roads winding between fields of alfalfa for cattle feed, Agave grown for mezcal production and grown corn for the production of tortillas, Mexican staple, especially at least in this part of the country. “What’s going on; Don Victor gets out, only ten minutes after he does not say she have left none for us “and Julio had begun, the powerful lamps lights up deep in the Felder.Don, Victor has Chacho turn off and drive between the furrows with Maguey, the local name for agave.” I thought it was bumpy before, but we are now plowed through hardened troughs of Earth track. Thankfully Luis Arturo know and to keep the barrels of their guns in the air, or pointed out directly in the fields. This is one thing that I know, it says. District it is rare that someone do anything teaching or course to learn to take.
Bang! With the first relief of the hunt, you will meet Arturo. Julio flits from the truck the rabbit called off. It has been taken in the rear quarter and is still wiggle out of Julio to free himself handle, so he gives it a quick rap on the head to get it done. It is small, but still a real gem. It is not as the regulations for catching the Smallmouth Bass in Canada and the United States.We follow as the temperature continues to fall. Now, despite my thermal socks and steel-less toe Greb Kodiak boots, it’s my feet. Switching we follow between the agave Circos, as they are known, then on another Street, and then on a way of jeopardized high grasses. With a 16 gauge Luis bags a much bigger hare than the first, which he had glimpsed hopping through the alfalfa. Three of us had spotted four at about the same time on both sides of the truck, but only Luis hit his target.
The lamps go out. Someone checks under the hood and learns that a cable had either burnt up or fallen down into the engine. “We’ll just have to get out my tools,” reasons Arturo. He asks me to open up a zippered canvas bag resting alongside one of the 22s, and pass him pliers and electric tape. Ten minutes later we’re on the road again.It’s now approaching 2 a.m., and with not much action talk soon turns to tortas, given that Luis had earlier been telling us how the crusty rolled sandwiches had been made with avocado and tomato, melted American and Oaxacan string cheese (quesillo), chicken and bacon. Twice we spot something moving, but they’re only skunks or possums. We quickly conclude that it must be time for a middle-of-the-night feast. Enough is enough. We stop in the middle of some patch of something, somewhere, jump down onto terra firma, and indulge. Don Victor’s talk of tall tales of bigger hunts enthralls. Chacho and Julio keep us in stitches.
This is an unforgettable hunting experience I will never forget.If you want to get more informations about hunting gear, you can View hunting gear.
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