… for the day someone peruses my photo album and sees this one:
“Damn, that’s a big buck, AD!” they’ll exclaim.
“Oh yeah, that one,” I’ll shrug nonchalantly. “Yeah, he was pretty fair. Twenty-inch inside spread, about 300 pounds. Scored about 150 Boone and Crockett*.”
“Damn! Where’d ya bag him?”
“Hmm, let’s see,” I’ll muse. “That was Blogorado, 2009 or thereabouts, I reckon.”
“What didja bag him with?”
“Brought him down at a dead run, with a 318 Dakota,” I’ll say, without a hint of smugness, as if it were an everyday thing.
“318 Dakota? Is that anything like a .338 Lapua?”
“Sorta,” I’ll judge, “only a fair bit more powerful.”
“Wow! More powerful than a Lapua Magnum? What kinda ballistics does it have?”
“Varies quite a bit,” I’ll muse. “Depends upon the loading, but the best thing is, it’ll hold its velocity, like, forever*, dude. I took this one at 65, but get this, at 130, it hits, like, four friggin’ times as hard.“
“Sounds like a helluva wildcat cartridge!” they’ll say, impressed. “Lotsa knockdown power?”
“Yep,” I’ll nod sagely. “Hits like a fucking truck, dude.”
*If you set the cruise control.
Also on Ambulance Driver Files…
- On My Way Home, Folks… – November 11, 2009
