By Glen Wunderlich

The wait is over.  Hunting season has arrived and brings with it renewed anticipation of wild game encounters to come.  For some, it means loading up a dog or two and heading to the north woods for upland game.  Busting the brush for woodcock, before they depart along their migration routes, or bumping a few thunder chickens are time-honored traditions that signal the unofficial start of the season.  Some even work a bit of stream trout fishing into the mix before September’s final day halts the action.  For me, it’s bushytails in the tall mast trees.

Unlike other game that can only be found in the upper stretches of Michigan, squirrels are everywhere.  This under-utilized renewable resource can be a challenge to bag and offers some fine table fare, as long as the cook understands that preparing them cannot be rushed – much like the pursuit of them in the big woods.  Oh, I realize they can be startled to flee by strolling along a trail and blasted from their perches with shotguns, but I gave up on that method decades ago.  Since then, I’ve learned a few tricks and have completely avoided the nuisance of biting down on hardened scattergun pellets, which is about as nutritional and pleasant as fish bones. 

One experiment involved an untrained beagle-dachshund mix, a squirrel whistle, and a long length of string.  The plan was to coax a bushytail into the open by responding to the alarm whistle of my mouth-blown call and some impromptu commotion.  The little dog, which was relatively well-mannered, stayed at my side, while I tied the string to a bush.  We’d then sneak off to hide some 30 yards away and just sit quietly.  After a good while, my plan was to yank furiously on the string, blow the whistle, and drop the first inquisitive squirrel that would show itself. 

I wasn’t sure how the little dog was to fit in, but I was about to find out; it was time for the ruse.  I sounded the alarm, repeatedly pulled on the cord and the bush came to life.  But, so did my four-legged accomplice, as he scurried to that bush in full attack mode!  Lesson learned.  Although squirrels love nuts, acting like one can give them the last laugh.

Since then, the pursuit of squirrels has been a more solitary activity and is more of an opportunity to be one with nature and to enjoy the solitude of the forest.  While a shotgun can utterly disturb the peace, the diminutive .22 rimfire makes no more sound than a breaking twig – that is, if sub-sonic ammo is used.

I’ve become obsessed with accuracy over the years and I don’t mind the extra expense of quality rimfire ammo.  Lapua Center X works flawlessly and its quality is more than adequate to satisfy my passion for perfection – a catch phrase of the Lapua brand.  The sub-sonic nature of the cartridge allows a shooter to remain hidden after a shot and to minimize disturbance to the immediate area.  In fact, I’ve taken numerous squirrels from a single sitting position and even added a fawn-killing coyote to a morning’s take after doing so.  Of course, a good rifle with clear optics doesn’t hurt, either.

Red squirrels taken with a Ruger 10/22 topped with a Nikon scope

Maybe the excitement’s about just getting out there for another season of surprises; I really don’t know.  But, what I do know is that feeling has returned to me again.