Congratulations on your new love affair. 338 WinMag is a great cartridge for large game from elk to grizzly (not too many of either left there in CA, are there?). Just remember to shoot where the meat ain't. Don't worry about recoil too much, 338s aren't all that bad. And after all, you have a Personal Antirecoil Device on board that baby!!
And now, a story from the annals of history:
The year was 1979. My hunting buddies and I used to go to San Benito County, CA, to hunt blacktail deer every year. This year is different, however, because Big D shows up with his new Significant Other. No, not his girlfriend, we had seen her before. Something much more serious. He got a new Sako in 300 Win Mag.
Lots of deer that year, but they always seemed to be just going over the next rise or dropping down into the neighboring property. Finally, on Day 3, Big D throws caution to the wind and levels his new Weapon Of Choice at the giant coastal Blacktail deer standing at 150-ish yards, a nice 4-point buck, whose virility knew no ends, and that was maybe a whopping 120 lbs on the hoof. BOOOOOOM!!! thwack!!!!!!!!!! We all scrambled down to see the victim. There he lay, spined high above the rear ribs. His liver and entrails were poking out from the gap between his ribcage and lower spine. Big D was unfazed, he had his deer, mangled as it was, and he proudly bore him back to camp, where he was displayed and hung from the meat pole to cool. Next day, skinning time. As the hide came off the hindquarters, we got a look at the true meaning of devastation. The deer was bloodshot from the shoulders to the hocks, and part of the backstrap was missing. I am fairly sure Big D didn't get enough trimmed meat off of that deer to have a hamburger party after the hunt.
Oh, well, just the ramblings of an aging man, don't you yunguns pay no nevermind to me . . . .
And now, a story from the annals of history:
The year was 1979. My hunting buddies and I used to go to San Benito County, CA, to hunt blacktail deer every year. This year is different, however, because Big D shows up with his new Significant Other. No, not his girlfriend, we had seen her before. Something much more serious. He got a new Sako in 300 Win Mag.
Lots of deer that year, but they always seemed to be just going over the next rise or dropping down into the neighboring property. Finally, on Day 3, Big D throws caution to the wind and levels his new Weapon Of Choice at the giant coastal Blacktail deer standing at 150-ish yards, a nice 4-point buck, whose virility knew no ends, and that was maybe a whopping 120 lbs on the hoof. BOOOOOOM!!! thwack!!!!!!!!!! We all scrambled down to see the victim. There he lay, spined high above the rear ribs. His liver and entrails were poking out from the gap between his ribcage and lower spine. Big D was unfazed, he had his deer, mangled as it was, and he proudly bore him back to camp, where he was displayed and hung from the meat pole to cool. Next day, skinning time. As the hide came off the hindquarters, we got a look at the true meaning of devastation. The deer was bloodshot from the shoulders to the hocks, and part of the backstrap was missing. I am fairly sure Big D didn't get enough trimmed meat off of that deer to have a hamburger party after the hunt.
Oh, well, just the ramblings of an aging man, don't you yunguns pay no nevermind to me . . . .
