We recently sent one of our deadly-accurate-with-a-gun minions on a hunt. While we’re all about equality, we can’t get past the fact that she has lady parts, so let’s focus on that for just a sec. Girl + Gun + First Kill = America, Fuck Yeah! Honestly, we just wouldn’t care as much if this story were about a dude.
Now, we can borderline comprehend why Ricky Gervais has initiated such fuckery across the interwebs (cause he takes interest in hot huntresses too). But, we don’t give two shits about his emotionally fueled outrage, so it brought use even more joy that we sent Candice on her first hunt. #cherrypopped
Read on for Candice’s AAR.
WARNING: There are photos of dead animals hunted by hot women, proceed with caution
Cherry Popped: Part One of The Hunt
I went on a hunt with the intent to shoot and kill and animal. With the end goal of the hunt being the kill, I was successful. I’ve now come full circle because I used to be a vegetarian.
Little bit of backstory…
In 2008, I stumbled across an incognito PETA website. I thought I was clicking a link to learn about pigs (I love pot-bellied pigs), but it was a compilation about animals and what happens in some slaughterhouses. I didn’t like what I saw, so I quit eating meat. I could not support putting money into the pockets of meat industry stakeholders when such horrific things were happening to living creatures.
Fast forward to 2013: while visiting family in my hometown, I realized I missed eating Maryland crabs. I missed having Old Bay Seasoning covering my hands as it perfectly complements delicious crabmeat. I missed Maryland crab soup, shrimp scampi, and sushi. Fact was I liked all seafood. Seafood isn’t killed the same way that had originally caused my knee-jerk reaction to stop eating animals. This unexpected grasp on what truly bothered me was the beginning of a personal epiphany.
Over the course of another year, I began eating seafood again and deduced I was okay with eating meat as long as I was comfortable with the way it was killed (and could kill the animal the same way, if given the opportunity). I have continued to buy and prepare commercially-produced meat for family and friends, cause it’s unnecessary to let my own views affect others. The only time I have (and will consider) eating store-bought meat is when I’m a guest at someone else’s house. If a hostess has prepared a meal, I’ll eat what I can that doesn’t contain meat, but won’t be disrespectful by not eating what they’ve prepared.
When Breach-Bang-Clear asked me if I wanted to go on a hunt courtesy one of their generous sponsors, I was really freaking excited. My only concern was “What the heck am I supposed to wear?” After a trip to BassPro, I learned that head-to-toe Realtree for some reason reminds me of matching pajamas that I used to wear as a kid. I digress…
The four-day hunt was an all-female Prois event through Genesis Safaris at the breathtakingly beautiful 14,000 acres of 700 Springs Ranch in Texas. Eight women showed up to hunt turkeys, hogs, and several exotics.
I get easily bored and quickly learned that I do not like traditional turkey hunting, which we did every morning and evening. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep twice waiting for turkeys to appear. But my ever-vigilant hunting buddy Amy Coyne managed to have an exceptionally badass kill during the first evening turkey hunt.
Hunting in the high-fence area was more my speed. The abundance of land made spotting exotics difficult. When we saw a pair of Corsican Rams, I decided to take one. The guide and I got as close as possible and stalked the ram from about 300 yards to 80 yards. Having confidence in my shooting ability made taking the shot the easiest aspect of the kill. What raised my heart rate was prepping for the shot. Making sure I was quiet and did exactly what the guide instructed was my real worry.
My position was solid; I was standing and had the rifle resting on shooting sticks. The ram was in a clearing that sloped slightly downward from us. The guide said, “Ok, take the shot when you’re ready.” I didn’t take long. I went through the same process as I do in competitions before taking a calculated shot:
- Exhale, let the sights settle
- Ensure the sights are where I intend upon exhale
- Inhale again
- Prep the trigger, exhale
- Verify point of aim
- Press the trigger
It was a good shot through both lungs; the ram was dead by the time we ran up to him.
He was a handsome ram and I opted to memorialize this significant experience by getting him shoulder mounted. Another woman who drove to the ranch took most of the meat home. One of the guides said ram meat “tasted like piss”, but I can assure you that once processed into sausage it was excellent.
My one regret is not taking part in cleaning the ram. After I killed it, we went back to the lodge. It didn’t cross my mind to ask if I could stay with the guides and help clean it. Lesson learned.
Many of the other women were also successful. I had the pleasure of assisting Amy with shooting another Corsican Ram. She opted to use my rifle (which was a unicorn gun), because I knew the holds out to 400 yards. Her kill was more difficult: an uphill shot from about 200 yards. Amy quickly became acquainted with my rifle while I prepped and talked her through the shot.
Overall, my first hunting experience was amazing and it’s true that there is more to the story than just the hunt. I met some very accomplished women I’m privileged to now call friends. The guides were patient and knowledgeable. I’m already planning my next hunt, which will hopefully be an alligator hunt in Louisiana.
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About the Author:
Start your caviling and contravening because yes, Candice Horner is AFM. That is: Another Fucking Marine (we swear that if we put two or more of them in a room it becomes all Oorah-Chesty-Puller-Port Hole-Hathcock-Ladderwell, but fortunately we have a Klingon translator). A prior federal LEO and current Registered Nurse, Candice brings special skills to the table our current minions don’t, such as the ability to properly ensconce an IV after a long night of drinking (some of our minions are CLS trained, but that usually equates to missing the stick 14 times before giving up). Like any good Marine NCO, she can spit shine boots better than a seasoned fluffer can suck, roll sleeves tight enough to make a tourniquet envious, and yell loud enough to bring a grown man to tears. Candice is an enthusiastic hunter, outdoorsman (outdoorswoman?), writer (writress?), and accomplished competitive shooter.