Many years ago, before I started building my own muzzleloaders I owned a Tryon Trailblazer in .50 caliber. This is the only production gun I truly regret selling. I bought it to hunt with, and in that respect it served me very well.
The prettiest shot I ever made, was with this gun. It all began quite by accident. A childhood friend, and hunting buddy, worked for PG&E, as a meter reader. He called one evening, and told me he had seen some wild hog sign, while reading meters on some remote property, that bordered public land. The next morning was a Saturday, and we were in the woods at daybreak. Now I know all you guys in the N.W., and N.E., are going be rolling on the floor, but it was very cold for Northern California. The temperatures were in the mid teens, and being California boys, we didn't have the gear for this kind of hunting. The ground was frozen, and everything you stepped on sounded like breaking glass. We moved very slowly through an oak thicket, checking for sign, and were nearly frozen when we broke out into a small glade, warmed by the rising sun. It felt so good, that we decided to find a couple of spots in the sun, to sit and warm up, and watch for hogs. There was a slight breeze blowing down the canyon, so I nestled myself back in the scrub brush, to block the wind, and yet, enjoy the warm sunshine on my face. My buddy went on around the nose of the hill, and found himself a similar place about fifty yards from me.
I settled into my little nest, with my green flannel shirt, camo bibs, and old brown hat. I really hadn't been there more than a few minute, and still had my rifle draped across my knees, when the biggest coyote I've ever seen, stepped out of the brush ten feet away. He stared at me, more in curiosity than fear, and did that thing only owls, and coyotes, seem to be able to do. He slowly turned his body 180 degrees without moving his head, or taking his eyes off of me. My mind raced, but wasn't nearly fast enough to outfox mister coyote. I hadn't moved a hair, but, in a flash, he was gone.
My first thought was that he had never truly figured out what he saw, and would need another look. I know all you hunters have done the old "be the deer, or whatever the game is thing" and it rarely works. But this time it did. I looked around, and tried to figure out where Mr. coyote could get a good look at me, without worrying about me seeing him. The rising sun was cresting a low ridge about a hundred yards away, and was like watching someone arc welding. I realized that if mr. coyote put the sun behind him I would likely never see him. I brought my knees up, and rested the gun on them, and began trying to get a sight picture. A cupped hand over the rear sight gave me just enough shade to see the sights. A moment later I saw the tips of two very erect ears break the skyline. I set the triggers, and made a mental plan to let my partner know what the game was as soon as the shot was fired. Knowing I was going to have to shoot a minimal amount of exposed coyote, I decided to shoot as soon as his head cleared the ridge. As his nose crested to ridge, I touched the trigger. The old Tryon roared, and I screamed COYOTE!!! I watched carefully, but nothing ran out of the draw. I jumped up, and started toward the ridge. My partner yelled for me to reload. I yelled back, that if I hit any part of what I was shooting at, I wouldn't need to reload. Mr. coyote was at the bottom of the ridge. The ball entered the inside edge of his right eye, and exited under his left ear. I pulled a nylon, and velcro, gun sling out of my hunting pouch, and with it slung the coyote over my shoulder. My hunting buddy, asked why I was taking the coyote with me. I said to tan the hide. He asked why? I said that since I was almost fifty years old, this was probably the only coyote I would ever shoot in the eye with a muzzleloader. And, I was correct. I still have the old moth eaten hide, although the Tryon is long gone.
