A Squirrel Test With .224 50 Grain Varmint Grenades
Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 9:04 am
WARNING: GRAPHIC IMAGES AND INSENSITIVE POLITICALLY INCORRECT CONTENT!
I became so enamored of the .204 Ruger that my .224 rifles sat languishing in the safe. I had worked up loads for the 36 grain Varmint Grenade in the .223 Remington, but still wanted to know how the 50 grain version would work in the .22-250 and .220 Swift. Only one way to find out - go forth and massacre. Problem is that old Wrangler John is a bit crippled up, so he made himself a portable shooting bench that doubles as a cart to carry all his stuff. Yes, there are cool benches and stands available, but Wrangler is proportioned like the Michelin Man, and if just a wee bit more massive he would collapse into a black hole. So he built his own "special needs" cart/bench, patterned after a "Big Wheel" rescue stretcher used by CDF Fire (that way they have something on hand to wheel his carcass out to the ambulance). Its perfectly balanced so's not to require any effort to hold up while pushing or pulling. It has three legs that are stored underneath the bench top, the rear leg allows it to be used like a wheelbarrow.
The Craftsman wheeled toolbox contains all the cleaning and repair parts including every scope mount screw known to man, tools, ammo, electrolytes and drinks, a rear bag, a digital camera and doubles as a sturdy seat that allows shifting position. The cart can be used with or without the wheels, they come off with two safety pins. I wheeled it across the squirrel tilled ground and setup under a spreading oak tree to escape the 94 degree sun. Setup took less than 2 minutes.
Because of the heat most squirrels were staying down, but a few made the suicidal move to perch on stumps or logs. The Remington 40X had been rebarreled by PacNor with a 1:10 twist just for the 50 grain Varmint Grenade. I introduced the squirrels to my receipt of 31.9 grains of Benchmark and a Winchester LR primer that propels them along at 3619 fps. They loved it! In fact they became so excited they fell to pieces like Patsy Klein at a Chip and Dale show. Each squeeze of the Jewel trigger revealed what they were made of, no x-ray needed. I asked the first squirrel for a review, but he didn't have much to say. He was probably trying to flip me the bird when his front paw became disconnected only to land 3 or 4 inches away.
Squirrel number two met an unfortunate end after having an aerial accident while attempting to perform a back flip. He spent some time coming down with a somewhat bedraggled appearance.
Squirrel number three almost won the "Biological Paint" award, for completely disappearing into an airborne froth, but lost because part of his head and rib cage remained. The yellow arrow points to an ear for reference. Several more squirrels met their demise, but they were too far away to bother walking to, but the ravens and magpies gathered in little clusters revealing their change of state from living to crow bait.
The old Wrangler packed up because a herd of range cattle were grazing a bit too close, and moved a mile or two east.
I had hunted this area in late May reducing the population by about twenty or so. The action was slower, but after four O'clock they began to peek out. The shots were good out to about 175 yards, every one a kill. Some squirrels were disconnected from their central nervous system resulting in a performance of the cha-chas. While doing the cha-chas they could be heard to sing those old favorites, "Flippity Flop to the Butcher Shop," "Has Anybody Here Seen My Brain," and that old blues tune, "Someone Gave Me a Lead Enema and Now I'm Oh So Empty," that squirrel was hit back to front with the following result.
All in all the 50 grain .224 Varmint Grenade proved accurate and reliable. I packed up for home well satisfied with my ability to teach dance to squirrels, they really caught on to the cha-cha.
I became so enamored of the .204 Ruger that my .224 rifles sat languishing in the safe. I had worked up loads for the 36 grain Varmint Grenade in the .223 Remington, but still wanted to know how the 50 grain version would work in the .22-250 and .220 Swift. Only one way to find out - go forth and massacre. Problem is that old Wrangler John is a bit crippled up, so he made himself a portable shooting bench that doubles as a cart to carry all his stuff. Yes, there are cool benches and stands available, but Wrangler is proportioned like the Michelin Man, and if just a wee bit more massive he would collapse into a black hole. So he built his own "special needs" cart/bench, patterned after a "Big Wheel" rescue stretcher used by CDF Fire (that way they have something on hand to wheel his carcass out to the ambulance). Its perfectly balanced so's not to require any effort to hold up while pushing or pulling. It has three legs that are stored underneath the bench top, the rear leg allows it to be used like a wheelbarrow.
The Craftsman wheeled toolbox contains all the cleaning and repair parts including every scope mount screw known to man, tools, ammo, electrolytes and drinks, a rear bag, a digital camera and doubles as a sturdy seat that allows shifting position. The cart can be used with or without the wheels, they come off with two safety pins. I wheeled it across the squirrel tilled ground and setup under a spreading oak tree to escape the 94 degree sun. Setup took less than 2 minutes.
Because of the heat most squirrels were staying down, but a few made the suicidal move to perch on stumps or logs. The Remington 40X had been rebarreled by PacNor with a 1:10 twist just for the 50 grain Varmint Grenade. I introduced the squirrels to my receipt of 31.9 grains of Benchmark and a Winchester LR primer that propels them along at 3619 fps. They loved it! In fact they became so excited they fell to pieces like Patsy Klein at a Chip and Dale show. Each squeeze of the Jewel trigger revealed what they were made of, no x-ray needed. I asked the first squirrel for a review, but he didn't have much to say. He was probably trying to flip me the bird when his front paw became disconnected only to land 3 or 4 inches away.
Squirrel number two met an unfortunate end after having an aerial accident while attempting to perform a back flip. He spent some time coming down with a somewhat bedraggled appearance.
Squirrel number three almost won the "Biological Paint" award, for completely disappearing into an airborne froth, but lost because part of his head and rib cage remained. The yellow arrow points to an ear for reference. Several more squirrels met their demise, but they were too far away to bother walking to, but the ravens and magpies gathered in little clusters revealing their change of state from living to crow bait.
The old Wrangler packed up because a herd of range cattle were grazing a bit too close, and moved a mile or two east.
I had hunted this area in late May reducing the population by about twenty or so. The action was slower, but after four O'clock they began to peek out. The shots were good out to about 175 yards, every one a kill. Some squirrels were disconnected from their central nervous system resulting in a performance of the cha-chas. While doing the cha-chas they could be heard to sing those old favorites, "Flippity Flop to the Butcher Shop," "Has Anybody Here Seen My Brain," and that old blues tune, "Someone Gave Me a Lead Enema and Now I'm Oh So Empty," that squirrel was hit back to front with the following result.
All in all the 50 grain .224 Varmint Grenade proved accurate and reliable. I packed up for home well satisfied with my ability to teach dance to squirrels, they really caught on to the cha-cha.
Gary