Varmints, like game animals, are where you find them. Just last week I found a
new and interesting varmint hunt – shooting beavers that cause destruction.
Don’t laugh – it was a lot of fun.
I shoot a lot at Kenny Bahr’s Voyageur Sportsman’s Paradise (218-283-2473) just
outside of International Falls, Minnesota. Besides the best range facilities
around, Kenny also runs a game bird operation, deer hunting, and some of the
better bear hunting (much better than Canada) that I have experienced. Kenny’s
place is drained by a series of ditches that often find favor with beavers,
which dam those ditches, usually by plugging a culvert. In no time, water
spills over onto the dirt road where it rapidly causes erosion. Normally, Kenny
and his brother Frankie (really a nice guy) take a backhoe and bust open the dam.
It is a real pain and does nothing, since the beavers usually have what they see
as damage repaired within 24 hours. Killing them is the only way to stop their
destructive ways. Complicating the problem for Kenny is that he cannot tolerate
trapping – even one client’s bird dog caught in trap is unacceptable.
With that in mind, Kenny called Dave Rorem, the local conservation officer, to
secure a permit to destroy the little rascals. Kenny gave me the nod to be the
shooter, and we had the whole thing approved by Dave. The plan was simple...I
figured since beavers always repair their destroyed dams, they would be quick to
repair any damage I inflicted on the dams.
The choice in weapons for this hunt was interesting. I looked in my game room...any
.22 caliber centerfire rifle was a bit much, since any shot would be at 25 yards
or less. I gave serious thought to using my short barreled .308; after all, it
is what I use for Minnesota black bears, and this situation looked awfully
similar to a Northwoods bear hunt. I gave even more thought to using my .416
Remington Magnum with 400 grain Hornady softpoints – perfect practice for my
Tanzanian double-header buffalo hunt that will be but a memory when these lines
see print. But in the end, I decided to take to handguns; they just seemed to
me to be the perfect match.
My one and only specialty pistol is a T/C Contender in .222 Remington. It wears
the same 2.5X extended eye relief scope it had when I bought it used at an
estate auction. It shoots Hornady 53 grain hollow points just under an inch at
100 yards. That gun was choice number one. I grabbed it and then cast a glance
to the east wall of my game room, where in between a Dall sheep and springbok
mount two pegs hold my Ruger Blackhawk .357 Magnum. I grabbed that gun, its
belt and holster replete with cartridges, and dashed out the door.
Ten minutes later, I pulled up to Kenny’s place. Being early July, the
temperature was warm, though not unbearable. I figured the mosquitoes would be
unbearable, so I doused myself with bug dope, pulled on my knee high rubber
boots and then reached for the .222. It was then that I realized I forgot to
grab the neat little MTM plastic cartridge box filled with those cute little
.222 cartridges. The .357 would have to do the job. I stripped six silver
cartridges from the loops on the belt, flicked open the loading gate on the
stubby-barreled Ruger, and thumbed in what I thought would be a cheap case of
lead poisoning for an eager beaver. I holstered the handgun and then grabbed a
shovel out of the bed of my pickup.
I walked down the packed dirt road until I came to a culvert. The ditch was to
my right. The beaver dam was obvious without looking – above the culvert the
water must have been a good 4 feet higher than that below. I attacked the dam
with my shovel...quickly, water poured through the culvert. Kenny and Frankie
had built a mound of debris from previous dam demolitions, and since the sun was
right, I jumped on top to await the beaver.
After a wait of 30 minutes, I decided I needed to open the dam a bit more. I
jumped down to the top of the culvert and dug up a couple of shovel-fulls of
thick greasy clay. That caused the water flow to roar through the culvert. I
took my place back on top of the debris mound.
In the next hour, I carefully indexed the water level in the pond – there was no
doubt it was going down. When the water level had fallen around 5 inches and
the sun was low in the west, I spotted a wave in the pond – sort of like a
miniature Jaws scene. The beaver was less than 10 yards away. I thumbed back
the hammer on the single action revolver and waited...seconds later a beaver’s
head popped above water -he was steadily paddling toward the breached dam. I
took careful aim at the beaver’s head with the pistol, then swung to match his
swim speed. I carefully crushed the trigger.
“Boom-splash”
Water erupted as the bullet tore into the beaver, which dove deep in the pool
but just as quickly flipped over went into its death throes. As he kicked
toward shore, I put another bullet into him for good measure. He quickly sunk
to the bottom about 2 feet from shore.
I grabbed the shovel and soon recovered what looked like a big wet prairie dog
with a huge flat tail. After some quick photos using the camera self-timer, I
took my post back on top of the debris pile, as Kenny had told me he has shot as
many as three beavers in one night. I waited perhaps 30 minutes when I spotted
movement 15 yards up the ditch. I moved that way, since it was a long shot
given the small target presented by the beavers (no more than ˝ of their head)
and the fact I was using an open sighted revolver. Not five minutes later, a
beaver emerged even closer than the first. My bullet put him down, but
unfortunately, he sank straight to the bottom. I acted as a sentry until the
evening faded into darkness, but no other beavers appeared. I packed it in and
headed back to the truck, a cold shower, an even colder beer, and a NY strip
grilled over hot coals.
Like any hunting, finding an area with animals is the big challenge. Game farms
are a natural place to look, since trapping is hazardous to bird dogs. Getting
permission to hunt these areas might be difficult however; you have to earn the
trust of the owner or caretaker. Other possibilities are farmers and loggers,
as well as the local conservation officer.
Beavers are large animals, so while plenty have been dispatched with a .22
rimfire, I wouldn’t recommend it. I think a .38 Special, .357 Magnum, or .45
ACP handgun is about perfect.
Look sportsfans, it isn’t sniping PDs at several hundred yards, and it isn’t the
same as calling in a coyote on a bitter winter day. But it is hunting, and does
offer an opportunity to “varmint hunt” for a species not normally hunted in a
country that does not offer a lot of varmints to begin with. A depredation
beaver permit may just help you avoid varmint hunter withdraw symptoms.
