Is there such a thing as "off-season"? I suppose if you’re only after big game, then "yes". But why be that way? Arizona offers hunting year round.

Picture the northern part of this great state. There’s a job to be done! "Just make sure you do one thing: don’t miss ‘em"! Those were the rancher’s parting words to David, David’s brother Bob and me, after inviting us onto his land to hunt for prairie rats. We gladly accepted.

Isn’t it rather prairie rat shooting than hunting? Depends on how you look at it. To me, it’s hunting. Going after prairie rats certainly takes similar preparations. You’ve got to scout for them just as you should for any other species. Once you’re in the right territory, you’ve got to find them. Then, only then, do we have an option for a distinct difference. We indeed employ portable shooting tables, front and rear rests, muzzle brakes, ear protection, the works. But hey, you’re fixing to nail a rat, not some monster bull elk. Besides, nothing would stop anyone from using the same equipment and shooting positions commonly employed during a deer hunt, for instance. It’s just that the success rate will suffer, but it can and has been done.

Our usual day of varmint control begins by leaving the city at dark-thirty. We either drive to a spot we know to be rat infested, or scout around for new populations. Once we arrive, I point the Toyota into the sun, then unload all the junk to set up in the shade of the rear hatch, with a properly sized piece of cardboard in the window. This provides enough shade for one bench and hunter. Once set up, gun loaded and benched, varmints watch out! Comfortably resting in a lawn chair at the shooting bench, the eyeballs do all the work. Glassing the terrain is constant, always searching for another bottom feeder. Now we’re hunting, because this binocular work is intense, can go on for hours. And if you stay in one place for awhile, the close-up critters either perish or become educated. Then there’s a new challenge, finding a bottom feeder at distances that can exceed 500 yards.

A quick note on the guns we have employed: 14" Contender in .22 Hornet; .223 Remington, 20" light sporter barrel; .223 with 26" heavy varmint barrel; Ruger Varmint in 220 Swift; .22-250 (27.5" heavy!); 6mm Rem ADL; 6mm Rem Ackley (26" heavy varmint); 7mm TCU (26"). All these had powerful scopes of more than 10X. An old custom 1903 in .308 with medium 26" barrel, and a nicer-looking custom Enfield in .30-06 also drew first blood in our hands on pests. And then there’s a common Rem 700 BDL in .30-06 with 4X Leupold, and a well-seasoned Springfield ’06 with 3x9. Don’t laugh, because David and Glenn nail ‘em consistently within 200 yards, and when that 125gr Rem soft point encounters a rat, the critter simply D-E-T-O-N-A-T-E-S. The point here is that no special equipment is required. You already have a gun for this work, the one(s) you’re currently using.

A few practical observations: the Hornet was a "step off the road and pop one" tool. A .223 isn’t much fun past 200 yards. Even the 22-250 will struggle when the wind kicks up. If you want to see your bullet impacts, a muzzle brake is highly recommended. 6mm seems to be the best compromise, and a minimum caliber for shots beyond 400 steps.

What follows in this story are merely moments we enjoyed during our outings in the quest for pest control. They are from several outings, not in any kind of order, just the more memorable samples:

Glenn’s behind his .220 Swift, ready for the first rat of the day. I find one for him at about 300 paces. His shot shatters the cool, calm morning. The bullet kicks up dust, too high, too far left. Round number two goes too far right. Number three sheds the rodent of all fleas and ticks in one violent motion. We’re off to a good start.

Once a prairie rat is spotted, it goes something like this: "Got one! To the right of the brown bush, about 250 steps out, standing straight up! See him?" "Yeah, found him!" Several seconds of silence tick away, until a muzzle blast rocks the place. "Uh, just left! Shoot again, he’s still there, hurry up! Oh, he’s moving, going to the right of the mound, no, he’s down. No wait, he’s back up!" Another blast, dirt flying from the mound, a dust cloud drifting off with the wind. "Man, that was close! He went back into his hole. "You ready? Hurry, he’s up on the mound again, take him." Another blast, and this time the critter cartwheels off his perch, out of sight. "Solid hit!"

We switch positions. I discover one in the meager vegetation, feeding its fat face. A quick check for a reference mark near by, bare branches from a dead tree. Damn, the bench points differently. I get out of the chair, lift table, gun and all and line it up with the branches. Back behind the rifle, a quick search finds him in the 14x Leupold, still munching. He’s only about 130m out, so the crosshair settles right on him. A little more squeeze, some recoil, and the rat disappears. "I never saw that one, but it sure sounded like a good hit." That was Glenn’s approving comment. A minute later: "Got one for you, way out there, between the two large trees!" Here we go, I move the entire shooting table again, find the distant rodent in my scope, guess at the second mil-dot. First shot goes high and left. "He’s still up!" I correct for the next shot. "Just missed him on the left." I go a little more into the wind, and bingo, on the next shot he’s going airborne. "Oh yeah, you taught him how to fly."

"Far buddy" earned himself a nickname. He resides at a rather large mound in the middle of the meadow, a good 350 to 400 paces from our position. Mike was the first one to send lead his way. The dust cloud momentarily hides the rat, then he comes running out of it, circles and disappears in his hole. We find his kind elsewhere in the meadow.

A young dumb one freezes right behind the fence, barely 100 yards out. A solid ‘whack’ verifies the hit by the 6mm Ackley. I wound another vermin with my next shot. Mike finds the dust cloud, and quickly his 22-250 puts the nicked one down with a frontal hit.

"Far buddy is up again!" Seconds later another 22-250 whistles over the mound. The rat dives. We look for, and find more of his relatives, shoot them on sight. Then all is quiet for awhile. My binoculars sweep left to right. Suddenly the 22-250 barks again, immediately followed by yet another whack. I never saw any of it. Sometime later Far Buddy is out again. This time I try him with the 6 Ackley. The shot goes left into the mound. Far Buddy sprints below again. This game repeats itself throughout the day. Far Buddy wins. You go out there and nail that beast, because we ran out of ammo trying!

Glenn launches a real bullet out of his ’06. It comes in low, kicks up a ton of dirt, and the rat with it. Upon the hard landing, this rodent is all confused, and its belly probably aching from the sudden liftoff. Anyway, it hangs around long enough for Glenn to take him with a second chunk of lead.

Another fat varmint materializes on a mound out in the distance. I misjudge, the 6 AI throws two, no, three pounds of dirt in his face. He’s confused, paws at his head and seems to cough up soil, rather than take cover. I line up the scope again after my reload, only to see him get ripped by Mike’s bullet. Teamwork!

Mike’s .22-250 roars. I find the dust cloud through my scope, and the rat is getting outta there. As soon as the rodent pauses, I fire, miss. Rat’s moving on. Then Mike fires, misses. The rat doesn’t get a chance to catch its breath, having to haul its fat belly for some hundred yards. Finally the lights go out as the 100 grain Sierra makes it go airborne. This yellow tooth has cut its last strand of vegetation.

Mike finds a nest of young dumb ones. They are behind vegetation for me, so I can only hear the .223 go into action. Pow - whack. Reload. Pow - whack. Reload. Pow . . . whack. Reload. Pow . . . whack. In a few seconds they are wiped out.

Well, I could go on, but you get the idea. There is plenty of action, and each varmint presents a different challenge. I’ll close it out with a few extremes:

Mike’s shooting table. It’s like an M1 tank turret. Good thing he doesn’t shoot fast, or we might as well just watch.

Most shots fired in one location: both Mike and me with over 250 rounds each, in one day.

Most shots fired by one person in one day: 313. Who needs South Dakota?

Furthest confirmed kill: 535 yards. 6mm Rem Ackley, 100 gr Sierra. Walked way out there, found the dead rat, than laser-ranged back to the Toyota.

Furthest flight by a rat on impact: some 100 feet! Honest, ask Glenn. It was a little one, hunched down on its mound while facing me from about 40 yards, and the 75gr Plastic Tip out of a 6mm Rem ADL must have hit it just right. I had a similar hit just prior with a launching range of about 60 feet. Impressive overkill.