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“The Warming of the Guns” has taken place every September for nearly 25 years. We’re unapologetic sticklers for tradition, so it’s no surprise that the list of attendees hasn’t changed much since its inception.

At least one other person (besides the shooter) must witness a clay breaking for it to qualify as a “hit.” This stipulation has officially become known as the “Boom Rule.”

“The Warming of the Guns” has taken place every September for nearly 25 years. We’re unapologetic sticklers for tradition, so it’s no surprise that the list of attendees hasn’t changed much since its inception.

At least one other person (besides the shooter) must witness a clay breaking for it to qualify as a “hit.” This stipulation has officially become known as the “Boom Rule.”

September teeters upon the fulcrum of summer and fall. Some days, hot weather seems to hover in place like a fog, as if it intends on staying forever. Then one day the earth exhales a sigh of relief, and a cool north breeze sweeps the humidity away, ushering in the signature, scudded clouds of autumn.

With another bird season waiting in the wings, September weekends find me at the loading bench, churning out shotgun shells for the busy months ahead. My single-stage MEC reloader only cranks out a few boxes per hour, but considering the cost of ammo these days, it’s economical enough. And besides, reloading is one of those mindless tasks that allows ample opportunities for daydreaming, perfect with a cup of coffee and old-time jazz music playing in the background.

Ka-chunk, goes the spring-loaded charging handle — six times to fully reload a shell. Pulling the lever once de-primes the empty plastic hull, and a second tug inserts a fresh primer. Next, a measure of gunpowder drops into the shell’s base, followed by a plastic wad-cup and nearly an ounce of lead shot. The last stations crimp and seal the shell, completing the process.

Like fall, shotshells are pregnant with potential. Could these unassuming, Crayola marker-sized cylinders really take a double on grouse this season? Will they reward a puppy’s first woodcock point? Might they afford a final retrieve for an old dog’s last venture afield? Only time will tell, but each shiny red shell represents a memory in the making.

Autumn is a season worth celebrating. The Brits have their “Glorious Twelfth” to ring in the partridge season, and our group has a similar approach for heralding in the hunting season on this side of the pond. It’s a tradition we’ve dubbed, “The Warming of the Guns,” and it has taken place every September for nearly 25 years.

We’re unapologetic sticklers for tradition, so it’s no surprise that the list of attendees hasn’t changed much since its inception.

Our original intention was limbering up for the approaching bird season, although camaraderie has proven even more valuable than practice.

On the appointed day, we gather at a local gun club for a full day of sporting clays. The atmosphere sizzles with excitement. Newly acquired guns get trotted out for inspection, and excitable discussion spans a wide range of topics, from projected bird numbers, to far flung wingshooting destinations.

Before heading out to the course, we smoke a pipe in honor of the writers, mentors, and friends who have gone before. Of course, ordinary corncobs couldn’t suffice for such a solemn occasion. On this momentous day we smoke London briars that once belonged to Gene Hill, one of the greatest outdoor writers of all time. Hill preferred Edgeworth, an everyman’s tobacco blend he affectionately referred to as, “Old Brush Smoke.” Edgeworth isn’t made any more, but fortunately, we bought a large tin years ago and reserve it for this ceremonious event.

Like most enduring traditions, a dogmatic list of bylaws has developed over time for this event, and although a qualified gunsmith can bend a shotgun stock to improve the fit, no one can bend the long-established rules at The Warming of the Guns.

After the shooting is over the guns have been safely cased, we uncork a bottle of approachable bourbon and offer a toast to the victor. Then it’s on to supper and cigars.

Therein lies quite another affair, with an evening full of merriment to kick off the season. Hours pass and conversation meanders between guns and ideal choke constrictions, to bourbon and cigars, to memories of old dogs and antics in the field.

Were it not for jobs, families, and social responsibilities, this gathering might linger long into the wee hours of morning, but as the sun drops beneath the horizon, we wrap things up with full bellies and even fuller hearts.

We’re not alone in all this pomp and circumstance. Sportsmen have always been keen on tradition. September is in full swing. The swamp maples are turning purple, and the sumacs have begun blushing a vibrant shade of crimson. Ripe apples hang heavy in the orchards, and there’s a smoky tang in the cool night air. Frost on the pumpkin isn’t far away, and soon the snow will fly, so don’t let an ounce of autumn’s potential slip away.

As a co-conspirator in The Lost Branch Sportsman’s Club, Jon Osborn can be reached at lostbranchsportsmansclub@gmail.com.

Chokes and Payloads for Early Season Shooting

The jungles of early autumn are a stark contrast from the bare November days encountered later in the season. With full foliage clinging to the trees, shots are bound to be close, which makes it easy to either miss, or reduce birds to a cloud of feathers. A hard-won meal of wild game is too tasty to ruin by centering a grouse or woodcock at 10 yards. Fortunately, there are a few ways to mitigate this issue.

Open chokes, such as cylinder and skeet I, throw wide, sparse patterns. My early season gun is a light little 28-gauge double, choked skeet I and skeet II. It’s not a great late-season option, but it’s deadly in September and early October. Screw-in chokes offer even more versatility, although I’d suggest sticking with widest possible tubes this time of year.

Reducing shot-payload also helps keep birds intact. Reloaders know that each gauge has a range of shot that can be loaded into a shell. For example, the standard 20-gauge load is 7/8 oz., but it’s possible to stuff that little yellow hull with as much as 1 ¼ oz. of shot. It’s a clear case of, “you could,” but “why on earth would you?” Having fired a few of those punishing magnums, let me tell you, it’s more than you need on either end of the gun!

My buddy Steener sticks with a 16 gauge double all year long, but his early season shotshell recipe only calls for ¾ oz. of shot. Another benefit of such a light load is the minimal recoil. Whatever your preferred gauge, load the minimum shot volume in early season.

If you don’t reload your own shells, buy inexpensive “gun club” loads, such as Remington “Game Loads.” There’s nothing special about them, but they’re cheap, and at the extreme close ranges encountered in early season, you’ll never notice the benefits of extra-hard, buffered shot or high-tech wads, anyway.

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