If it was me I'd definitely invest in an automatic trimmer, though - I almost bought one for my last round and I only pulled about a P; couldn't imagine trying to hand trim anymore than that.
Now thats a good idea.
shit, i couldnt imagine trimming a P of herb!! the first time might be fun. but after that it would all be work. kinda like big game hunting. you enjoy every minute until you pull the trigger and the game is down. then you realize you have to drag that beast, cut him up, and do it quickly because the meat will rot soon. but then you cant wait to do it again once its all over with. humans really are dumb creatures!
LOL
Been there done that. Pops was a big game hunter so naturally I hunted as a child and have done my share of gutting and skinning. Hauling the dam thing back to camp, Cook the heart right away and hang the rest for a couple days then butcher the beast. Yea, it was a pain in the ass but we were right out there the next year doing it again. In my case it was mainly deer but pops hunted bear, moose, elk, caribou, big horn sheep the works. He got a world record size Caribou. He killed a Kodiak brown bear that was terrorizing a village, killed 12 other hunters that went after it. He put 11 shots in it with a 300 mag.
Here is a scaned photo from back then of the Caribou,
In the seventys there was a large Kodiak brown bear in Alaska that was terrorizing the natives. My dad had read about this bear. He followed storys about hunters that went after the bear only to be killed by it. There were eleven men, hunters, guides and one photographer that fell victim to this single bear. After examine the carcases of the dead men they realized the reason this bear was a killer. The bear had a broken tooth and had grown a custom to pain. When a hunter shot it, If the shot wasn't fatal it just pissed him off. Then the hunt turned around. It turns out the bear would duck for cover, sneak around behind, attack and kill the hunter.
It took him a couple years to save up the money and to find a guide who was willing to go after the bear.
He finally did.
There is a recorded story of the hunt in his journals however his second wife will not release them to us. From what I remember he was armed with a Bolt action Browning 300 mag. His guide had a shotgun with solid shells for protection. The terrain was of small mounds of frozen earth about six feet tall and 50 yards long. Several of them creating natural hiding places. I believe they call it The Tundra. He was guided to the general location of the bear, Spotted him about 150 yards away took a shot, hit the bear. The bear shook his coat like it was wet and looked in his direction. The guide ran. Then the bear disappeared into one of the small valleys. My father knew the bears strategies so he did the same thing. As he circled he spotted the bear again. He shot it again, the bear didn't seem to be hurt. It came at him. He thought since the first couple shots to the center of the bear didn't seem to affect him he would shoot his limbs and break the bones to slow him down. After all, he didn't want to be number thirteen. As they circled he took his shots. First the powerful forearms, then the rear legs, Believe it or not the bear kept circling to get a chance to attack. He found it, from about thirty yards away the bear surprised my dad and lunged at him. He took a heart shot, then ran a few yards and took another. The bear dropped face down in a small valley not 10 yards away. As he watched the bear from the top of the small hill for half an hour the bear didn't move. He had two shots left out of the twelve cartridges he carried and was not in any hurry. Finally he decided to get a closer look. He stepped down into the small valley towards the bear. All at once the bear raised from the ground and lunged bearing his teeth and claws. He stepped back and shot the bear again almost point blank. The bear went down again, this time with its head in a puddle of melted snow and he knew the bear had stopped breathing.
He did it. The bear was no more
.