Heck, I was shooting a .22 rifle before I ever owned a bb gun.
Ditto.
Heck, I was shooting a .22 rifle before I ever owned a bb gun.
I can not say the same. My first "hunting" trip was with my dad and 2 of his friends all carrying shotguns. And me carrying my BB gun as I wasn't even big enough to carry a shotgun.Ditto.
Not me.Heck, I was shooting a .22 rifle before I ever owned a bb gun.
I remember lusting after that stuff in the catalogs, but we couldn't afford it.
But, I did get a Daisy RR at 6; and a Remington bolt action .22 at 9.
Actually bagged my share of doves for the pot with the RR (stood under a low hanging tree limb, and picked them off with the BB gun as they landed on the electric line to roost above).
Before the PC take offense ... it was anything that would put meat on the table in those days, when food was still being rationed after WWII.
I hope there's none of them on here. (PC's)
Each of us boys got a 12 ga. when we turned 10. My older brother and I got Winchester Model 12's. My little brother got a double barrel 12 ga. We put them across the handlebars of our bicycles and headed out hunting. Like you said, anything to help put food on the table. Nobody ever said a word about 3 boys riding across town with shotguns over their handlebars. We weren't the only ones. Of course, we grew up with unsecured guns propped up next to the fireplace.I remember lusting after that stuff in the catalogs, but we couldn't afford it.
But, I did get a Daisy RR at 6; and a Remington bolt action .22 at 9.
Actually bagged my share of doves for the pot with the RR (stood under a low hanging tree limb, and picked them off with the BB gun as they landed on the electric line to roost above).
Before the PC take offense ... it was anything that would put meat on the table in those days, when food was still being rationed after WWII.
Each of us boys got a 12 ga. when we turned 10. My older brother and I got Winchester Model 12's. My little brother got a double barrel 12 ga. We put them across the handlebars of our bicycles and headed out hunting. Like you said, anything to help put food on the table. Nobody ever said a word about 3 boys riding across town with shotguns over their handlebars. We weren't the only ones. Of course, we grew up with unsecured guns propped up next to the fireplace.
EDC?Pony Boy cap pistol with matching holster was the only way to go. You could fan that hammer and make that puppy smoke!
Those were good times. Our high school was at the far edge of our town. Most boys who had cars also had a shotgun in the trunk or back seat, me included. In 20 minutes we could be hunting.Somewhere on here is a recollection/anecdote about me riding my buckskin mare, Nancy Hanks, to school during dove season, carrying my game bag and 20ga Remington Model 11 so I could go straight to hunting when the bell rang.
Try that today ...
Those were good times. Our high school was at the far edge of our town. Most boys who had cars also had a shotgun in the trunk or back seat, me included. In 20 minutes we could be hunting.
Today - a few years back my granddaughter got in big trouble because someone reported that she had shotgun shells in her car. Yes she did. She had been hunting the weekend before and inadvertently left a few shells under the seat.
Yes it does. I take comfort in the fact that my granddaughter is a successful business woman that feels more comfortable with a rifle in her arms than a bouquet of flowers. Dating doctors and lawyers that have never been outside the city limits just doesn't work for her.Ain't that a crying shame!?
Reinforces my feeling here lately that I've lived too damned long ...