Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Custom Rifles & Wildcats A friend and rifle remembered.

John was a life-long mentor and dear friend. He passed away two years ago, and I still miss him immensely. I met him in the fall of 1991, when he stopped to see his son (my roommate) at the University of Idaho. He was on his way back to his home state of Alaska, from his first, (and unsuccessful) guided Wyoming elk hunt.

We immediately hit it off. He stayed with us for a week, and kept us well stocked in pizza and Bud Light. He was a recently retired long-haul truck driver, and was old-school cool. He wore Levi 501s, long sleeve Pendleton shirts, cowboy boots, and a true "trucker" hat that read "Colt" every single day I knew him...save those days we shared in elk-camp.

He was not wealthy, and in fact drove the same 20-year old Ford truck and lived in a very modest home for the two decades we were friends. He loved fine rifles though, and had acquired several over the years. He had forgotten more about guns, loads, and hunting than I'll ever know, and I could see as much even at the ignorant age of 19. He would later show me a photo-album full of moose, caribou, and Dall sheep taken in the wilds of Alaska with no help from anyone except the pilot that ferried him to and from his favorite hunting grounds.

I invited him out the following fall to join us in elk-camp, where he shot an excellent 6x6 off of the Lochsa River. He was immensely proud of that bull, and had every reason to be considering it grossed over 300 was taken on an OTC, general season unit.

He brought down his two most beloved rifles with him that first year. One was a .338 Win, and the other a .280 Rem…both in pre-64 actions, beautiful stocks, custom barrels, and Jewel triggers. I would sit on the couch and work the action of those rifles for hours when he stayed with me/us, which more or less came to be an annual in the years that followed.

I have always favored stainless Remington 700s in lightweight platforms wearing McMillan stocks, which stood in stark contrast to the beautiful treasures he took afield. I admired how he actually hunted with his rifles though, unlike so many other beautiful wood and blued rifles I knew of that were left behind in safes. One of the last photos he sent me was of him kneeling beside a beautiful Dall sheep and his .280 laying across the animal at the ripe old age of 62 in some of the most rugged country I had ever seen. John was a badazz, and I am still in awe of how hard he hunted even at a relatively advanced age.

Ironically enough, his own son (Ben) was never really interested in hunting/guns, and rarely engaged in our discussions…though the two of them enjoyed a relationship that would make any father/son envious. Two days ago Ben contacted me to say he was coming through my hometown of Boise, and had something from his dad he was dropping off. I was completely and totally shocked to learn that John had willed he beloved .280 to me. It is literally the finest rifle I have ever laid my hands on, and working the action just now brought tears to my eyes as I remembered the many great times we shared over the years.

I know at least one of his guns was an Al Biesen built gun, but I can't for the life of me remember if this .280 was that particular gun or not. It doesn't really matter though, as it was John's gun and that's plenty for me.

I think when October rolls around this year, I'll make an exception to my own, favored .280, and take Johns rifle along instead. It scares me to death to drag the damn thing into the wilds of Idaho, but I know he wouldn't have it any other way. Forgive the chitty photos, but the rifle's beauty still comes through imho…