I’m of the school an apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.

My Dad was both an excellent rifle shot as he was a hunter. Back in the 1950-60’s you almost had to reload your own ammunition to get the level of precision that he required.

He taught me how to shoot and reload, passed on the reloading books for all the little details like correct powder burn rate & bullet weights

I think he was slightly disappointed I chose the .270 Winchester as my my primary hunting caliber over his 30-06 Springfield. He said I was corrupted by that O’Conner fellow…..😂

How about you?

41

My father was always a hunter and still is. He is also an exceptional shot and has been reloading since the late 60’s early 70’s.

Dad was a very good shot, although he only owned one gun, a ,22 LR single shot. He didn't have time to hunt. I got my desire to hunt, shoot and reload from my Mom's brothers.

Neither, learned on my own.

My dad told of hunting pheasants & jackrabbits when he was a boy but never owned a gun that I knew of when I was growing up. He worked part time as a security guard when I was very young and remember a revolver on top of an upright piano, an issued weapon, not his own I imagine.
I was crazy about hunting and guns as far back as I can remember, family friends would give me Outdoor Life and Sports Afield magazines that I read over and over. I wish I still had those old classic issues.
Learned how to shoot and hunt from friends and classmates. I remember skipping school during study hall to shoot gophers on those glorious first days of spring.
I had to buy my own guns and my dad and I never hunted or target shot together.

i learned mostly on my own to reload but i have shot a lot since i was 10 years old ,my father mostly was just a deer hunted. my uncles all hunted a lot . got ammo cheap because uncles and friends worked at Federal Cartridge so i got lots of free ammo and lots of seconds too.

Father was a shooter, but not a hunter after the war. Never reloaded .

Neither but he was a good dad. He knew I got bitten by the fishing and hunting bug hard. Always got me a subscription to outdoor life. I'd walk out into the country knocking on farmer's doors asking permission to hunt (this was before I could drive), then when seasons would open, I would either walk out to my hunting spots or he would drop me off before my hunts and pick me up after I was done for the day. Pretty much a lifetime of DIY

My father was not a shooter but did enjoy rabbit and squirrel hunting. Deer were really not available when he was young and, actually, were pretty rare until the ‘70s and ‘80s. I’m not sure where I got the shooting bug as none of my relatives were into guns and shooting but as far back as I can remember, I was always interested in guns.

My dad wasnt much of a hunter, had a few guns,but didnt shoot much.
He was the one that got me into guns ,shooting ,and hunting at the age of around 10 . Bought me a Shooters Bible ,and started buying gun magazines for me.
He did do some bird hunting, mostly quail and pheasant. I went with him a couple times after quail, before I was old enough to hunt . He was a really crappy shot ! He said he couldnt shoot a deer, but he loved venison, and was excited whenever I got one .

My Father only hunted pheasant on Sherman Island in NorCal and stopped when I was born. He used an Ithaca M37.

My dad was a PO, so he did pistol and shotgun recertification once a year at the police range. We would save up mayonnaise jars and take them out to sink them in Uncle Ed and Aunt Myrt's pond once we got a grocery bag full. I wouldn't want to ever wade in that pond. We used an old .38 he brought back from Japan. He gave the pistol to a boat captain in Murrell's Inlet to shoot sharks.

This thread reminds me how fortunate I was, Dad took us hunting for whatever was in season, we took 3 week vacations every other year, usually to NW Wyoming, the Beartooth Wilderness area. I probably caught more fish by the time I was 12 than most folks in their lifetime. Game processor? Pfft, we cut & wrapped everything we brought home.

Pops was reloading long before it was popular, he loaded for a bunch of friends on his Herters equipment (not a fan of 'em but it worked for him).

At 70 Dad & Mom bought a house in northern Wyo, he tore it down and built a 3K SF house on the Tongue River, back then there were lots of P-dogs, I gave him a heavy barrelled .222 Rem and I got it from his collection. The throat has some serious erosion, I call that a win, he loved that gun enough to wear out the barrel.

Dad was a killer of deer and elk. But he was no marksman, nor was he a reloader. His Rem 760 in 30-06 was fed a steady diet of W-W 150 sp for deer and W-W 180 Silvertips for elk. He would have fit well with any crowd of Pennsylvania machine gunners. But he kept the freezer full.

I branched into an entirely new direction with demands for precision, tuning my rifles, and building my own ammo.

My dad was a great shooter and hunter. He carried a Husqvarna 1640 in 30.06 for deer and elk, he reloaded for a short time in the sixties but never taught me how. He was also an avid pheasant hunter and carried an old A5. I've still got both of those guns.

My dad Like'd to dove hunt, pheasant and deer hunt; all on opening weekend. He didn't much care for hunting if it wasn't opening weekend. He didn't shoot much either.

My dad was a reloader and competitive shooter. His dad was a reloader and competitive shooter. My mother, her father, and her grandfather were all hunters, out of necessity. I recall going with Mom, when I was about 8 years old, as she shot grouse (Northern BC, 1957). GD

My earliest memories would involve policing up AA target hulls after a round of trap with Dad. Later we'd reload them, with me handing him components and whatnot. This would have been '74-'75, age about five for me. I've his reloading gear now, as he's perfectly happy to shoot the reloads I'm quite content to provide for him.

Dad never did get over the fact that I carried a Ruger #1 elk hunting.

Nor did he go for my buddy's damned fast 270 or worse my Ruger tang safety 25-06. Never mind that it would easily break each of a dozen eggs at 100 yds. The bullets were so damned fast, they just penciled through with no time to expand.

Same
but did learn from good friends

Hank

My father hunted small game, deer and waterfowl, all with his 16 gauge 37 Ithaca, later a Remington 58. As I got older he pretty much just duck hunted with his younger friend who would become my father in law.) He never owned a CF rifle, but had a Remington 521-T that he was an excellent shot with. Also, his only handgun was a High Standard G-380 which he seldom shot. He never reloaded.

Dad was a trap shooter. He had competed at Vandalia and had a bunch of trophies. He occasionally did trips to a pheasant farm. That was about it.

Mom's Dad was the hunter. He'd grown up on a farm and enjoyed squirrel and pheasant. He did a lot of fishing and shooting with his father-in-law. When Great-Grandpa got too old to go anymore, Gramps gave it up.

By the time I was in grade school, it was all over. Frankly, I did not think about firearms and hunting until I was out of college.

Dad was one heck of a deer hunter. Only thing he reloaded was shotgun shells

My dad was a handgunner, reloader, caster....shot a couple times a week for over 50 yrs.

My dad was a good shot. Rifle, Handgun, and shotgun. He could shoot MOA offhand. Kill a limit of doves with less than a box of shells and shoot treed coons out of treetops with a pistol. He never reloaded but was a hunter. He took me to hunt and fishing for everything available to us or arranged for me to go do it with someone that knew how.

Coming from a pioneer family (settled Calif in 1847) , hunting was part of life. My dad as well as both grandfathers were ardent hunters and gun nuts. Dad traded his M1 for a Springfield as soon as he set foot in Europe during WWII since he didn't like those newfangled Garands. He started reloading in the 50's and hunted until his eyes started going bad (just like his father).

My father was a handloader/reloader as long as I can remember. I probably wasn't long out of diapers when he'd let me pull the handle on his shotgun reloading press.
He's an accomplished trapshooter, rifleman and hunter so it was a logical progression for me - though I'm a lousy trapshooter and never answered that calling.

My father did both. He started shooting when he was a kid, then started NRA Service Rifle in ROTC the 1950s. I remember him shooting an M-1, then an M-14, then an M-16 courtesy of the National Guard. He also shot bullseye pistol. After he retired he started into Palma and F-Class. He shot on the national team for several years, including matches in Canada, England, and Australia. He also set nations records for his age group until he was in his late 70s.

Reloading and hunting were a part of growing up for me.


Okie John

MY father was a hunter. He killed all his deer, which were quite a few, with a Marlin 94 in 38-40. I never knew him to have bought more that two boxes of ammo for it (50 in a box). When he passed there was almost a full box left.

For small game, we were allotted 6 rounds of shotgun ammo. Limit was four rabbits and two pheasants. We had best come home with either the limit or an equal amount of unused ammo.

In my early twenties a mentor schooled me on reloading.

My Dad was an avid hunter, small game and deer, and always pushed beyond the easy. He had wanderlust, always needed to see what was on the other side of the hill - and never needed coaxing to go hunting. As for being a good shot, not so much. He missed a lot of birds with his 16 gauge Savage-Stevens 311 double (with Tenite stock) which he bought new before I was born and clung tenaciously to for the rest of his life, which ended when he was young - only 59 in 1990. I still have that gun, which I thoroughly dislike but it's a "cold dead hands gun" to me. I patterned it once and the bugger shoots waaaay low (weird comb height and generally ill fitting/balanced - not one of Savage's better ideas) - bingo, mystery of Pop's poor wing shooting skills solved.

Rifles - a pretty decent shot. Pistols - well, don't ever ask him to cover you in a gunfight. Gangstas in Baltimore are better shots with pistols than he was.

I'm the one who talked him into handloading, for selfish reasons when I was a teenager, but he took to it with gusto. He was a tool&die maker so quickly started using his skills to augment our equipment. For example, he designed and built a nifty simple case trimmer which I still have and use for oddball stuff that isn't covered by LE Wilson for their trimmer which is my primary. At the time of his death he was working on a self made press, modeled on the C-H multi station H-press. I finished it years later and gave it to one of my nephews who itched to get into handloading and wanted some of his grand dad's tools. (Working in the tool room at the Mack Truck Engine/Transmission plant in our home town in Hagerstown, MD gave him lots of opportunity to "make stuff on the company's dime". "Government work," he called it.)

NO. He was a fisherman.

Unfortunately No.

My father, like a lot of men of his age here in Montana, grew up on a homestead during the Great Depression. Both he and his brother did a lot of subsistence hunting, as did my grandmother. She was an excellent shot--used a pump .22 rifle to wingshoot birds--and an avid hunter, also taking big game from pronghorns to elk.

My father never was much of a hunter when he grew up and got a decent-paying job, but he liked to shoot, mostly plinking with his Colt .22 revolver and a single-shot .22 rifle. He killed a couple of deer after I started hunting, but was in poor health by then and couldn't hike much. He never handloaded.

I started handloading at 12, mostly on my own though with a little help from one of my dad's buddies. Used the old Lee Loader hand tools for both rifle and shotgun ammo, partly because my handloading was funded by my paper route, and they were very "affordable."

Dad knew guns a little and was a fair shot. But he didn’t have a passion for it. He hunted some as a young man but didn’t keep up with it after buying the farm and starting a family.

I don’t know where my interest came from but as long as I can remember I’ve been passionate about hunting, trapping, shooting and reloading.

Dad did teach my brother and I to shoot and allowed us as much freedom to hunt and trap as he could considering we had dairy farm chores to tend to daily.

We did join the rifle team in high school and I credit that and a hundred thousand BBs for making me the phenomenal rifleman I am today. 😁

Dad kept me well stocked in BBs and turned me loose on the hoard of English sparrows that infested our barn. Starlings were a target as well but it took some precise placement to make a kill. I wish I had kept track of how many English sparrows I killed but it had be several hundred. They were prolific back then.

Dad hunted deer mostly - if it had "horns" it was fair game. He had two rifles, a 1962 Winchester 70 in 30/06 and a Winchester 70 in 7 Mag. He did not reload but passed on the outdoors and hunting that by the time I was 18, I had more rifles and handguns than he had (most of which he gave me as Christmas or Birthday gifts).

I didn't get into reloading until my late 20's but it was his influence that led to it. He's gone now, but hunts with me every season when I take out that old 30/06 or 7 Mag.

My father was only interested in duck hunting until his 50's when he did some deer hunting. He never reloaded. In later years we didn't get along but I am thankful that he bought me my first gun when I was 12 and he took me along on some of his duck hunts. Between that and Outdoor Life I became interested in shooting and hunting for my entire life until health interfered a few years ago. I began reloading in my early 20's. At first myself and two friends shared equipment for a year or so and then we branched out and bought our own equipment.

My introduction to hunting is probably the only fond memory I have of my father.

Jim

Lucky to grow up in SD, but never shot a pheasant in my home county until I was in my 20's. Deuel Co isn't a pheasant hotspot even now, and certainly wasn't then. It was in the 40's and 50's tho. There were no deer hunts until the late 60's; by the 80's we were overrun with them. We always had waterfowl tho. Lots of lakes and potholes, and so we fished alot as well for walleyes and perch mainly.

Given that, my grandfather was a hunter, and his father was as well. My dad was and so am I. We had three duck boats when I was in HS, and we had over 100 decoys, and for a while we had a fixed duck blind that we put out in a bay of a local lake. Lots of near death experiences looking back. Dark cold water, overloaded underpowered boats, yikes. But we shot alot of ducks and geese. We would go west from CL to find pheasants a few times a year. My dad was a much better shot with a rifle than I am; he was good with a shotgun also but I don't think he could beat me with one very often. My grandpa didn't hunt anything but birds and I have no idea how he was with rifles.

We had a Pacific shotgun shell set up for 12 ga and we loaded our own in AA and RXP hulls. About the time I left home, he got into metallic reloading as well. I don't load shotgun shells; if I figure my time is worth something, which it is, I can't see the advantage. I shoot very little factory rifle ammo tho.

Dad was a reloader, shooter and hunter. Started loading with him when I was 14. The deer rifle he gave me for Christmas was a Ruger tanger 7x57, which was in 1983 and basically still is a handloading only cartridge.

my dad was a fine pistol shot. but i could out-shotgun him by the time i was 11. my maternal grandfather was a fine shotgunner into his early 70s.

My father hunted mule deer and pheasants regularly with his brother and other family members in NE Oregon, in the area where he grew up. He was a good shot and killed many deer, but was not particularly interested in guns. For him, guns were simply a tool to be used in hunting and he didn't reload. He also liked to fish and be in the outdoors.

However, he got me started hunting deer at age 12, and I'm still hunting and shooting more than 60 years later.

No…..other than a little fishing, my Dad knew nothing but work!

I was a total “gun nut” and hunting nut probably since birth. I was about 7 or 8 yo and watched my uncle and a couple of his cousins hand loading for a trip to Wyoming…..I was immediately “hooked”!

I bought my first centerfire at 14 (Win. Model 88 in .308 Win) and almost immediately started loading with the old Lee Loader! memtb

I have no idea, saw him once when I was in 5th or 6th grade. Step corksucker didn’t do anything but make us work. If we stopped he hit us, great times back then! You all that had good Dads were very, very lucky.

The old man was an avid hunter...but he was quite sure, as many were in the '50's, that reloads would blow up and kill you or at the very least shoot your eye out. Unfortunately, I went to school in the town that was home to Lassen College Gunsmithing, and was bitten by the bug at an early age, probably more serious shooters/handloaders per capita around there than Injuns at Custer's demise.

Hanco, I do consider myself lucky….while my Dad was a “workaholic”, he did nothing to detract from my hunting/shooting desires! memtb

Grandpa & Grandma homesteaded here in 1900, Dad was born a few years later. He talked about shooting and hunting he and his brothers did when they were kids and when he was older before he married Mom. But I think the challenges of providing for the family during the Depression and Dust Bowl erased any thoughts of hunting from his mind. That said, he taught me to shoot and do it safely when I was very young and never discouraged my hunting/shooting although I 'm sure he thought it was a waste of time and money. Later I think he mellowed on that, as we talked about my "adventures."

My dad hunted and even shot BB guns and the .22 in the yard a ton with me. I never knew him to reload, but cleaning out my mom’s old house a couple Mo the ago before I sold the place for her. I found Lee .243 reloading dies up in a utility closet. I don’t know if he ever used them, but his only center fire rifle was a .243.

My family were all hunting guides, for Mule Deer,Pronghorn, Elk, Bear, Mountain lion, they did a couple big horn hunts every year, all my Uncles were Loaders as was my Grandfather,and my Grandmother was hell on wheels with her 30-30, my Mother was a very good shot. i guess you could say i was raised with guns and hunting. Rio7

My dad owned and still does, a nice sporterized vz24 in 7mm Mauser. Box of 20 usually lasts 4 or 5 years.

He’s killed a lot of deer and elk with that rifle.
He also has a Browning.22 pistol for grouse and a Remington model 34 .22 for ground squirrels and other vermin. He never handloaded.

My maternal grandpa actually got me into shooting and reloading. He grew up in the depression. He never hunted or fished and hated wild game and fish. But loved to shoot. He would load up boxes and boxes of pistol and rifle ammo and we would go “plinking “ as he called it. Lots of great memories.

He never did load for accuracy. Every load he ever made was the middle of the road load out of his Speer manual. Always Speer bullets too.

My dad was passionate about stillhunting deer, as well as chasing rabbits and pheasants. Other than that, he didn't shoot all year, once those seasons closed. The same held true for Grandpa. Aside from them checking and sighting their rifles a few weeks before the opener at their deer camp/club, I don't think I've ever seen either one spending time at the range

Dad only owned a 5 diamond 760 pump in 300 Sav and a 336RC in 35 Rem for deer hunting, and an Ithaca 37 16ga for everything else. Gramps had a 5 diamond 760 in 35 Rem and a Rem M11 12ga. I have them all now, except Gramp's shotgun. My older brother has that one.

As for reloading, neither of my two elders partook. I started on my own in '76, when I was 20.

Like most my grandfather got me in to hunting at a very early age, he passed when I was 12. My dad tried, but he was not a hunter or shooter, but I had the bug since I was old enough to think about shooting. At 15 I bought a Savage 340 in .222 from a neighbor who was quite a shooter and reloader. It grew from there. My neighbor was also a Camp Perry shooter. He got me into indoor matches before I went off to college. Being in the rifle team kept me in school plus a very cute gal in the cafeteria..

Dad and I shot a lot together. We had an evening set aside when we went to an indoor range in Columbus, Ohio and shot .22’s. I ran thru the NRA Junior Marksman program while he shot his Ruger MK I

When I got bigger, we would go to local trap club one evening a week. That’s what started the reloading which later morphed into loading for CF rifle and pistol.

We did a little hunting together including several trips to Northern Ontario after spring black bear. I started reloading rifle ammunition then as we wanted to use premium bullets.

After I was out of the house, he shot at Camp Perry and on weekends shot combat pistol.

I am forever grateful for the guidance and starting my interest into a lifelong hobby, or passion as my wife would call it.

Dad fought in WW2, after that, he wasn't into hunting. Before the war , he said he hunted. "Deer that ran with cattle tasted best. " But he loved fishing. Much more of an outdoorsman. I'm of the if I want to eat 'em, I'll have to shoot them first, I guess. I like working on old rifles, it's much much cheaper than old cars.More pleasant, too. Reloading brings out the scientist in me.

My father was an excellent shooter he was for a time the President of our Skeet and trap club and developed their sporting clay range/layout.

He had all of the reloading equipment for shooting 410, 20, 28, and 12 gauge, but I did most of the reloaded after school.

He was also the best shot on ducks and geese that I ever witnessed in the field.

Not a reloader, and had stopped hunting and shooting until I came along and was interested. Took me to the dump to learn to shoot .22 RF. We went every Sunday after church for a long time and shot one of the 25-round "Chiklet" packs of Remington shorts that don't exist anymore. Taught me to shoot .410 by throwing ears of corn for me. Took me rabbit and pheasant hunting. When I was old enough to hunt on my own, he quit once again. I picked up reloading/handloading on my own.

my dad was a hunter/fisher when the work was done, except deer season, then he was avid hunter. he was exceptional shooting pheasants and grouse. rabbits tho, they were safe. he couldn't hit a rabbit if his life depended on it. he had a Remington m760 in '06, Remington m572 in 22LR and a Mossberg m500 in 12 ga until he got to reloading. he only fished for trout, but he would let them go (i'd be catch/releaser too). i have alot of memories of my dad being hunting and fishing.

he shot open sights till his eyes said no more of that, use the scope, dang it!!! he had a custom 6' Ultralite fiberglass fishing rod that was made in 1970s. the "feel" you got was unbelievable. he loved that rod, even when he smashed it on the back of the truck cab. he got teary eyed when he did that. the last 6" of the fishing rod or so was cut/smashed off when he lowed truck cab window. we'd looked around everywhere (even the "danged interweb-type thingy" lol!!!) "you couldn't fix fiberglass, but if you send me X-amout of dollars i'll send you a 6' Ultralite carbon fishing rod. " says the custom rod makers. i got him a 6' St Croix Ultralite rod and while it wasn't the same, he liked it. (later, he took the fiberglass rod to my friend who fixed it and it is now buried with my dad).

my dad was my "first" student on handloading. (i've done 6 or 7 "students" and i was mentored by my gunsmith (RIP) on handloading) it's a good thing i did, he must went thru 800-900 rounds on his first TC Contender in 7x30 Waters (14" muzzle brake barrel) that summer. man, could he shoot. i have alot of memories left.

Dad did neither, so was on my own learning about those. But, he was a very top shelf machinist - helped me with firearm projects and helped me learn a bunch about machine work.

I turned to old rifles when I could no longer afford the hobby of old cars

My dad owned a pump .22 and a pump 12 ga. He shot a few rabbits and occasionally went pheasant hunting, though I don’t recall him ever killing a pheasant. I and my brothers are avid hunters/shooters and we learned on our own. And we reload.

My father wasn't much of a hunter or shooter. He went deer hunting maybe 3 or 4 times in his life, owned a Rem 700 in .270 Win., and killed only one deer as I recall. He did have a .38 snubbie for his work but I only saw it a couple of times and never saw him shoot it.
When my brother and I got old enough he bought a .22 rifle and took us out occasionally to shoot it. Dad did enjoy fishing and we went on frequent trips doing that.
My maternal grandfather was an avid hunter, fisherman, and outdoorsman and had the biggest impact on my choosing to follow those pursuits.
In junior high and high school I read every outdoor magazine I could get my hands on in the school libraries; Outdoor Life, Field & Stream, Sports Afield, Argosy, etc. and couldn't wait to be able to start buying guns, and going shooting and hunting.
None of my relatives were reloaders; I picked that up on my own while working the gun counter in a sporting goods store part time and spending pretty much all I made on guns, and reloading stuff in the late '70's.

My father made time to be outdoors with us. He was 35 when I was born so by the time I was hunting he was ready for help. He made sure hunting and fishing was a priority. He was not a precision reloader or a long practiced shooter but a good shot . When he retired he worked as a cook in the bighorn mountains in an elk camp and his ashes are there for eternity

Dad was a hell of a shot on running deer with his 870 and a smoothbore slug barrel. Maybe memory plays tricks over time but, I remember one almost unbelievable shot - and him just smiling at me after the shot like, "Yes, son, that is how it's done." My mom killed a buck when she was pregnant with me. I'm looking at his little spike rack on my wall right now. She gave my dad a Belgian BAR in 30 06 for a wedding present. Mom's pretty cool. Dad didn't handload but, my mom's dad did and he had me down in the basement loading for the sporterized small-ring Mauser in "7mm Mauser" that he gave me when I was 12 or 13. I don't handload now but, I'm slowly gathering the necessaries and building up to it. Lots of memories of hunting with dad and both grandfathers - upland, ducks, turkeys and deer mostly. Mom stopped hunting before I started. I'm one of the lucky ones.

None of the above!!

My dad was and is a hunter. When I was small he loved to bass fish and we went all the time. He and his brothers loaded Peters Blue Magic 12ga hulls in anticipation for dove and quail season and all three kept a setter if not two.

He had me shooting a 22 before I was old enough for kindergarten and ground sluicing doves with a cut down Stevens 410 by kindergarten. Sat beside me as I shot my first buck in the 4th grade, first turkey the following spring as he and one of his brothers called a big Tom into range of the single shot 20ga I’d graduated to by then.

Started taking me out of state to chase pheasants by the time I was 8, nearly froze to death every trip and didn’t actually kill one until my 3rd year but I was always raring to go with “the guys” no matter how bad the forecast was.

Let me go to the mountains on the annual pilgrimage to elk/mule deer camp at 13 but the dirty jokes and the way beer tasted were to stay in the mountains or else! Neither of us got much hunting done that first year, me worried about getting lost and him worried about losing me.

Other than shotshells he wasn’t really a loader. He’d buy a box of bullets he liked the look of from a magazine ad and go load them at a good friend’s house. He did buy me a Lee Loader second hand at an estate sale when I was 12 or 13 and let me get some bullets and powder to load 38s I’d then get to shoot out of his 4” M19 S&W. I really picked up loading for rifles and pistols when my best friend’s dad got him a Rockchucker kit for Christmas one year and gave us a crash course with the admonishment to only load what was in the book.

When I really got the shooting bug at about 12 he made certain I had 22 shells. If I wasn’t in trouble I got a 550rd Winchester value pack per week as allowance. I never had any left by the end of the week and song birds and varmints were scarce within a mile or so of the house. Ended up that the whole family kind of got into it and my uncle made a bunch of steel targets he put up out at the cabin. Every Sunday evening we’d all get together for a picnic and afterwards we’d shoot, sisters, brothers, grandparents, pretty much all of us.

Dad still doesn’t miss a day of rifle season out in the hills and lives for the year he draws a mule deer tag. But it has to be a pretty dang big buck before he’ll drop the hammer on him. I don’t know that he’ll shoot another elk, never really been big into elk hunting but has killed a bunch over the years for the freezer and to have something to hunt on no deer tag years. I don’t think he’s as mad at them as he once was. Still a dang good shotgunner, I can’t remember seeing him need a whole box to kill a 15 dove limit but we don’t seem to get the birds migrating through like they used too.

In all I had an outstanding childhood egged on and nurtured in my outdoor pursuits by the whole family. It was great and I’m trying my best to duplicate it for my son.

My Father was a expert rifleman, USMC 1937 thru 1947, and an avid 'chuck hunter, but only casually interested in shooting game. He figured that hunter/gatherers had evolved centuries before and was happy to have a local farmer raise a couple of castrated Holstein bull calves every year. He did go to deer camp every year up until around 1975 when his WW2 buddies were starting to drop out. He and Bearrr264's Father were lucky hunters, in that both of them killed multiple bucks over 200 lbs. that got them Maine Big Buck Club patches. The Tarawa Crew, all WW2 USMC vets, set up their deer camp on Sunday Pond in northwestern Maine from around 1950 until around 1975.

My Father was more interested in his pre-'64 Winchester 70 collection than anything else. When he heard from his friends in the gun business that Winchester was going to change the Model 70, he took a month or so of vacation and traveled all over 10 state in the northeast buying up all of the NIB, excellent used, and uncommon Model 70s that he could find. I remember how pissed that my Mother was when the dining room and parlor were stacked full of guns for months in late 1963 and early 1964.

What is a "5 diamond" 760? I'm not familiar with the term.

Jim

My dad was neither a shooter, reloader or hunter but lucky for me my uncle was a deer hunter. As soon as he took me to his deer camp I was hooked. A few of the men at camp were gun dealers and it seemed like everyone was glad to offer me some sort of advice. My parents saw that my new hobby was keeping me out of trouble for the most part and they bought me a Marlin 336 in 30-30 from the local farm supply store for $88. Soon afterward I got my pistol permit and my first purchase was a brand new Colt Python for $459 at the original Dick's Sporting Goods in Binghamton. I learned mostly through trial and error. I didn't start reloading until about 30 years later. Looking at my gun collection and reloading supplies I can now say that I have too much of everything, and I owe it all to my Uncle Hank who took a dumb kid to deer camp.

The 5 diamonds refers to the checkering on the forearm of the 760 BDLs made before the early 1960s. The standard grade 760 ADLs had vertical grooves, often referred to as the "corn cob" style, on the forearm.

I have no proof my father ever fired a gun of any kind.

kwg

My Dad did some hunting in his 20's. Then he sold his guns. Ended up working with some guys in his mid 30's that hunted fox. He got a 243 as he figured if he ever went deer hunting he could use it for deer. He went deer hunting once when he was in his early 40's. When he was about 50 my brother got a job in a South Dakota. He knew a lady from high school that lived on a ranch out there and wrote to her if she knew of anywhere my brother could hunt. She and her husband had moved to town but her son still lived on the home place. It worked out good as my brother and I have hunted out there now for over 30 years. My Dad went out with us about a half dozen time. He enjoyed hunting but seems like life kept him busy. My brother got me hunting with him and I started reloading with Ruffcutt.

My Dad didn't hunt or shoot. He cut his hand nearly off when my brothers and I were very young and as a result had no feeling in it and diminished control of it... It wasn't that he didn't know how to shoot. He said he's shot everything from his shotgun before WW2 to the issued 1911's and the deck guns on his Destroyer Escort. He just couldn't shoot. He knew that we had a huge interest in hunting and saw to it that we had access to a place to shoot and hunt. He joined a hunting club his friends were in just so that he could take us hunting and we could learn from people that he knew well. I can't fault him for how he handled the situation and hope I did as well with my sons.

I have never seen my dad shoot or fish, he golfs. A friends dad used to take me hunting or fishing trips a few times when we where in high school. I loved it. I am very thankful for him taking me.

Dad was a passionate pheasant hunter. He really liked hunting deer, pronghorn, coyotes, shooting gophers and prairie dogs, but he LOVED hunting pheasants. He loaded his own rifle, pistol, and shotgun rounds since well before I was born. I was allowed to start helping when I was strong enough to "double-thumb" primers into cases with a Lee Auto-Prime.

Summer I turned 12 I was on the youth trap league. Dad traveled every week for work. Left on Tuesday am and home late Thurs afternoon like clockwork. The deal was, I had to have the lawn mowed and 100 rounds of trap shells loaded (50 for each of us) by the time he got home Thursday or I didn't get to go. We both shot Rem 1100's. So, I had to size the AA hulls with a single-stage Mec sizer then load them back up with a Lee Load All. Dad's hunting buddy had 2 boys about my age and the 3 of us would sit on the reloading room floor counting 25 #4-buck pellets into "Sandhill Crane" shells when lead was still legal for them then we'd hand them back to one of the dads for crimping. When I got to high-school dad's neighbor bought a progressive PW and we'd get a whole season's worth of shotgun shells knocked out on a winter a weekend.

Started loading rifle ammo on a Rockchucker. My job was to de-prime/re-size/trim brass so it was ready to load. Again, I'd spend winter days doing that so stuff was ready when it was time. Sometime in Jr High dad got a Dillon 550 and that sped up the re-fill process quite a bit.

I know factory rifle ammo is good these days but I still "feel" like I'm using an inferior product when I get lazy and shoot factory. I don't mind shooting factory shotgun ammo but I do have a Dillon SL900 I'll sit down @ for 2-3 cold winter weekends every 2-3 years and get several season's worth of target ammo loaded up.

I still do things a lot like he did. I have lots of brass prepped/components bought and ready to load, but, I don't actually have tons of loaded ammo. I change my mind too often when new stuff is introduced. I usually keep a pretty fair number of 223's loaded with 50 V-max and 55 soft-points loaded for short notice high-volume days but other than that it's pretty rare that I have more than 100 or so loaded up for any other specific rifle.

Dad was a fine shot, both with a shotgun and rifle. Coyotes was his passion well before anyone was hunting them. Through a co-worker whom got him interested in coyotes he eventually reloaded for rifle, pistol and shotgun. I was in my teens when Dad taught me to reload my TC Contender for days in the field first practicing on paper and jack rabbits and then calling coyotes.

When I was a kid,Dad hunted small game, birds and deer on a regular basis. We shot a lot of BB’s and 22’s over the years. Dad liked to deer hunt and was still going out at age 88 although it mostly involved taking the cab tractor out and sitting at the edge of a farm field. He never reloaded but turned me over to a cousin who did when I was about 15. He shot my handloads in his deer rifle but we always bought our shot shells. Dad definitely lit the hunting fire, the cousins at camp helped fan it.

Dale

Shooter.

Not reloader.

Well...he could reload a M48 Tank.

My Dad ( a gunners mate) was also on a DE……USS Hurst , DE 250. Two years in the North Atlantic on Convoy Duty, then finished out the War in the South Pacific. He was part of many landing parties hitting small islands checking for any Japanese activity…..radio stations, ect. memtb

My old man was an excellent shot. He'd won prizes in competition with rifle and pistol, and was an excellent wing shot too. In fact he could wingshoot ducks with a .22, and in a more innocent time did it in front of witnesses more than once. He shot effortlessly, a real natural.

He was interested in military small arms, as he was interested in other military technology like fighter planes and tanks. He wasn't really all that interested in sporting arms, other than that they functioned reliably and shot accurately. I remember when I was a kid he would impulse buy rifles, mostly .22s, and if they didn't shoot well or gave any hint of trouble he'd give them away. As a result there was a bit of a procession of them. There were a few that stayed on, including my grandfather's 20 ga double, a Marlin 1893 that I now own, the Brno Model 1 he gave me, and an SMLE. He gave me my first rifle when I was 10, and was happy enough to smile and nod at the appropriate moment at the gunshop when I started buying my own from about the age of 14.

He never liked scope sights - didn't feel the need for them and didn't trust them. He also had no interest in reloading, but had no issue with me setting up in the back shed to reload my own when I was about 14.

He had gradually lost much interest in hunting though, by the time I was really getting into it, so my early hunting was mostly done with my grandfather, or an adult cousin, or by myself. About the only hunting trip I remember with him was on a friend's place after pigs.

No. All my screw-ups are mine.

My dad was a child of the depression so there was no money for things like guns and no time to take off from work for things like hunting, so he never took it up till later in life. He did realize my love for hunting and shooting which I inherited from my maternal grandfather, and nurtured it. He occasionally went small game hunting with friends when I was young and allowed me to tag along. When I was old enough to hunt he went along until I was old enough to hunt by myself. At that point I was basically on my own, although he always encouraged me to continue. He bought me all of my first guns and always supplied ammo for me to practice and hunt. He mentioned many times that hunting/shooting was a good "hobby" for me to pursue. He never shot a deer, that I know of since his only gun was a Mossburg 500 shotgun, which he used for everything. Slugs were good enough, according to him, but I absolutely know he never shot at a target to determine where the slugs were going. He also hated he cold and so sitting waiting for a deer to come by was a no go! He did push the first deer I ever shot to me for which I was eternally grateful. He saw it, never shot at it, and watched it move my direction when it spooked. He was al smiles when he heard the shots and came walking up to me and my prize.

The old man started Me reloading with Him at age of 10 by the time I was 12 I was doing it on My own. On My twelfth birthday. He pulled out two rifles a Model 20 Savage and a Model 99 EG both in 250 Savage told Me to pick the one I wanted for My first rifle I took the 99 and have enjoyed hunting and shooting and most of all reloading. I ended up with both rifles and still have them today.

My reloading story is a bit unique. I was introduced to reloading by my uncle. He was one of the first, in 1958, to purchase a first production Wby MK V chambered in 257 Wby. He purchased the dies directly from Mr. Weatherby. The gun shipped in to Houston at Glen Slade's Gun Shop. My uncle showed me the way it all worked at age 12 after my father died in 1970. By age 15 I purchased my first reload press and began loading for my father's 38 Special. Been loading since & have always cherished the memory of my uncle taking the time to show me the ropes.

Most of the patriarchy in my family were sportsmen and none ever invited me along save that one uncle. I was the black sheep of the family......that's a story for another time.

My dad was a pretty good shot but not a "shooter" when he was young (as we'd call them a "shooter" today.) He grew up in the Depression and shot small game and some deer to feed himself and the family. That was in the 1930s He went to war in 42 and got home in December of 46. After the war he bought a Winchester pump 22, and was given a Savage 99 as a wedding gift in 52. When I was a young boy those were the only 2 guns in the home. They were simply called "the 22" and the "deer rifle" or sometimes "the 300".

I got into reloading when I was 12 years old and I was the one that taught my dad to do it. I started with the 270 and we added the 300 Savage after that. A few years later I was also loading 45 Colt , 44 mag and 12 gauge.

Once I was in my mid teens and all through my 20s and 30s my dad became a shooter of 22s but not much larger.
He and I would shoot brick after brick of 22s especially after I got out of the Marines, but even in my time in the USMC I'd do a lot of shooing with my dad when I'd come home on leaves.

We did burn a LOT of 22s. We'd buy 22 LR ammo from Sears, Western Auto and Coast to Coast Hardware by the pallet load. 5000 per case, 8 cases per layer and 4 layers tall. The largest purchase we ever made was 5 pallets and we sold just short of 3 of them to friends and buddies, but he and I shot up 2 + a little more of those 5 pallet loads from that purchase. 160,000 rounds per pallet.
Most times we'd buy 1 pallet and a few times 2. But we'd shoot 22s probably 5 days a week.

We did shoot a LOT of 22 ammo in our rifles rifles and handguns. By the time I was in my 30s we had 9 Colt, Ruger and S&W 22 handguns, and also 6 different 22 rifles. 3 Winchesters, a Ruger, a Walther and a Remington. All got a lot of rounds put through them. How many we never counted exactly but from the time I was a teen until I was about 40 it would add up to over 1 million rounds.

I self-started my reloading, such as it is even now ( not done any in 10 years or so - getting back into it just a little), with a $19 Lee Loader kit in 1975 or so. Slow, but a danged good deal!

My groups with a R77V 25-06 went from about 5 inches factory ammo to MOA with my hand loads. IIRC, it was 57 grains IMR 4831 behind a 120 grain Speer. The caribou hated it!

No it wasn't- it was 47 grains - got it written down right there in the original Speer manual I used, and just happened to have handy.

So much for memory from 50 years back...

Man, that thing would have been hot with 57!

Nope, most of my bad habits came from an uncle.

I had to teach myself to shoot. My dad was a very good shot but didn’t do it for recreation. His pump 270 killed just about every deer it was pointed at. They were always running because we held deer drives.
His advice for me as a young man was. Don’t shoot at them-shoot them! Edk

Dad liked guns, seemed to have shot up all his bullets before I was born. He didn't have any loaded rounds for his 243 for 20+ years. Hunting and fishing weren't really his thing, but I was ate up with it. I found my grandfathers old Lyman press and had 2 buddies help me get started going down the hole of reloading. Funny now 20 years later my dad has more guns and 10x the bullets he did when I was growing up. He enjoys shooting with my nephew.

My (paternal) grampa was born 1893.
Served in WWI and was a rig builder during the Kilgore (TX) oil boom when oil derricks were wooden.
During the Great Depression, he worked for the Gov't building US Hwy 84 between Rusk, TX and Palestine, TX.
Most of the construction was done with horse drawn equipment.
Whoever was willing to stay and tend the livestock over the weekend earned an extra fifty cents for each day.

When they weren't tending the livestock, they were shooting up bricks of .22LR ammo.
I've still got grampa's old Rem "Target Master" single shot rifle.
He and my dad (1920-1981) were both "hunters", but they weren't "shooters".
Both were sudden death with rifle or shotgun. I've heard grampa's hunting companions say that he could kill 7 birds on a covey rise with his Win M12!
If either one burned any gun powder, there HAD to be game.
Grampa "never" bought a box of rifle (.30-30) ammo. He would go to Babcock Bros down on Spring Street and buy 7 shells. That's all his Marlin 336RC would hold. Seven shells would last him three years. Two deer per season.
When I started reloading for a .41 Rem Mag handgun I had purchased, my dad thought I was crazy for burning through ammo and considered reloads as dangerous and untrustworthy! 😖

I bought a Lee Loader and basically, became a "self taught" reloader.
The guy that sold me the Lee Loader also became my mentor and I learned with his RCBS "Jr.", C frame press loading .270 ammo.
Again, pop thought I was crazy for shooting so much.
Neither dad nor grampa tried to teach me the basics of wingshooting, so I never became much of a wingshot.
I still reload, WHEN I can find components.
I've shown both my kids (both LEO's!) how to reload, but they really couldn't care less about the process.
They'd rather buy their ammo.

I did all I could do!

Dad loved hunting and fishing. We hunted most of the western states for deer and elk. However, I think he favored bird hunting, especially pheasants. He was the best all-around fisherman I've ever met. Trout, salmon, bass, and everything in between. He was not a shooter or reloader. I learned that on my own and still learning.

No one in my family was a shooter. My Dad hunted moose and grouse but never did shoot for fun. The only gun I ever saw him fire was his 22LR head shooting grouse.

I got into this on my own accord after I married and moved to the other end of the country. I always liked guns but got a lot more serious after I got married as I needed a hobby better than drinking beer with the boys. I taught myself how to handload from manuals before the internet happened. I didn't know another person who loaded their own ammo.

My Dad was, by far, the best wing-shot I ever saw or heard of. His passions were "bird hunting" (quail hunting), and dove and duck hunting. He taught all four of us kids how to hunt and shoot, including my sister. He always bought high-brass and 2 3/4" magnums for ducks and occasional goose hunting, but for doves and quail he mostly reloaded, both 12ga and 20ga, on a couple of MEC 600jr's and taught me how to do it when I was 10 or so. But he also always bought a couple cases each of 20ga and 12ga field loads every year in case he ran low of reloads. Dad normally shot a limit of 20 doves with 20 or 21 shots. Once, it took him 23 shots and he was quite aggravated with himself. He wouldn't shoot skeet or trap because it was "too easy and not a challenge", but he encouraged me to do it, especially if I brought home all the AA, RXP, and Fed Champion hulls that I could...

He taught all of us to shoot 22's and handguns. We had a ragged old Marlin 1893 .30-30 with a rusted out bore that wouldn't stabilize jacketed bullets and a Lee Enfield No.4 Mk.1 that my grandfather had sorta sporterized and it shot remarkably good groups. We had a bunch of surplus .303 British ammo, and when I shot up all of that I had to start buying my own. I had a friend the next ridge over whose dad reloaded rifle and pistol. He had a genuine "Chicago typewriter" Thompson .45ACP machine gun with several of the drum magazines and a pile stick mags. He would let my friend and I shoot it all we wanted, but we had to provide our own ammo. His dad also taught us how to reload for rifles and handguns. So we would ride our bikes to the nearest store that sold reloading supplies (across the river in Florence, AL) and buy powder, primers and bullets. My friend mowed yards, raked leaves and such and I did the same, plus had a large paper route, so we were able to finance quite a bit of shooting. When I was 11 y/o (1966), I saved my money and bought an RCBS Rockchucker, Ohaus 10-10 scales, powder measure, Lee powder dippers, RCBS .303 British and .45ACP dies and all the other stuff to start reloading myself at home. Dad gave me an area on the workbench in his shop to set up my equipment. I still use that equipment today.

My friend and I would sit up on Friday night loading .45ACP on that Rockchucker until we got too tired to do it safely (both our dads had drilled reloading safety into us), then we'd get up on Saturday morning and go somewhere and shoot it all up in less than two hours usually. That old Thompson barrel was probably about smoothbore, LOL. His dad required that we clean and lube it after we shot it, so the next time we'd shoot it, I always looked forward to getting it hot enough that the grease and oil would start smoking and cooking off of it.

Dad was never much interested in learning metallic reloading, but he did find my Lyman and Speer reloading handbooks interesting. He watched me reloading for the Enfield one day, asked a bunch of questions, and was satisfied that I knew what I was doing. So he never watched me again. His only advice was "Son, please be careful. Your mother's already worried about all the powder we've got down here." We got our first deer season in 1968, for shotguns only. Our first rifle deer season was in 1970. Dad wouldn't take me because he didn't want to waste a day of bird hunting trying to shoot a danged deer. It was my dream to be able to go "big game" hunting. So, in 1971, one of his buddies took me. I killed my first deer the second day, using the Lee Enfield and my reloads with Hornady 150gr spire pt, IMR 4895 powder and CCI primer. Killed my first seven bucks with that rifle and load.

In 1997, at age of 71, Dad finally relented and went deer hunting with me. I put him on a ground stand in the woods overlooking a draw that the deer travelled. For the first time ever, he got to see, close up, a flock of turkeys fly down and start feeding around him, and to top that, when the turkeys suddenly alarmed and flew and ran off, he had a bobcat come easing past him about 4 ft away, at closest. When it got about 7ft past him, it winded him and turned and looked at him and they locked eyes. The bobcat knew he was had, and dropped into a low crouch and sloooowly belly crawled another 12ft to a big rock and ducked behind it and hauled butt running away. Dad was hooked. He didn't get a buck that year, and the next year, he was paralyzed and partially blinded on his right side by a stroke. He partially recovered but was never able to hunt again. I cherish every trip we ever made together.

No my dad wasn’t an outdoorsman at all. Once dad got out of the army and back home from overseas he said he didn’t have any interest in hunting. I remember a comment that dad made once when I was young, something to the effect of he never wanted to “kill” anything ever again. I never followed up on that and to this day I’ve left the topic alone.

Despite dad’s predisposition for the Waldorf or Ritz and good meals in nice restaurants dad ALWAYS nurtured my love for all things outdoors. Dad took me “pheasant” hunting for the first time (he just walked the fields with me) and dad took me fishing for the first time. Dad didn’t want anything to do with “roughing it” but he allowed me to find my own joy.

My grandpa (maternal) was my partner in crime and one of the finest men anyone could hope to know. Grandpa and I spent countless hours fishing and hunting together but grandpa didn’t want to kill anything anymore so he let me do the shooting.

I was almost completely self-taught. I read everything I could and I absorbed the information like a sponge. I’m 52 and have been hunting since I was 8 when I finished hunters ed with a score of 99%. At 8 I had the highest score in the class. I loved hunting so much and I craved being around guys that hunted so the following year I took hunters ed again just for the fun of talking guns and hunting…plus I figured they’d hand out new updated reading materials and gun catalogs. 😀

I’ll forever be grateful to my dad for nurturing my love of the outdoors even though it was uncomfortable and foreign to dad. My grandpa was my best friend growing up and he fueled my fire and stoked my passion for fishing and hunting. Those early memories are magical and I know how blessed I was/am to have the family I have. Out of 5 kids I’m the only outdoorsman in the family….I’m not just someone that likes being in the wilderness I’m someone that NEEDS to be in the wild places.

My Dad didn't hunt or reload. He did like to fish and took me on many a fishing trip. When he got older I was the one taking him fishing. I still remember the last time we went fishing together. He passed at 87. From as far back as I can remember I wanted to hunt and shoot. Dad got me a subscription to Outdoor Life and the first thing I read was Jack O'Connor's column every month. My first rifle I bought was a Sako Finnbear in .270 Win. A friends father got me started in reloading and a neighbor took me hunting.

My dad and his family were hunters. He started me at 12, which at the time in PA is when you could start.

Him and his brother were champion trap shooters, both 27 yard line in ATA. Many championships between them, including my father winning a couple state handicap championships.

My father only reloaded shotgun shells for his trap shooting, but that did give me the bug to reload.

I am a self taught reloader. Been reloading rifle loads since 1980.

Thanks for all the replies, enjoyed hearing your experiences all

41

My dad was a good hunter according to my uncles, he enjoyed hunting small game and deer mostly. He passed away back in 1962 in his 40's so I never got to hunt with him.

My biological father was a f****** asshole. He hunted, but that gains him NO elevation in my regard. If he had a grave I'd piss on it.

Nope. He hunted some with my mother’s brother after the war, but after h took off for Florida he got into boats and fished as an excuse for the boats.

Once he asked me how many guns I had and was aghast that I couldn’t tell him off the top of my head. I still can’t, though I can list them all, just never bothered to put a number to it.

I am certain that it’s almost, but not quite, enough……😜

I was born into a hunting, shooting and hand loading family

Yes to both. He taught me to shoot. He taught me to hunt, He taught me to reload. He taught me how to work on cars. He taught me to enjoy a cold beer. He taught me to be a man on my word. He taught me what honor means. Cancer took him in 2013 and I still miss him. RIP Pop.

No one in my immediate family shot or hunted other than my maternal grandfather who occasionally coon and fox hunted. He passed when I was 10 and had been in poor health for awhile. All I can remember doing with him was fishing once on the Tombigbee River. I guess I broke the mold though. I've been reloading for almost 50 years and have about 35 different sets of dies. I guess I'll be a one and done in the family though. All three of my kids enjoy hunting and/or shooting occasionally, but none have been truly bitten by the bug. All of the grandkids live too far away for me to really get my hooks into them. They're all too gung ho into sports and music. Can't complain to much about that though, they are all following their obsessions into college and, hopefully, careers.

Really wish I had some hunting and reloading buddies though....

Yep. Dad shot and hunted. A natural athlete, he was a fantastic wing shot.

It was an interesting way to grow up. All the gun companies sent Dad practically every new gun introduced, so I got to shoot a wide variety .

My Dad was not a shooter or hunter. Though as he got older, he enjoyed fishing. However, Dad passed in '83 and my step-father, Doc, grew up in Pennsylvania and was a lifetime hunter. When he found out my husband wrote for Field & Stream (Mule Deer) he was thrilled.
We got to hunt with him one time, shortly after he and Mom married, but by then he was pretty old and his eyes were failing. (Well, and other things too.) But my Mom bought him lots of the latest in base layers, and John had him apply for an early season doe whitetail tag, which he drew. So, early October they came to Montana, and John brought along a couple of chairs they could sit on, and extra binoculars and had Doc sight-in at our house. John sat Doc down at a shooting bench, and watched as Doc wiggled and squirmed trying to get the target lined up. After a few minutes of this, Doc asked if he could just stand up and shoot. Sure, John said. And Doc very quickly punched the bullseye three times. He was deadly offhand at 100 yards.
So off they went hunting. First was a morning hunt, along a willowy creek, with cut wheat on both sides, and as they approached the cover John planned to set Doc down in, Doc reached into his pocket, grabbed his flashlight, and scanned the edge of the willows with it. Doe eyes everywhere. The evening hunt was no more productive. As they walked into the cut wheat field, and approached the edge of the deeper cover, Doc did not pull his flashlight out. John had politely made clear that was a no-no. What he did do, however, was have just a wee bit of trouble unfolding his chair, rattling it noisily. Crash, bang, huff, huff. And that was all she wrote.
Great shot, bad instincts. But he had fun teasing my Mom about my hunting, at one point parading my Browning A-Bolt .270 into the living room and announcing, "Cece, this is Eileen's gun." I wish I'd been around him when he was younger..... He was a lot of fun.
PS Mom gave us his rifle when he passed away. A Western Field .270.

My Dad was never a shooter, when he grew up, he used a remington targetmaster on gophers.

Later on he bought a Ruger 10/22, used that for pest control around the farm.
He inherated a cooey 71 from his Dad, not even shot a box of shells

When I got my PAL, basically started his collecting of .22's.

Up here in Canada we had the liscence system, PAL, before that was FAC, Dad had his FAC for many years, he didn't know that he could by guns.
When I bought my first rifle he learned that he was good to go.

It's been around 3 1/2 years and He's been collecting all kinds of .22's he likes the pump type, like the winchester 61.

Have told you I got to hunt doves, perdiz and ducks with Grits in 1996. He was indeed a fine shotgunner--and a great to hang around with!

Father was neither a shooter or hunter. Maternal Grandfather was but was getting long in the tooth so only got to ground sluice a few grouse as he drove the car along back roads before he wasn't able to do that. I was the youngest grandson my older brothers got a bit more time with him, neither of them continued to hunt or shoot after they got into the later teen years. I couldn't get enough and hunted/fished on my own since about 11 or 12 even though I wasn't legally old enough or had a licence to do so on my own. I'd go to gramps place, take the 22 or the 20 gauge single shot, head up the hill in the woods behind the house and shoot the odd grouse or rabbit. Sometimes shot an annoying red squirrel but not often, ammo was to precious to waste on them.