This is sort of in the spirit of sm's stories, as it is a fond memory of mine from my childhood and "the way things were"...
23 years ago at the ripe old age of 9 I went to my first, last, and only turkey shoot. I plan on returning to that same turkey shoot this fall, after patterning my new 16ga. full choke 28" barrel on my NEF, whenever it finally comes in... The wait is driving me crazy, btw... I've almost bought another NEF several times, just to shoot while waiting... :banghead:
Anyway, 23 years ago, cold fall morning, in Appalachia. The turkey shoot was every Sunday alongside the American Legion hall on the edge of the village. I was 9 and proud to be going to such a grown up event as the turkey shoot. My weapon of choice (and necessity as it was my only gun) was a bolt action .410 with no magazine, essentially an awkward single shot. I thought it was the coolest though because nobody else I knew had a bolt action shotgun, and the wood was walnut stain instead of the blond wood everyone else had. I knew I had no chance of winning anything, but the point was I was there and I was going there to shoot just like the older guys.
My father took us, but didn't shoot. All he had was his old Stevens single shot 20 gauge, and while it was a great rabbit gun he had no interest in competing with his kids.
My brother was 12, and he had a Savage pump in 12 gauge. I have no idea what choke, but it was a fixed choke gun that kicked like a mule and threw flames out the muzzle, so we thought it was pretty neat. It also patterned extremely well, bone stock. He shot it often, and was a good shot with it, so he had a chance of winning something.
My cousin who was also 12 was the type that "bought skill and targets". He was sporting a Mossberg 20ga. with a screw-in polychoke. He rarely went shooting, but he sure did talk alot about it. His mother brought him, I believe.
We all bought our shells from the old fart sitting at the makeshift lemonade stand (no lemonade available, just birdshot in every gauge) and waited our turns to shoot. My brother entered into shoots for a turkey, a ham, and a couple money shoots. My cousin did the same. I was just in a couple turkey shoots, but again the point was participating, not winning, although part of me really thought I'd get a lucky piece of shot right on the tiny 'x' in the middle of a target and win something.
I was cross-dominant and still figuring out whether I was going to shoot righty or lefty, but I ended up shooting lefty once and righty once. Each time I got about 5 pellets on the paper, maybe 9 one time, but I was not discouraged. It was a victory just to be there like a grown-up, and I laughed about my intact targets as my brother rushed back to show how he had obliterated his target with his Savage.
My cousin complained about problems with his choke, and blamed it for his poor shooting. My brother won a turkey, a ham, and one of the money shoots for about $25.00 or so, to a chorus of "check his gun!" and "check his shell!"
Amazing how competition brings out the ugly in grown-ups. I was surprised as a 9 year old that these grown-ups in their fancy camo coveralls and hats with earflaps were yelling at my 12 year old brother as if he were a cheater. The gun and shells always checked out fine, and one sore loser left complaining about how they were going easy on my brother because he was a kid. Believe me, that Savage hadn't ever been cleaned let alone visited a gunsmith.
We left with the prizes my brother had won, sitting 3 abreast in the old Jeep J-series pickup with the straight six and the 3 speed on the floor. I had to move my legs around a lot to avoid that shifter, since I was stuck sitting in the middle on that blue vinyl bench seat. We showed my mother our targets and my brother got to puff out his chest and tell people for weeks about how he had beaten the grown-ups shooting and how they complained. He went back and won a ham once, and maybe a money shoot, but he never again dominated like he did that day.
I plan on returning to the location of that turkey shoot all these years later, with my single shot, and the hope that I'll do a little better this time. I figure I'll bring my brother, and I just might outshoot him now since he sold the Savage years ago and has not had the chance to really pattern the pile of cheap shotguns he has picked up over the years. He does have an old H&R Topper 158(?) in 16 gauge though, same barrel specs as mine, so maybe we'll have to go head-to-head with the same basic gun to determine who the better shot is.
Oh, and my cousin? Turns out he's magic with a bow. He shoots a bow like nobody's business and competes all over the place, or at least he used to. I'm sure he has a fancy shotgun or two lying around though, so maybe we'll bring him back for the rematch, since he's always been such a big talker.
We could always bring Dad again. I'm sure he'd just watch, as he still has that old Stevens from his youth which hasn't seen a rabbit (or a bore patch) in 30 years. If I get him to come shooting with me in the interim maybe he'll even compete for the heck of it. We'll see...
We can't show our targets to Mom this time, but I'm sure she'll be cheering us on anyway... We won't see her, but I'm sure we'll hear her.
I think its time to make some calls. Well, after I get this stuff out of my eyes...
gp911
23 years ago at the ripe old age of 9 I went to my first, last, and only turkey shoot. I plan on returning to that same turkey shoot this fall, after patterning my new 16ga. full choke 28" barrel on my NEF, whenever it finally comes in... The wait is driving me crazy, btw... I've almost bought another NEF several times, just to shoot while waiting... :banghead:
Anyway, 23 years ago, cold fall morning, in Appalachia. The turkey shoot was every Sunday alongside the American Legion hall on the edge of the village. I was 9 and proud to be going to such a grown up event as the turkey shoot. My weapon of choice (and necessity as it was my only gun) was a bolt action .410 with no magazine, essentially an awkward single shot. I thought it was the coolest though because nobody else I knew had a bolt action shotgun, and the wood was walnut stain instead of the blond wood everyone else had. I knew I had no chance of winning anything, but the point was I was there and I was going there to shoot just like the older guys.
My father took us, but didn't shoot. All he had was his old Stevens single shot 20 gauge, and while it was a great rabbit gun he had no interest in competing with his kids.
My brother was 12, and he had a Savage pump in 12 gauge. I have no idea what choke, but it was a fixed choke gun that kicked like a mule and threw flames out the muzzle, so we thought it was pretty neat. It also patterned extremely well, bone stock. He shot it often, and was a good shot with it, so he had a chance of winning something.
My cousin who was also 12 was the type that "bought skill and targets". He was sporting a Mossberg 20ga. with a screw-in polychoke. He rarely went shooting, but he sure did talk alot about it. His mother brought him, I believe.
We all bought our shells from the old fart sitting at the makeshift lemonade stand (no lemonade available, just birdshot in every gauge) and waited our turns to shoot. My brother entered into shoots for a turkey, a ham, and a couple money shoots. My cousin did the same. I was just in a couple turkey shoots, but again the point was participating, not winning, although part of me really thought I'd get a lucky piece of shot right on the tiny 'x' in the middle of a target and win something.
I was cross-dominant and still figuring out whether I was going to shoot righty or lefty, but I ended up shooting lefty once and righty once. Each time I got about 5 pellets on the paper, maybe 9 one time, but I was not discouraged. It was a victory just to be there like a grown-up, and I laughed about my intact targets as my brother rushed back to show how he had obliterated his target with his Savage.
My cousin complained about problems with his choke, and blamed it for his poor shooting. My brother won a turkey, a ham, and one of the money shoots for about $25.00 or so, to a chorus of "check his gun!" and "check his shell!"
Amazing how competition brings out the ugly in grown-ups. I was surprised as a 9 year old that these grown-ups in their fancy camo coveralls and hats with earflaps were yelling at my 12 year old brother as if he were a cheater. The gun and shells always checked out fine, and one sore loser left complaining about how they were going easy on my brother because he was a kid. Believe me, that Savage hadn't ever been cleaned let alone visited a gunsmith.
We left with the prizes my brother had won, sitting 3 abreast in the old Jeep J-series pickup with the straight six and the 3 speed on the floor. I had to move my legs around a lot to avoid that shifter, since I was stuck sitting in the middle on that blue vinyl bench seat. We showed my mother our targets and my brother got to puff out his chest and tell people for weeks about how he had beaten the grown-ups shooting and how they complained. He went back and won a ham once, and maybe a money shoot, but he never again dominated like he did that day.
I plan on returning to the location of that turkey shoot all these years later, with my single shot, and the hope that I'll do a little better this time. I figure I'll bring my brother, and I just might outshoot him now since he sold the Savage years ago and has not had the chance to really pattern the pile of cheap shotguns he has picked up over the years. He does have an old H&R Topper 158(?) in 16 gauge though, same barrel specs as mine, so maybe we'll have to go head-to-head with the same basic gun to determine who the better shot is.
Oh, and my cousin? Turns out he's magic with a bow. He shoots a bow like nobody's business and competes all over the place, or at least he used to. I'm sure he has a fancy shotgun or two lying around though, so maybe we'll bring him back for the rematch, since he's always been such a big talker.
We could always bring Dad again. I'm sure he'd just watch, as he still has that old Stevens from his youth which hasn't seen a rabbit (or a bore patch) in 30 years. If I get him to come shooting with me in the interim maybe he'll even compete for the heck of it. We'll see...
We can't show our targets to Mom this time, but I'm sure she'll be cheering us on anyway... We won't see her, but I'm sure we'll hear her.
I think its time to make some calls. Well, after I get this stuff out of my eyes...
gp911
