I love these threads... they let me reminisce.
When I was a lad, not that many years ago, you could count on just about every household having the same 3 guns: a single shot 22, a pump shotgun in either 12 or 16 gauge, and a centerfire rifle of some sort, usually either a lever action 30WCF or a bolt action in either 270 or '06. Quail were still very much around, as were rabbits, and so the shotgun was the primary arm. The .22 was for shooting squirrels and any critters that got in your garden; likewise the centerfire rifle might not get shot more than 2 or 3 shots a year should you be lucky enough to get a chance at a buck (no doe shooting then). When I was 12 or 13, I had a double barrel 10 gauge hammer gun. The local store would sell me individual 2&7/8ths shells for 10 cents each; 22 shorts were 75 cents a box by comparison. I shot everything with that gun, too. From quail to deer and everything in between. I also had a Stevens Favorite single shot 22 that we found in junkyard and "restored". I don't recall anyone owning a 20 gauge shotgun except my grandfather, who in his old age acquired a Browning Light Twenty; I wasn't even allowed to touch it, much less shoot it. Similarly, no one had anything that resembled a "long range" or "magnum" rifle such as 300Win or 7MM Mag.
In those days, if you had a 22 WMR, you were considered a poacher; according to popular opinion "they ain't good fur nothin' else". Varmint rifles were unheard of then; the first 22 Hornet I'd ever seen in person was one I bought about 5 years ago. Same for the .222 I bought last fall. Handloading was rarely spoken of, and I looked at those that did so as if they were alchemists turning lead to gold. Oh, the joys of youth!
Of course these days, we are over-run with the latest plastic-fantastic super automatic 6.5mm extra long range magnums, topped with 6.5-35x60 triple coated, double plated, fully illuminated infrared self-sighting, auto adjusting scopes and loaded with ammo capable of splitting a Cape Buffalo precisely in half at 500 yards. Gone are the days of tramping the woods looking for something to shoot for supper; the quail are no more in these hills, likewise the rabbits. The old Winchesters, Remingtons, and Ithacas stand silent in cabinets and closets, relegated to nothing more than blasting the occasional garden raiding varmint. Everyone has the latest deer hunting rifle and caliber; some guys change rifles like I change socks. You rarely see an old '06 or .270 in the woods, unless its an old "Fudd" like me carrying it. I do have one friend who is religious about carrying his 30-30; "it's plenty 'nuff gun for 'round here" he says. And, I tend to agree. The latest isn't always the greatest, after all.
Mac
