bamaranger
New member
No, not my granddad........but a Remington Model 14, cal. 30 Remington, mfg. in 1913, second year of production!
I snicked 5 obsolete 170 grain Core-Lokt cartridges into the spiral magazine tube, cycled the pump, and watched the entire mag reciprocate and deliver a cartridge to the chamber. The action cycled like oiled ball bearings on glass. A bit of fiddling, and I finally got round #6 into the tube, the process a bit tedious, just like when I was a kid, age 12. Down the trail a quarter mile or so to my stand, the old rifle was a joy to carry, light, sleek, balanced........no more of an incumbrance than a stout walking stick.
A bit of anxiety as dawn broke. In the pines, the semi-buckhorn rear and bead front (painted white) was a bit hard to make out until we got good light, then I was OK. I sure don't have a 12 yr. olds eyes anymore! A heavily used trail snaked through the thick stuff, a mere 30 yds away, if a buck came through there, he was in big trouble. The wind was perfect, buck sign nearby, we'd see.......
While on stand, I admired the old rifle, really in VG+ shape. I'd acquired it in 1982, it was not the rifle I'd started with, my Dad traded that one away. But it was just like "mine", and I had to have it, and spent $350 seasonal ranger dollars that really should have been spent on something else, to take it home from a shop in central PA.
How many mornings on stand had this old rifle seen? How many different hands had carried it afield? How many deer had it taken?
I'd not killed one with it, that was for sure. And no buck showed this AM either. But it was great hunting with an old acquaintance, even if adopted.
I snicked 5 obsolete 170 grain Core-Lokt cartridges into the spiral magazine tube, cycled the pump, and watched the entire mag reciprocate and deliver a cartridge to the chamber. The action cycled like oiled ball bearings on glass. A bit of fiddling, and I finally got round #6 into the tube, the process a bit tedious, just like when I was a kid, age 12. Down the trail a quarter mile or so to my stand, the old rifle was a joy to carry, light, sleek, balanced........no more of an incumbrance than a stout walking stick.
A bit of anxiety as dawn broke. In the pines, the semi-buckhorn rear and bead front (painted white) was a bit hard to make out until we got good light, then I was OK. I sure don't have a 12 yr. olds eyes anymore! A heavily used trail snaked through the thick stuff, a mere 30 yds away, if a buck came through there, he was in big trouble. The wind was perfect, buck sign nearby, we'd see.......
While on stand, I admired the old rifle, really in VG+ shape. I'd acquired it in 1982, it was not the rifle I'd started with, my Dad traded that one away. But it was just like "mine", and I had to have it, and spent $350 seasonal ranger dollars that really should have been spent on something else, to take it home from a shop in central PA.
How many mornings on stand had this old rifle seen? How many different hands had carried it afield? How many deer had it taken?
I'd not killed one with it, that was for sure. And no buck showed this AM either. But it was great hunting with an old acquaintance, even if adopted.
