Ratdog68
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Once old enough to circumvent the workings of a mother who had only 01 of seven children mean enough to live (no, I wasn't one of them mean enough to live)... as soon as I turned 18, I bought my first gun (soon after moving out). A Remington 700 ADL in .30-06, with a 4x32 scope atop some see-thru rings. In preparation for my first hunt, I did my best to prepare. Meaning, an 18yr old sat in his apartment living room and cycled the bolt a gajillion times, pulling the trigger on an empty chamber... and memorizing every curve of the wood, and every machining mark on the bolt... you get the drift.
Something soon troubled me about my gun. Mine didn't function in the same appearance as others'. My bolt handle didn't seat all the way down into the cut-out in the stock. "?" So... one should get some answers. I drove myself to the mall, where they had a Sporting Goods department in the Department Store (OMG !!!!). I proudly carried my snazzy rifle in the soft sided case I'd bought for it, into the mall, into the Department Store, and into the Sporting Goods section. (Yes, you could do that once, and those things existed in Department Stores, and in malls !!!) It didn't matter that I hadn't bought the rifle there, the nice ol' gent behind the counter was interested in what I had in tow. I explained my findings to him, and he agreed to take a look. Being the savvy gun person he was, he soon discovered the cause. Whomever mounted the scope prior to my purchase of it (and the gun) had neglected to use a proper length screw for the mount... which protruded down through the action enough to keep the bolt from turning far enough for the handle to nestle down all the way into the stock's cut-out... meaning, it also did not allow the bolt to fully lock into battery. Which, was explained to me, was NOT the makings for a happy time shooting. The nice man removed the offending screw and filed it down to length, put things back together, et, Voila !!! A properly functioning weapon ! Having properly thanked the nice man for his help, I figured it only fair to purchase some ammunition from him for his time (given to me).
The big day arrived, my buddy (Roy) and I head out to the sticks (just outside of Seattle) and up some logging roads on Mt. SI. We park, get out of the rig and prepare to head into the forest. He looks at me and asks: "You gonna wear that?" Hmmm... note to self, a medium brown hoodie with a white hood may NOT be the best choice of hunting clothing... while deer hunting. Nope, hoodie went back into the rig. (Thankfully, it was a nice day, plenty warm).
As learned from the hunting regulations, it was "Buck Only", greatly narrowing one's chances at a "first deer" (for TWO young bucks out on the hunt). Late morning, we gaze across a draw and, proudly standing on the opposing ridge... is a fine deer, with a few brown spots on the mostly white body. Up comes the rifle and... no antlers. It's a doe. First hunt, first deer, and it's a rare one. To shoot, or not to shoot?
At the end of the day, we find a line of vehicles where the logging road ends and the highway begins. It's Mr. Scales and Feathers, checking EVERY rig leaving the mountain side !!! We get there and excitedly tell Mr. Warden of our sighting that morning... to which he smiles politely, finishes checking our license/tags/empty rig and sends us on our way. Hmmm... me thinks he already KNEW of that deer, and where it was... and was pleased to learn it was STILL there. Yeah, we were glad SHE was too.
Something soon troubled me about my gun. Mine didn't function in the same appearance as others'. My bolt handle didn't seat all the way down into the cut-out in the stock. "?" So... one should get some answers. I drove myself to the mall, where they had a Sporting Goods department in the Department Store (OMG !!!!). I proudly carried my snazzy rifle in the soft sided case I'd bought for it, into the mall, into the Department Store, and into the Sporting Goods section. (Yes, you could do that once, and those things existed in Department Stores, and in malls !!!) It didn't matter that I hadn't bought the rifle there, the nice ol' gent behind the counter was interested in what I had in tow. I explained my findings to him, and he agreed to take a look. Being the savvy gun person he was, he soon discovered the cause. Whomever mounted the scope prior to my purchase of it (and the gun) had neglected to use a proper length screw for the mount... which protruded down through the action enough to keep the bolt from turning far enough for the handle to nestle down all the way into the stock's cut-out... meaning, it also did not allow the bolt to fully lock into battery. Which, was explained to me, was NOT the makings for a happy time shooting. The nice man removed the offending screw and filed it down to length, put things back together, et, Voila !!! A properly functioning weapon ! Having properly thanked the nice man for his help, I figured it only fair to purchase some ammunition from him for his time (given to me).
The big day arrived, my buddy (Roy) and I head out to the sticks (just outside of Seattle) and up some logging roads on Mt. SI. We park, get out of the rig and prepare to head into the forest. He looks at me and asks: "You gonna wear that?" Hmmm... note to self, a medium brown hoodie with a white hood may NOT be the best choice of hunting clothing... while deer hunting. Nope, hoodie went back into the rig. (Thankfully, it was a nice day, plenty warm).
As learned from the hunting regulations, it was "Buck Only", greatly narrowing one's chances at a "first deer" (for TWO young bucks out on the hunt). Late morning, we gaze across a draw and, proudly standing on the opposing ridge... is a fine deer, with a few brown spots on the mostly white body. Up comes the rifle and... no antlers. It's a doe. First hunt, first deer, and it's a rare one. To shoot, or not to shoot?
At the end of the day, we find a line of vehicles where the logging road ends and the highway begins. It's Mr. Scales and Feathers, checking EVERY rig leaving the mountain side !!! We get there and excitedly tell Mr. Warden of our sighting that morning... to which he smiles politely, finishes checking our license/tags/empty rig and sends us on our way. Hmmm... me thinks he already KNEW of that deer, and where it was... and was pleased to learn it was STILL there. Yeah, we were glad SHE was too.