Applicants to Uncle Bob's Institute For Wayward Boys N' Retards
are carefully screened and tested.
If there's one thing the retards around here know - is that Ol' Slabsides is no broken down antique. One big mistake we make in this hobby is our obsession with equipment. That 1873 Colt Peace Maker made A LOT of peace in it's day and could do so again today at the drop of a hat. The Colt 1911 is still a nasty piece of iron if you're on the wrong side of it. What those old guns did back in their day, they can still do today.
The gun gods (usually Darwin and Murphy - but there are others) don't give a tinker's damn about equipment. Back when I was a kid I was going to be a mighty white hunter because I had blown my life's savings on a beautiful 7mm magnum. That thing sure was pretty to look at. And the 7 mag is a respectable powerhouse in the game field. But every time I was out with that gun, there wasn't a critter to be seen anywhere. I sold that gun to help finance my return to school some years later.
When I got out of
jail school I bought a house and some vehicles and had no money to spare - so I picked up a Mauser milsurp K98. I had no problems smacking deer and coyotes with that thing. In fact, I made the best shot of my life with that beater.
Me and Skinbag were somewhere southeast of Dreadful Valley out for coyotes. I was along for company, shooting yodellers is a long range proposition, and my iron sighted war horse was no match for Skinbag's custom .25-06 varmint gun. We drove along an icy backroad in the middle of nowhere, coffees in hand, the heater on full blast - January can get mighty cold round here and is the best time to hunt yodellers.
Out of the blue a yodeller popped out of the ditch right in front of us and started galloping south at top speed. Skinbag slammed on the brakes, had the window down and even got off a shot. He missed because his scope was cranked up to 12X - which is where you want to be when shooting at long distance. When the shooting is close picking up and tracking a fast target at that magnification is impossible.
I bailed out the other side, slipped on the ice and fell, but came up fast. I swung the old Mauser around, passed through the yodeller's body and boiler room and lead him about a foot and a harf in front of his nose - and dropped him with one shot. He tumbled arse over tea kettle and didn't even twitch. The dawg was about 125 yards out at a full run when I potted him. Skinbag was astounded. He spent serious money on his guns and hated it when I brought animals down with my bargain basement beaters.
When my fortunes improved I sold that Mauser to make room in the safe for flashier new guns and it was one a the stupidest things I ever did!