Old Friends
Dark Corners Hide Good Surprises
The Tahoe is new, the buck is big and Tank found out
his wife was pregnant. Why the glum, scared look?
Have you ever unexpectedly bumped into a long, lost friend? During this impromptu encounter, you end up spending more time reminiscing about the “good old days.” Before you know it, several hours have elapsed reliving both wonderful and heartbreaking moments, as only can happen with an old friend.
This happened to me recently. I was looking for a particular gun for an article, and the silly rascal was playing a game of hide-and-seek with me. Looking into the deep abyss of my safe, it was here where the chance meeting occurred.
Tank (center) with his biggest deer taken to date in WV
with his old friend, the Remington 700 .30-06.
“My” First Deer Rifle
Like most kids, the first deer I killed was with a borrowed rifle. I don’t remember whose it was, but it was a Remington 760 pump-action with “see-thru” mounts and a glossy Bushnell scope, one we later jokingly referred to as “the classic Amish Assault Rifle.” The Remington 760 is very popular in the Pennsylvania woods. Back then, most deer hunters also hunted small game with pump-action shotguns. It only made sense to run the same action you were familiar with and believe me, those carrying Remington 760s knew how to run them as fast as any semi-auto rifle — which were illegal back then.
I kill a chunky “forky” (four point) with the borrowed 760. I was hooked! When you are young, time takes forever to pass from the current deer season to next year’s. This provides a young fella’ with lots of time to dream about the coming season and what gear he needs for next year. Naturally, I wanted my own deer rifle.
Guns
Being a proud “Boomer,” things were different back then. I received a Daisy 1894 BB gun for Christmas at age 5 and a .22 long rifle Harrington & Richardson bolt-action rifle for my 8th birthday. If this happened today, my parents would probably risk being charged with “Contributing to the delinquency of a minor.” Like I said, things were different back then — for the better! I never gave my parents reason not to give me a gun. By them doing so, they showed me trust, one I never betrayed. It, in turn, made me more responsible.
Ever since kindergarten, the first two weeks of summer vacation were spent on my grandparents’ dairy farm. I was blessed by having room to roam and exposure to my uncles who were both hunters. After the afternoon milking and supper, it was time to hunt groundhogs. I had three years of supervision hunting them before getting my own .22 rifle.
Being an experienced hunter, my grandparents and uncles had no qualms about my hunting whistle pigs by myself. Along the way, my uncles taught me how to set double spring traps, baiting them with sardines, to trap sweetcorn-raiding raccoons.
Uncle Jerry taught Tank a lot about hunting groundhogs and deer. This was Jerry’s biggest buck — but Jerry died the following fall.
Remington 700
Picking a rifle was a no-brainer. The best hunters I knew were my uncles and they both carried Remington Model 700s. They must be the best if they carried them, right? Around this time, I started reading outdoor magazines and a common theme back then was the .30-06 being the best all-around cartridge there was.
Loaded correctly, you could take anything from ground hogs to grizzly using 100- to 110-grain bullets for vermin and up to 220-grain heavyweights for grizzly. Not that there was an abundance of grizzlies on the Pennsylvania farm, in my young mind it never hurt to have the potential to take one if necessary.
After getting my Remington 700 .30-06, I soon started handloading for it. And I did indeed use 110-grain Remington soft points for ground hogs and 180-grain Remington round-nosed Core Lokt bullets for bigger things — just no grizzlies.
Deer taken with the Remington 700 .30-06. Maybe it’s time to bring it out of retirement? The spike at extreme left was Tank’s daughter’s first buck.
The Man With One Gun
For years I carried the Remington .30-06 for everything. During summer, it was my 110-grain handloads for vermin and fall saw me carrying my 180 Core Lokts. All I had to do was adjust my Redfield 3-9X40 scope the required amount of clicks up or down for each load. I killed enough ground hogs to fill a pickup truck bed with that rifle, as well as several bucks.
I carried that rifle on the hunt when my uncle Jerry died in W.Va. and then killed my biggest buck the following year. Holding the rifle at arm’s length, I notice the dings, dents and scratches. I remember how upset I was when they happened. Now I’m glad they’re there, telling their tale of past hunts together.
The action of my Remington 700 is just as smooth as I remember. The trigger is sharp and crisp and the Redfield Scope still clear. After shooting imaginary deer on the wall, I wonder why I stopped hunting with the old friend?
Friends Galore!
Then I see all the lever guns, single shots, bolt guns representing just about every manufacturer in North America and am jarred back to reason. Curiosity, experimentation and the need to try something different are the culprits filling my gun room now.
Surely the man with one gun lives a simpler, quiet, if not boring life. But he sure is missing out on a lot of fun by doing so. And when I look at the gun that started it all, I am thankful for my Remington 700 .30-06. I think he’s deserving of a reward and need to take him on a hunt. After all, old friends are the best! And he’s responsible for all my other friends.
