Fondest Memory you have shooting

Every time I take my 3 and 5 year old shooting their savage rascals,crickett, and daddies big guns.



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When I was a youngin' and my pops and I used to go down to the 200 acre farm he was raised on, to do chores (keep the place running), we'd spend the late afternoons on the back porch drinking tea and plinking at ground hogs in the fields with a scoped .22 bolt action.

We would take turns and well this one afternoon I hand the rifle to my dad, and we waited a few before he saw a hog pop it's head up just at the edge of the field. He got sights locked on and 'CLICK', the mag was empty. To this day he swears that ground hog smirked at him through the scope when he tried to fire.

Well my pops jumped off the porch like it was on fire and drew his .45 pistol that he carried while on the farm, and emptied it while running full tilt at that ground hog. Needless to say the hog was long gone by the time my dad was halfway to him but it was truly a sight to see.


Funny then and still funny to this day. One I will remember 'till I'm in the ground.

When my eyes were still young enough to put 6 rounds into a paper plate at 100 yards with my model 27. Now I can barely see the plate.

A few sides to this one, all sentimental. For "shooting" if it's me shooting the gun I have to say it was when as a kid I would go to my grandpas farm and we would shoot a few rounds through his single shot 22 that he got at around 10 years old, used then. He is turning 88 this year, and I have the rifle.

The best time with somebody else shooting was a few thanksgivings ago, maybe 2013. I had bought my grandmothers 22 rifle from her so she could buy gifts for the little ones in the family. This is the gun that fed her family as she grew up poor on the tail end of the depression. She asked how it shot and I told her I wasn't sure, I couldn't hit paper with it to find out. So as she left that afternoon she told me to go get it, and she proceeded to smack a shotgun hull with every shot until it was out of sight. Made me look bad, but I felt great seeing her smiling. That was the last time she ever put lead down range.

Moving over into hunting, the fondest memory is sitting on the tailgate of a pickup deer hunting with my other grandpa. He loved to go, and most days the gun stayed in the truck. He would just sit and enjoy watching time pass as it's supposed to, not in the minutes and seconds rushed world that man created, but in the natural world uncorrupted and beautiful where the only time your worried about is dusk and dawn.

Most memorable was shooting my first squirrel with a single shot Iver Johnson 410. My dad and brother had left me at the car to pick up left over corn for our chickens in a large corn field. I spotted a squirrel walking through the weeds a few feet from the car. I think I was about 6 or 7 at the time. I took the 410 out of the car, loaded it, and, using both hands managed to get it cocked. I aimed and fired. My older brother ran about a 1/4 mile to check on my welfare because he was afraid I had shot accidentally. He always cocked the gun for me. But, when he arrived out of breath, I was standing there proudly displaying my very first squirrel. I'll never forget it.

The best memory was my first pheasant hunt with my Dad. I shot my first pheasant with the 28 ga side by side that Dad grew up with which made it all the more memorable.

Pest control. Noticing how pests bodies reacted to different calibers. Noting how most small furry pests are made out of the same kind of fur

The basement range my dad made for me ... cardboard boxes set up as BB traps on one end of the basement ... shooting my two BB guns, a Crosman M-1 Carbine and a Daisy 1894 ... my dad teaching me how to use both a peep sight and a rear leaf sight ... Everything I learned about shooting a rifle, sight picture, trigger control, breathing, I learned from my dad when I was about eight years old, in the basement of our old house. Dad was so patient.

Hard to top those memories, but taking my daughter outdoor in the foothills and teaching her how to shoot a 1911 when she was in her late teens comes close ... As does earning my first marksmanship award in the military with an M-14 ...

Getting to shoot the PD's M1A1 Thompsons with my Dad and the PD Armorer when I was 11. I still get this grin thinking about it 42 years later.

Gotta be the first time shooting a MK19

I proposed to my wife with a bulk box of .22lr. I stashed the ring in a 500 bulk pack and she ended up, without looking, trying to load the gold/diamond engagement ring into her Savage MKII magazine. She looked down and exploded into tears. She said yes.

All my shooting sessions, especially those with family, friends, and new shooters, have been memorable. The one that really stands out though is the time my buddy and I went shooting on President's Day maybe like 9 or 10 years ago. Freezing cold temps, at least a foot of snow on the ground, and fierce wind coming out of the North-North West, made for a rather unique and albeit brief range visit.

When I was a young pup,,,

When I was a young pup,,,
I would often get to spend a week or weekend with my great-uncle Bantie.

Bantie and Lou were childless themselves,,,
So they tended to dote on their nieces and nephews.

Bantie would stop off after work and get two six-packs of beer,,,
Then we would go out to the back yard with his pair of single-shot .22 pistols.

We would sit on this old log and Bantie would drink a beer,,,
Then he would toss the can out for me to shoot at.

I would kneel behind the log using it as a rest,,,
I'm pretty sure those pistols were break-open Stevens.

By the time I rolled the can too far for me to hit every shot,,,
Uncle Bantie would have finished another beer.

Aunt Lou would have to come and drag us in to eat dinner,,,
Those week and weekend visits were some of the high points in my childhood.

I had a black-white photograph she took of us out on that log,,,
It showed us from behind with me sitting next to Bantie,,,
His big old self and my tiny young self close together.

Very Norman Rockwell-ish,,,
I'm choking up a teeny bit remembering it.

I don't have any fond memories of my Dad and guns,,,
My Pop was a hunter as a child but never a recreational shooter,,,
Until we moved out in the country I had to beg him to take me shooting.

Same with my grandfather,,,
Target shooting was a waste of money.

You could either shoot or not,,,
Practice was irrelevant.

After we moved to the country things changed for me,,,
There was an old county dump close enough to bicycle to and from.

My old Winchester 1890 pump was essentially a single-shot,,,
Pop tossed the magazine rod when I bought it at a farm auction.

But I would collect soda bottles from the bar ditches for the deposit refund money,,,
On a good week I could get enough for 2 boxes of .22 shorts.

The rats at the dump were my favorite targets,,,
Mom would pack me a sack lunch of PB & J sandwiches,,,
Those and two mason jars of water and I was good for a "safari".

Believe it or not my first actual date was at that dump,,,
I asked the cute little girl down the road if she wanted to go with me.

She said yes and borrowed a .22 rifle from her older brother,,,
Mom packed an extra special picnic lunch for us,,,
We were out there for several hours,,,
How's that for a first date.

You're gonna laugh at this,,,
I can't remember the little girl's name,,,
But even after 56 years I can remember her rifle,,,
It was a Remington Nylon 66 with a 2x scope mounted on it.

I was very envious of that gun.

Aarond

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My favorite was the first time I evercwent duck hunting. I was 17 and knew it all. I was an experienced dove and quail hunter. My Dad kept telling me how much faster ducks were and how you had to lead them more. I just kept saying "yeah, yeah".

When dawn broke, there was a pair of duck flying at us from straight ahead. I said "watch this" and took one shot ... and got both ducks. My Dad had his mouth open and said "I'm not giving you any more advice"! (I was as surprised as he was, but couldn't act like I was). We ended up having a great day hunting.

My Dad passed away two years ago today, and it will be one of the great memories I hold on to.

I have some great hunting and shooting memories from when I was a kid for me the best times have been when I've gotten to share my passion for guns and shooting with family and friends.

Our youngest son and I shoot action pistol, 3 gun, and action rifle together, we always have a great time and I love watching him shoot and seeing him improve. Last summer was his first season shooting and our oldest son, who is a USAF SOF TACP, was home on a rare few days of leave with his wife and we all made it a match and got to shoot together then went out to lunch and had a ball looking at pictures and watching videos from the match. It was a fine day.




My dad was career military but hasn't competed since he was in the Army back in the late '50s but he still comes over to my place to shoot in the back field. When he does I'll bring out whatever my most recent purchase is to try and we spend an hour or two popping caps and shooting the breeze. Always a good time.

i remember going shooting with my maternal gpa,i was maybe 11 or 12. he had several guns but we took his orig winchester hi wall in 32-40 and his sporterized argentine mauser in 30-06.

we shot the hi wall several times with his black powder reloaded ammo. one case was so old, id say a lot of his brass may of been from the 30's or 40's, that it tore in half upon ejection. somehow he expertly popped out the remaining part of the case with his old brass home made cleaning rod.

then we shot the old mauser, whew! that thing kicked like a mule with its straight wrist stock.

i now have the 32-40 and my brother has the argentine mauser. i miss that old man!

The first time I took my son to the range with me. It was about 10+ years ago and he was around 10. He was so excited and has become my shooting buddy ever since.

i have a lot of memories of shooting with my son. he is 21 now and at rolla school of engineering.

when he was about 7 or 8 we had been out shooting and when we were oiling our guns for storage, he lamented to me that he did not understand why he was not allowed to hunt alone with a "big rifle".

his current weapon was a rather anemic single shot pellet rifle.he was allowed to hunt around the farm yard with it if i was near him.

the pellets would bounce off birds over maybe 20 feet.

i told him when he was a good enuf shot to bring home some game with his pellet gun then i would consider letting him hunt with a bigger gun.that was a stupid statement on my part.

about a hr later he came back with a fine rabbit.when i asked him how he got it with his pellet gun?

he said "i sneaked up on it but wounded it with the first shot, then i tracked it and cornered it under the hay baler and shot it again"

dad had to do a bit of crawfishing. as it turned out his weapon of choice to hunt with was my ak-47.

i sat him down and explained why this was not a good idea,he understood. we still laugh about it today.

Maybe 3 days ago. My 3 teenagers got up and did their chores so they could go to the range with me. We spent hours at the range with me getting to work 1 on 1 with each of them on pistol technique.

I'm still wondering how 3 teens got up on a weekend without drama or the promise of an amusement park

Why not? My son hunts with mine; hasn't got a deer yet in 3 years of trying with it, but it's fun seeing that grin....

My dad, my uncle, and my cousin and I shooting a Mossberg .22 rifle over the frozen bay in December of 1954 on Cape Cod.
My dad and uncle were both WWII combat veterans, and we felt privileged to be included with the men.



Tinpig

The second day of shooting in Basic, before which I’d never shot anything, when it suddenly clicked and I knew it.

I took my son went shooting for the first time this summer. That was fun.

Notice how the common thread is family. The shooting sports bring us together, make us men, and create bonds and memories that last a lifetime. I remember hunting with my dog and my Lefever 16 gauge double barrel shotgun in the Tunica hills of Louisiana.....seems like yesterday ......Today at 58 years old I just put on Creedence Clearwater Revival "Green River" and wish for simpler days. ..........come on back to green river..........

Yup, so many good times with friends and family. Couple of my favorites...
I grew up on a shrimp farm, and we had birds that used to make a habit of pulling shrimp and prawns out to munch on.....and they were picky so only ate the best parts. We used to spend evening shooting at them, they were also pretty smart so learned our effective range with the .22.
Anyway one evening right at dusk my dad saw the gleem of ones eye (they glow red when hit with a light), in the truck lights about 6 ponds down, making it 250-300yds (you argue with him about seeing an eye at that distance). He asks for the gun, an old long tube marlin 60 with open sights, and squeeze off one round........after which the red glint disappears. He was very proud of himself, and we argued about wether he hit it or it flew off for the rest of the time we spent feeding the ponds.
On the way back to the house we stoped by the pond to see if he hit the bird and all we found was a red valve handle with a .22 hole right thru the top of it.

Another time my mom decided to come with me on one of my nightly patrols to keep the deer out of the ponds and off the water lines. She had my .22 that time and we walked up on a very nice buck, right behind our pump house. Which she promptly shot thru the heart at about 20yds, deer looked so surprised, he lifted one leg and had this perplexed look and fell over.....

There are so many other good times....sitting by myself at 10k feet on maunakea watching sheep, hunting with my wifes family for pigs and deer, going shotgunning, or chasing cows, or sheep, or pigs or or or, with the boys.

You know friend of mine asked why i dont take trophies.....those are my trophies