I have quite a few expensive guns, and I feel blessed to have had the resources during my life to be able to afford them. I have NEVER looked "down" at anyone, at any time, for what they bring to the range. If they are in the lane next to mine, then we are sharing our love of the sport...shooting.....and what you bring to the range really doesn't matter to me as long as it's safe.
One of my favorite rifles is a Remington 341 .22lr that my Dad got for me when I was a kid. He traded a saddle for it, if I recall correctly, and the original stock was missing and had been replaced with a homemade version that was somewhat less than elegant !!! It had some ejection problems.....to get it to eject a spent shell you really had to "snap" the bolt rearwards, and sometimes even then it wouldn't turn loose, and you would have to pry the empty out with your finger. The front sight had a bad habit of falling off, too, but I never lost it. I just wish I had a dollar for every time I put it back on!!
Through the years, I added a decal from my high school to the stock, and a Hodgdon Powder sticker someone gave me.
That rifle and I just clicked....I could hit anything with it that I could see. I used to shoot pennies and dimes with it...I would lean them up against a stump and back up until I could just barely see them anymore, then nail them right in the center. I would bring the punched-out coins to school to show everyone what a great shot I was.
Then, there was the time.....I might have been ten or eleven...that my father, my great uncle, and I were walking a pasture on my great Uncle's farm. We were on high ground on a rolling hill and looking down at his stock pond. Great Uncle says,"Looka there.....damned snake", and was pointing down towards the pond. You had to squint to see it, but sure enough there was a snake of some sort swimming across the pond. I asked if I could shoot it, and I saw my great uncle wink at my Dad when he told me to go ahead. I took aim...waited...waited...led him a little bit...waited.......held my breath, led him just a tad more......then POP!!! I saw the splash at the head and the snake rolled over, motionless, exposing his white underbelly. I remember how proud I was...my Dad and great uncle were staring at each other....speechless.
What great memories I have of that old rifle, but to see it today, you'd turn your head and laugh.
That's why I don't judge. Maybe there is a story behind that gun, or maybe the guy shooting that wonky pistol saved up for three years, working two jobs and raising four kids, to buy it, just for love of the sport.
Who am I to turn my nose up at anybody?
DD