Joed,
I have to confess the 22lr is far and away my favorite cartridge. The 22 long rifle was like a right of passage for me when I was a kid. It was my first "real " gun.
My dad started me out with a lever action cork gun to teach me how to be safe with muzzle direction etc. Later moved moved me up to BB gun and then the day finally came my dad handed me an Ithica model 49 falling block single shot 22 .
I thought I had finally joined the ranks. I now could now go hunting just like my big brothers. Across the pasture hop the creek and into the hardwoods I would stalk the mighty North Georgia fox squirrels. The most worthy adversary an 8 year old boy could have.
The Fox squirrel would not fall easy prey, but surely I was ready. After all I had dispatched countless Dr.Pepper cans from nearly every fence post on the farm. I would learn to be stealthy enough to take down the wary Crow, and one day I would be big enough to take the mighty 30-30 into the woods all by myself and bring back a deer just like my dad and brothers. ( Ah to relive the daydreams of a 8 year old boy)
Not long after I would look at the Sears catalog or the shelves at the Western Auto hardware store and dream of a Marlin 39a or a model 60. As I got older I was able to shovel stalls and bale hay for neighbors. As a kid/ young man I was able to buy some of my dream rifles, but most I would not be able to afford until years later after my own children were through college.
Now I am able to go out and seek out older rimfires that I wanted as a kid, and the best part is getting to work with my grandsons teaching them to safely enjoy them. Needless to say they have become lever action junkies. Wonder where they get that from?
Even the smell of spent 22 shell casings bring back memories of my dad standing behind me reminding me to line up the front post and the rear buckhorn while picking off green husked black walnuts from the tree limbs. Maybe that's the appeal of plinking with rimfires they remind me of being a carefree kid.
Maybe shooting 50+ year old rimfires reminds me of how lucky I was to have a World War Two Marine Corps veteran standing right there offering guidance,safety, and encouragement. After all if the man could shoot well enough to survive Guam, Boganville, and Iwo Jima surely he could teach a 7 year old boy how to shoot well enough to survive the dreaded North Georgia fox squirrel.
Thanks for the trip down memory lane fellas,
Tentwing