Good Ole Fashion Giveaway - Winners Posted

[Grain]

One of my favorite moment's was buying a S&W 422 handgun at the Swift Current gun show. I carried it from the dealer over to a desk that was manned by a couple RCMP officers from the local detachment. They took down the serial #, looked at my FAC, and sent me on my way home with 'have a nice day', handgun in hand. The good old days...

[Blackblur]

I just recently took a person in there 40's who is a vegetarian who has never shot a gun before to the range and we shot pistols a AR15 and a gsg-16 we had a blast and we took out every packet of ooze on that angry gorilla target with the gsg. By the next time we saw each other they gave me a bag game style targets a gift card and a pack of bass pro shop licorice. (And the better half said they were running around like a little kid with cash at a candy store saying I can't wait till next time)

[MarkR]

My most memorable event was when I was about 12 or 13 (almost 50 years ago) We were no strangers to guns and had access to black powder ($5.00/lb at Taylor's Store in Sebringville Ontario. We had built a couple muzzle loading cannons in my cousins fabrication shop and to date, the largest was 1" pipe, all were fired successfully and a lot of fun so... we decided to go bigger. We found a piece of 2" seamless pipe about 30" long; welded a breach block in; had a piece of steel tubing that was a light drive fit over it and we reinforced about 16" of the breach area with this, then welded an external breach block over the original for extra strength. We drilled in a touch-hole, and counter sunk it to hold some powder for priming. It had a couple of pieces of 3/8" rod welded to it so it pointed about 50 or 60 degrees in the air.

We needed a projectile; the week before we had been firing wheel-nuts through an old, derelict Plymouth car ('61?) with our 1" cannon, and recalled it had bullet shaped rubber hard stops on the front end suspension. We got one of those. It was too big to fit so we took it over to the course emery stone and ground it down.

We loaded it with about a half ounce (by volume) FFFg; drove in two pages of crumpled newspaper for a wad, then drove the bullet shaped piece of rubber against the wad with a piece of 1 1/4" pipe and a 2 1/2 lb hand sledge.

We primed it, cast lots, and I got the honors of touching it off. Used a broom handle wrapped in wired on rag on the end, soaked in diesel fuel.

Judas, Larry and Hosepipe, what a noise! Spruce boughs and one limb fell out of one of trees behind the welding shop; one of the windows was broken from the concussion, and our ears were ringing (mine still do; a bit of a legacy).

The branch on the ground was between 4 or 5" in diameter, but torn like like it was ripped off.

...and did we ever get schidt!

We were forbidden from building more cannons, and were limited to only "real" guns by our parents from that day forward.

Other than my hearing (and there are other contributing factors, I can assure you) no humans, and only one tree was injured.

BTW, the sharp edges on a wheel nut help them go through and through an old Plymouth better than a 2 3/4" 12 ga. slug.

These events all took place in a small village (not on our farm) in southern Ontario. No one called the cops either. Good times!!!

[Waterloomike]

I rented a villa out that way on a garlic farm. Nice area. Saw turkeys and deer. No cannons.

[effy55]

My favorite firearm was buying my first handgun. Going into a gun store for the first time in my life and choosing the handgun that I wanted to start my new hobby with was such a pleasant experience.

[Bizzle]

Love sharing the joy of responsible firearms ownership.
My daughter sitting on my lap and taking her first shot down range was something special. But I have to say my favorite moment is when I took the family camping. Once camp was set up, I safely handed my daughter over her air rifle. She looked at me and called out attention to her perfect trigger finger control. I am so proud that she has absorbed everything she has been taught. Her hitting all the fun zombie targets was a bonus! Could not be more proud.

[Stephen]

Last hunting season I shot a three point mule deer while my dad watched from his van. I was using his rem 700 he bought when he was younger than I am. I didn't know at the time but thay was the last deer we would shoot together before he passed away.

It's not the best biggest buck I've shot but it's the most sentimental now.

[Waterloomike]

Thanks for sharing that story.

[Rory McCanuck]

Mods must tell us their most embarrassing firearms moment (nothing illegal) to enter.

Not all of it is firearms related, but there certainly enough egg on my face I might as well include it all.


I don't have a single most embarrassing moment, but a series of mishaps that constitute my worst hunting season ever.

Last spring I bought a Thompson Center Hawken, 50 cal, octagonal barrel, set triggers, quite a nice gun.
Take it to range, shoot it several times, 90grs seems to be accurate, ready to go hunting.
Three quarters of an hour after getting out to the stand along comes a nice 3x3 buck, maybe 60 yards.
"Pop" What the hell?
Buck runs away, I put on another cap, try again,"Pop."
Turns out the nipple was fouled up enough it was plugged.

Because the Hawken was out of action, I took out my buddy's Savage he'd bought in the spring.
Really nice, stainless, laminated thumbhole stock, Accu-Trigger...
Same blind, but from the other direction, the biggest buck I have ever seen while hunting.
Forty yards away, strolling along the path, showing off that great big rack.
Heart's thumping pretty good, get the gun out the window, line up, "CLICK!"
Oh boy oh boy, he hasn't run away, re-cock it, "CLICK!"
Watch his ears twitch, my own ears are twitching from the blood pounding in them, but he's giving me another chance!
Re-cock, re-aim, "CLICK!"
By now the smell of the smoke coming from my ears has reached him, and he trots off into the hollow.
I sit fuming, debating whether our friendship would stand me wrapping my buddy's rifle around a tree, when the buck
comes back up out of the hollow to see what all the muttering is about.
"CLICK!" Re-cock, "CLICK!" by which time frustration wins out and I scream out "FU**!!!" at the top of my voice.
That chased him off, I leave the blind at 3:30 and walk back to the truck, muttering and swearing all the way.

Turns out, the Accu-Trigger, if turned down light enough, will fire without the safety lever/tab thingy being depressed all the way.
If the lever isn't depressed all the way the sear catches on the safety, preventing the firing pin from striking.
With my small hands and the Savage's big grip, I couldn't pull the trigger back completely straight while sitting
at the funny angle in the blind.
The parts for the Accu-Trigger are now in a baggy in a drawer in my bench.

General season opens and my buddy comes out first day.
Walk him to his blind, tell him there's a lot of deer, he doesn't have to shoot the first thing he sees.
I make the 5 minute walk to my blind, open the door and don't even get sat down, "Bang!"
He apologises but says he couldn't pass up the great big doe.
She's pretty big alright, and at least we didn't get skunked.

The next afternoon we're leaving the truck laughing and giggling like a couple of teenage girls about some story.
Same thing, walk him to his blind, walk 5 minutes more to mine, get in, sit down, and get set up.
Same path the the monster buck was on, but walking the other direction is a 4x4.
I fight with the window a bit because it's sticking, bang my rifle on the frame getting it out the window, and the buck is now just getting into the thick of of the bush.
Don't care, there's still a clear path, pull the trigger, "Click."
Me screaming "FU**" at the top of my lungs sets his tail on fire as he runs away.

Turns out I didn't have a round in the chamber as the Remington pump is quite fussy about that first round.
If the mag isn't in all the way, or isn't quite straight, or if Saturn is in ascension in Capricorn or something,
it sometimes just won't pick up the first round.
The second is always fine, and I check every time I chamber the first one, but I guess I didn't in the midst of a good tale when leaving the truck.

Played hide and seek for half an hour with a buck through 50 yards of bush in that hollow that the monster disappeared into, never did get a shot off.

After my buddy went home to Winnipeg I decided to try out his blind.
I hung my rifle by the sling on the provided hook while I climbed up.
I get to the top, grab my sling, and the top swivel picks that moment to disconnect.
Gun swings down, butt at the end of the sling at the end of my arm, now the muzzle is moving in an arc at just about the speed of sound.
It crashes into the blind's support arm with enough noise to wake the dead.
Pull everything up into the blind re-attach the sling, check the gun over, not a mark.

Don't get another shot all season, so I go to bring the blinds home.
Get the first one home no problem.
Go to get mine, but the snow is that mushy stuff that won't compact and won't give your vehicle much traction, only thing to do is keep the speed up.
Barreling down the path, all is going well but I forgot about that one poplar that hangs over the path.
If you stick to the east side of the path, no problem, but squirting around, I ventured over to the west side.
Bang, crash, roof of the blind hits the tree, blind rips off the wagon and falls onto the trail.
Disconnect the wagon, go home, have a stiff drink, maybe several.

The next day I go out, take the roof and door off, push the blind back onto the wagon, strap it down and drag it home.
Take my trailer out to get the roof, door, insulation and all the other crap that spread itself all over God's green acre when the explosion occured.
Wind is blowing ferociously and I notice it's taking a lot of throttle to counteract it on the trip home.
The Raider is basically a parachute, so this isn't so out of the ordinary.
I get to the corner 50 feet from my property and the engine dies.
Disconnect the trailer and wheel it home by hand, push the truck home and into the garage, and pull the dipstick.
Oh dear, I don't think the oil is supposed to be white.
Holding it to the pin dragging wagons and trailers through the mushy snow was just too much for it and cracked the head. Again.


That was the first year I've ever been happy that hunting season was over.

[Lazagna]

My favorite firearms moment. in November 2015, my father passed away and I was helping my mother clean out the house in preparation for her to move in with my sister. Up to this point, I has been under the impression that my fathers firearms had been stolen and not replaced. Little did I know that he still had them all. I was ecstatic that I was going to be able to keep them, once I had secured my PAL, which I did in March of 2016. I inherited my fathers 1981 Air Rifle, 1981 Cooey Single Barrel Break Action 12ga shotgun, 1918 303 Lee Enfield Sporterized rifle, and a brand new, never fired Ruger 10/22. Best firearms moment of my life!