The Old Man Would Be Proud

[octagon]

The wind howled for three of four days that we spent at the home place, as it tends to do. Our plan was to do a bunch of shooting and do a few chores, but the wind dictated otherwise - chores were the order of the day, although pleasant chores to be sure. Dad and I talked many times of building a shooting range across the wheat patch, with 410yards available, but with lots of work to do, we never got around to it. Dad passed away four years ago, so a while back the Boy and I started bulding a heavy bench to accommodate three shooters. We got it built, and planned to finish it, tightening it up and making it solid on this trip.

The first afternoon out, we decided to drive around and see how many animals we could add to our list. We usually do a day and a night run, and try to see something new, and we were not disappointed.
Coming around a sharp corner we saw a bobcat step out in front of the noisy diesel about 25 yards away and walk in front of us as though he were hard of hearing like myself. We followed along for about 20 seconds and he finally turned around and seeing us, hightailed it through the fence. We followed quickly and barreled though a mud puddle sending water 20 feet high, adding to the excitement for the Boy who was hanging on wide eyed. We saw many Hawks, and cottontails that day, and an owl that evening after we cooked up some ribs with cold potato salad.

After a lot of ranch chores we worked on the shooting bench and got it solid as a rock, and we're rewarded the last morning when the wind laid down finally so we could shoot. We brought out an old Rem Model 700 in 22-250 with fixed four power, and having forgot the bench rest gear, we folded up our jackets and got ready. As always, the Boy rattled off the safety rules before we started. I had a 270 A bolt and it shot well as usual with 130 core Lokt. We also tried the Sig M400 with open sights at 50 and had fun with it, trying various 55 and 75 grain ammo in 223 and 5.56. The real fun started when the Boy got serious about beating the old man, with the model 700. Shooting 55grain core lokt, the boy posted a tight group that looked good through the spotting scope. We walked out to the 100 yard target and looked with smiles as the Boy said to break out the change and see if we could cover the group with a dime, nickel etc. I said I had no change and we would have to check it later, when we got home. He said to take it like a man, and give him the change, so I did. The boy smiled as he watched me cover the three small holes with a dime, and punched me on the shoulder, a smile growing on his 13 year old face. He had beat the old dude at last, and with no sense of graciousness what so ever, poked me in the chest a little. My old Dad would be proud of this Boy, accomplishing this shooting goal on the range we built in his Honor: the Deadeye Range.

[Blaine]

Great Story.

[gamekeeper]

Great Story.

+ 1.....

[RustyJr]

Goodread

RustyJr

[Griff]

Great Story.

+ 1.....

+2.

[octagon]

Thanks guys, I'm glad you enjoyed the story. The Boy has turned out to be a shooter, and I figured the little fella (5'11") deserved something cool under the tree this AM. His eyes got wide when he saw the minty 1934 Remington model 34 .22 rifle with a bow around the barrel. I got this gun at the Llano gun show a few years back, planning to cut the stock for him. I could not bring myself cut a gun that was so minty, but he is plenty tall enough, and responsible enough to have a .22 to call his own. He is learning to whistle up rabbits, and soon he will encounter my one bullet, one match test at the home place. A test for any young man that is a tradition in my family.