Out hunting Saturday in my "new" 1953 M38A1. First thing I notice is how rough she rides even on not-so-bumpy roads. When I get to the really rough rock crawling section of the road/trail my sons yell, "Hey, dad, your gun!" I look back in horror to see my H&R .308 laying on the rocks. Seems one bump was just too big and my gun rack didn't hold. After a close inspection it appears as if it landed muzzle straight down and had two scratches on the Swift scope. *$#@!*
Made it up over the rocky section to a place I could test fire. Two shots at about 80 yards right where I was aiming. Confidence coming back.
Later in the day I was trying to keep my 3 and 5 year old sons quiet in the blind. Saw a couple of small bucks that my sons instructed me to, "Shoot it!" I did my best to explain that they need to grow up a little before we shoot them. I was also trying to get them to realize that we don't just shoot the first thing that appears. After about an hour they were getting mighty fidgety. Out hops a jackrabbit at about 120 yards. I ask (already knowing their answer) if I should shoot the rabbit. One shot, one dead rabbit. Confidence fully restored in rifle and scope. And now she has a couple of battle scars.
