In 1957 when I was five years old I begged mom and dad to let me go out with dad hunting ducks. I was a tough sale, dad didn't know how to swim and nearly drown a couple of years before and mom instilled a great fear of water in us kids that lasts until this very day!
Dad grew up on Reeds Lake near Waterville, MN. and new everyone one the lake at the time. Everyone was a neighboring farmer and let him hunt anytime and when we would go, the neighbors enjoyed chatting so much with him I usually wondered if the season would be over by the time we got out to hunt.
On my first time along we went in on Leo Lymm's farm, across the lake from my grandparents place. It was quite cold that morning and mom had me buckled up with homemade clothes including two handknit sweaters that were way too big for me, but, I would grow into later. As we walked down the hill to the duck blind I could see a red spot in the darkness near the lake. It turns out Grandpa Frank and Uncle Bill were already situated and puffing away on their Camels and keeping a watch for ducks. Back in those days shooting was not allowed until sunrise, but, the sky was full of ducks already. The thing I remember so distinctly is the continuous flow of V-shaped wedges flying South as you looked for the rising sun. To this day, I have never seen as many as I did that day. A short time later a big tall fella came walking over the hill towards the blind. Now dad was 6'1" tall and this guy was much bigger. I later learn it is my cousin Roger whom I now see quite regularly. The instructions were simple, stay down and don't get up until the shooting stops. Which is what I did. We had a grand time, the B.S. flowed as if the Spring rains had overflowed the banks of the Mississippi. The shooting was fast and furious and by the time everybody was ready to head in a get ready for church they all had their limits. Grandpa had a Remington Model 10 that was later stolen. Dad and cousin Roger had Winchester Model 1912s and Uncle Bill had a Stevens SXS. Every gun was a 12 gauge, so no one would get the wrong shells. The ammo was Remington and Peters highbase. And in those days you didn't have the grocery store choice of paper or plastic!
When I turned 14 dad got me a Mossberg 500 20 gauge that I shot so much, I plum wore it out.
In the 1970's I got acquainted with a fellow that frequented at dad's gas station by the name of Buzz. It turns out that Buzz was a Browning sales representative that covered five states here in the midwest and he grew up in Montana. When ever Buzz and I went pheasant hunting, he would insist on me leaving the Mossberg in the case because, "Being a Browning Rep. I won't be caught within 500 feet of one those things!" I always had the pick of his sales samples. While there were many to choose from I usually took the Superposed Superlight 20. Eventually Buzz quit working for Browning and moved back to Montana and I was lucky enough to shoot the 2nd Nimrod Shoot at Polson on his squad some years back with a Model 21 20 gauge. We had a small wager on the side just to make it interesting. Of coarse, being from Minnesota I couldn't offer Super Bowl tickets, so, I put up 25 pounds of lutefisk, he beat me by 1!
Now, I really don't know when I was hooked on doubles, because I have always liked them since I saw the one my namesake carried when I was a young kid. It may have been then, if not, Buzz set the hook! After buying a Browning A-5 20 Magnum, my next purchase was a BS/S 20 gauge with 26" barrels.
That first encounter with a SXS was 56 years ago. Uncle Bill, well he was a WW I Vet, as was Grandpa Frank. Cousin Roger is still around and my old friend Buzz is still in Montana, and It turns out Buzz likes the SXS too and we talk quite often. The names on the dogs have changed as have my shooting skills and my age, but, If you guys keep posting this stuff to keep me entertained, I won't forget what it is like to hunt with good dogs, good friends and a good double gun.
