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About 12 years back now, we went out to shoot with a close friend and he produced a Ruger P90, which I ridiculed him for, he lives in hunting country, why would anyone need a handgun up there???? I shot it, and I could literally hit the letters out of beer cans, no crap. I bought one and I can still hit at least the can. A great purchase and I'd do it again! It's not exactly a 1911, but it's an easy shooter that feels good in the hand. The only other one would be my wife's model 66, a natural shooter that can remove eye-lashes from cockroaches in DA!
 

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They're all special, to me. I don't buy a gun unless I intend to keep it. Can you imagine that? Even if it turns out I don't particularly like shooting it, I keep it. I haven't sold a gun in more'n twenty years. I've given a few away to friends and family, but I don't sell nothin'.

Some guns are perennial favorites, though. Like pre-64 Model 70 & 94 Winchesters, Model 99 & 23 Savages, Model 12 Winchesters, Model 72 & 62 Winchesters, Model 11, 11-48 & 870 Remingtons, A-5 Brownings. Any military surplus rifle based on the Mauser action.

Colt SAA revolvers, Colt 1911 semi-autos, Colt OMM revolvers, Colt New Service revolvers and the occasional S&W. Especially the K-22 rimfires.

I'm a Colt kinda guy that got into collecting K-22 revolvers. 'Sides, collecting 1911s and New Service revolvers got a little too pricey. If yuh know what I mean.

Anyway, my most favorite K-22 revolvers are my birth year guns. I have three of them. Neat, sweet and fun to shoot. Kinda cool shooting a gun that came along about the same time you did. Even better if it looks and is in better shape than you. In my case that don't take a Hell of a lot. ;)

The Remington 550 puts a smile on my face, so does the Winchester 74. I guess those are my two favorite .22 rifles. In fact, the Remington was the first semi-auto .22 I bought. My bestest friend in the whole world had one and could out shoot me six days a week and twice on Sunday. You'd be surprized how fast I can pump that old 62A. Didn't matter, though. Edmo* could blast them runnin' jacks before I could get three shots off.

I had to have one, so I saved up my pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters and hied me off to the local gun shop in Pocatello and bought it. It didn't take me long, I beat up the suckers at school and took their lunch money. Not really oja;n , it was a pair of loaded dice and a marked deck. Selling cigarettes one at a time helped, too. But it was selling the French postcards that put me over the top. Those were the good old days. You ever wonder how much a kid could make shooting jackrabbits at a nickel for a pair of ears? Me too. That's why I beat up those jokers and took their lunch money.



*Edmo. Don't ask, it was just some ***** name. At the time I didn't know enough to ask. Now, I don't give a sh*t.
 
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