Heers wut ya git!

Pull up a seat and read a little. If you are from WV you are probably like me and have never learned to read so get someone to read it to you. I'm Skully, my friend Mike listens to me and translates my words from Hickglish to English. He is familiar with the ways of folks from other areas, and can communicate readily with the general populace.
(Fetch ya a char an lisen ta wuts heer. If’n yer frum West Verginua yu r proly lak me an ain’t had no reedin ejukashun so git sumbudy to reed it to ya. I’m Skully, ma frend Mak lisens ta mee an translates ma werds frum normul to wut them thar hi falootin peepole talks. He nows how to talk to outciders an can speek thar langwige.)

Friday, April 30, 2010

Your Rifle Scope Costs Too Damn Much!

My first scope was a Tasco "Pronghorn", 3-9X40 sitting proudly atop my newly purchased Marlin, lever action 30-30. I thought, after I got married and purchased my first home, that I would indulge myself in, and begin what I am so happy to say has become as much a part of life as wearing clothes...hunting.

Before then I'd always used iron sights, just like I did hunting squirrels illegally with my Daisy and my Crossman 30+ years ago at the city park. I was 12 and had friends that lived up on the hills of my home town. These were more well-to-do people than I was accustomed to; they had huge houses and nice cars, but when it came down to it, they bled red in a bike wreck the same as I did.

They lived in little subdivisions cut into the hills on the south side of a huge valley that was halved by a good sized river. It ran into the Ohio on its journey to the Mississippi, to the gulf and on -- on forward into the world, and around it and back again then evaporated by hot days and rained back to earth in torrents! The grand cycle never completes, but lives on eternal!

We used to hunt squirrel in the city park. We'd build a big fire after school in the woods and go in search of furry dinner. Cigarettes, cigars chew and on rare occasions samples of one friends, father's 90 year old Scotch from a 7 gallon oak cask. We would steal a little, then top the barrel with Jim Beam and the like that could be had by paying high-school kids 20 bucks for a 3 dollar pint of booze. I remember just chugging and chasing it with Mountain Dew...what a WASTE!! I remember that there was a nutty taste and it was smooth...I have since paid dearly for such scotch...ah, I digress...

After school we would take to the woods with our iron sighted .177 cal tools of survival! Fire building was another "big deal" that was almost a ceremony or right of passage. Everyone made the fire, everyone cleaned the squirrels, everyone took part in the rite of passage required of youth. But only David B.... ate squirrel nuts! I laugh even today. Some 30 years later the memory is as if it happened last weekend. We were roasting our kill and parceling out the culinary rewards when it was made clear to the cooks that testicular adventures were afoot. A stick with the sqwak nads dangling was presented first to the fire, then to the unsuspecting youth, who ate with glee!

An event that provides laughter for 30 years should be celebrated and shared with anyone in proximity. (that means you guys...)

What I really meant to point out is that the 50-60 dollar Tasco 3-9x40 scope that has adorned several rifles with which I have harvested a good many deer, cannot be inferior to 300 and 500 dollar scopes. I cannot see how anything more could be needed than a good AFFORDABLE scope that doesn't cost as much as the rifle. Let it be known that I speak of shots of 200 yards and less but I have never had any problems with the "cheap" scopes.

How 'bout you?

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