5 am yesterday I packed the back of the wellside with dry firewood and a heap of sausages in the back of the cab and off I went way up the road to pick up my new (to me) winnie in 300wsm. Before getting to the gate a porker goes trotting along the track, another lucky one, no rifle of course, can't carry them around in the vehicle in the big smoke. Give me back the good old days where I could wonder down Wills St with the old 303 over my shoulder.
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