First time I shot a 25-06 was over the way from where I'm sitting now, quite a long time ago now.
Mate pitches up with a new T3.
What's that? I say.
Twenty five aught six.
Oh. Is that really necessary?
Don't worry bout it.
He says ooohh, there's a hare.
Where?
Over there, 450ish metres.
Crikey.
Some range finding and mucking around with rests and then....
BANG
The whole fucking neighbourhood heard that shot and probably saw the red mist hare explosion. They'd only just damn well gotten used to me with a .22LR FFS.
I never really forgave him for that.
But it was funny.
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