When he gets in the ain’t much left mood, waterfowl closed, deer seasons over, he never was one for snowshoe hare hunting and a long stroll through a ten above snowy woods, ends his grouse season, he quit trapping years ago, and a caveat here is the ice is still definitely sketchy. Well, in full disclosure, we both broke out the Hoppes number 9. You open your brand-new bottle, the tonic elixir effect is quite quick on me, and yes I use more than I should, the rags soak up my generosity on the cold metal, feels smooth oily, yup like it, the slippery gloss, its all good sliding down a set of side by side on a 12, the action on my model 94 30- 30 and my wife’s bolt 270 were a bit sticky, it’s been soothingly solvented away.
It’s sitting in a chair, gabbing about some of our good old days, and like a man Nick once told me said, ya never forget the missed shots. My pal tells the best one ever about a massive black bear, it’s pretty funny, but he got bear fever so bad he cranked three unshot perfectly good rounds out of the gun without ever firing a shot. We both laugh, he lets the oil in his fingers soothe it a bit before always adding that he was positive it woulda been the new state record.
He has a set of .410s, one long rifle .22 and a .22 pistol that he is bringing a clean shine back to. We both, at certain times, hold the open barrels to the overhead light to make sure the barrel bores are polished clean, meeting one’s approval then snap the stock crisp feeling, very nice. On to the next one.
- The Trout Whisperer
