Wayne in BC
New member
During the late 60's and through to the 80's i was enamored of handguns, all sorts of them but mostly big ones.
In this country handguns have been restricted since the early 1930's and you have to jump through hoops to get one. Criminal record check, references, etc. I did all the paperwork and began to acquire the "toys" that i wanted, all the time claiming that i was interested in collecting them and being a member of a target shooting gun club, ( a requisite for ownership of a hand gun).
Things changed in the late 80's and i began to be less interested because of the increasing restrictions and just ordinary lack of interest setting in and i sold 5 of my handguns.
I and numerous friends had for years carried large caliber pistols while in the wilderness, mostly because they were easier to carry than a rifle but trust me, even a .44 magnum is a last resort weapon when you are facing a Grizzly, an angry Moose, or even a Cougar.
A large caliber rifle with 200+ grain bullets is much better. I also often carried a .22 pistol mostly for grouse, squirrels, and other camp meat, a Ruger single six convertible .22/.22magnum which i purchased in 1972. I always liked this tough little pistol, accurate and dependable, it was my favorite. My girls learned to shoot a handgun with it and it slew many gophers and other varmints around the stump ranch.
About a dozen years ago our "nanny state" liberal government created a new firearms registry which would of course solve all gun crimes...D'OH! They included rifles as well handguns. The rifle bit was a new thing but as i have said, the handguns had always been registered with the RCMP. Well, i got a letter from the idiots right off, saying that i had to re-register my pistol and pay a bunch of money for the privilege! (i had long since sold the other pistols) I replied to them that i knew a place that they could shove their "new" registry and by return mail got a less polite letter.
I was really po-ed because that little Ruger had serious sentimental value and i sure liked having it around for .....er.... never mind
So ticked was i that i marched down to the RCMP division office and told them i was surrendering a handgun for destruction. No problem they said, it was in their records and would i like to bring it in? If so they would give me a permit to convey it to the detachment
which is what you must have to transport your handgun or you can have a permit to go to the gun club at a specified time, like right down to the minute!
I said no thanks, you come and get it, so they said an officer would be out that afternoon. I drove home too fast, garbbed my pet Ruger and stomped out to the shop where i put it in the vise and proceeded to make a bunch of small pieces of it with a hacksaw, leaving only the serial number intact. Then i placed it in a ziplock bag which Carol gave to the surprised and confused young Cop who came.......
I continued to ignore the gun registry retards as they sent me ever increasingly agitated letters about my, now illegal, according to them, handgun! Crap! They finally gave up and i have not heard from them for several years, i have been waiting for the idiots to send the Cops to my door so i could show them the receipt for destruction
They had told me that they had no dealings with the RCMP (liars!) when i first told them it was already registered...... All this brilliance on the governments part and it only cost us about 2 BILLION dollars for this travesty! The best part is that gun crime has gone up a whole bunch and virtually none of it committed with "legal" guns!
Now i will tell you why this little Ruger was so special. I know that the life that i and my friends/partners lived seems kinda wild to some, even unbelievable at times, but i tell you in all sincerity that these stories are true and that many i know have more exciting tales to tell. We merely happened to live a life by accident of birth, and necessity of survival that seems quite foreign to those who did not live in our world. Ordinary folk with some luck but i will admit that had i been born down south a ways i likely would have been dead from some goofy thing... "Thunder Road" was a fav movie
About 60 miles West of Red Deer in central Alberta is a wonderful wild mountain river known as the Clearwater. It headwaters near the edge of Banff national Park and i had hunted, fished, and enjoyed it for many years. This trip however was just fishing and my buddy and i were looking for the big Brown Trout that lived in the lower reaches, the last 10 miles before it dumps into the Saskatchewan River at the historic town of Rocky Mountain House.
We had a 10 ft fibreglass dingy and planned to float that last 10 miles of river this day, happily dropping flies into backwaters and pockets in anticipation of the big Browns, some nearly 10 lbs. We took two trucks, parking one at the take out point then motoring back over the nasty old road to put in. The river here is much tamer than its upper reaches so with some care, a small boat is fine, all wild country though and one must be careful, i brought the .22 Ruger with the magnum cylinder in, not because i was expecting trouble. more likely hoping to get a shot at a Grouse for dinner.
For the first couple miles we caught many small trout, one handling the oars while the other fished. The water being a bit too swift and tricky to just float. We had come to a sweeping left hand bend in fairly calm water and were both fishing when i looked ahead to see a very large Black bear standing at the base of a steep 12 ft bank right at the inside of the bend which we would be almost brushing past in a few moments.
I was not alarmed and almost casually mentioned to my buddy Wes, hey, lookit the bear! He looked over his shoulder and said, ya big one, oh shite! A cub! Sure enough the cub stood right in front of her, momentarily invisible in front of the sow. Just then she heard us talking and stood up with a startled WHUFF! Wes who had dropped the oars knew we were drifting towards trouble and scrambled to grab them and pull us out from the bank but we were real close now and the sow was getting quite po-ed, bouncing up and down while showing teeth. It did not look like we would pass more than 10 feet from the bears and i reached for the Ruger.....
I had no intention shooting the stupid bear and told Wes i would spook her, hurry up he said! Kablam! Water kicked up right in front of her and she swapped ends, heading up the bank with the cub close behind, then turned, growling and came back down! I fired twice more into the mud below her feet and she changed her mind, going back up the bank and behind some serviceberry bushed as we came with 8 ft of the bank with Wes pulling mightily at the oars. That was a relief! Black bears are inclined to mostly bluff but must not be trusted when cubs are involved.
I was relieved as we passed right next to where the bears had been and because she had disappeared so close to us i still held the pistol at the ready. Good thing i did because suddenly her head and shoulders came out of the brush above us and she was popping her jaws loudly as she fixed to drop down. My hand raised and i barely aimed, the pistol recoiled and a large black bundle came down the bank and splashed the water 5 ft behind us! Pandemonium for a moment as i turned sideways ready to fire again and scared half to death!
Wes was still rowing and cursing as i held the gun awkwardly over my left shoulder. The bear never moved and was floating dead as a stone behind us. It took a bit for us to settle down and go to shore. We walked up a ways and looked at the bear who had grounded on the shore. One small hole just above the eyes told the tale and my buddy was telling me how good a shot i was and i said BS! I just fired and that was dumb luck! Now we had a problem though, the Cub. It was standing at the top of the bank looking confused and i suddenly felt like crap!
We were both mighty sorry about it but the Cub would simply not survive and we did what was necessary.......
Little .22's are more than enough and i hated to to let the Ruger go. My buddy now has the holster and i am glad it will get used. Dam all left wing governments and their stupid beurocrats.
Post script.........
What i did not tell you is that after the proverbial smoke cleared, my buddy started giving me grief for shooting the bear! He was plenty scared but his second thoughts caused a bit of an argument about if it had been necessary and he finally acknowledged that things happened to fast to be sure and better to be wrong and lucky than dead!.....
In this country handguns have been restricted since the early 1930's and you have to jump through hoops to get one. Criminal record check, references, etc. I did all the paperwork and began to acquire the "toys" that i wanted, all the time claiming that i was interested in collecting them and being a member of a target shooting gun club, ( a requisite for ownership of a hand gun).
Things changed in the late 80's and i began to be less interested because of the increasing restrictions and just ordinary lack of interest setting in and i sold 5 of my handguns.
I and numerous friends had for years carried large caliber pistols while in the wilderness, mostly because they were easier to carry than a rifle but trust me, even a .44 magnum is a last resort weapon when you are facing a Grizzly, an angry Moose, or even a Cougar.
A large caliber rifle with 200+ grain bullets is much better. I also often carried a .22 pistol mostly for grouse, squirrels, and other camp meat, a Ruger single six convertible .22/.22magnum which i purchased in 1972. I always liked this tough little pistol, accurate and dependable, it was my favorite. My girls learned to shoot a handgun with it and it slew many gophers and other varmints around the stump ranch.
About a dozen years ago our "nanny state" liberal government created a new firearms registry which would of course solve all gun crimes...D'OH! They included rifles as well handguns. The rifle bit was a new thing but as i have said, the handguns had always been registered with the RCMP. Well, i got a letter from the idiots right off, saying that i had to re-register my pistol and pay a bunch of money for the privilege! (i had long since sold the other pistols) I replied to them that i knew a place that they could shove their "new" registry and by return mail got a less polite letter.
I was really po-ed because that little Ruger had serious sentimental value and i sure liked having it around for .....er.... never mind
So ticked was i that i marched down to the RCMP division office and told them i was surrendering a handgun for destruction. No problem they said, it was in their records and would i like to bring it in? If so they would give me a permit to convey it to the detachmentwhich is what you must have to transport your handgun or you can have a permit to go to the gun club at a specified time, like right down to the minute!
I said no thanks, you come and get it, so they said an officer would be out that afternoon. I drove home too fast, garbbed my pet Ruger and stomped out to the shop where i put it in the vise and proceeded to make a bunch of small pieces of it with a hacksaw, leaving only the serial number intact. Then i placed it in a ziplock bag which Carol gave to the surprised and confused young Cop who came.......
I continued to ignore the gun registry retards as they sent me ever increasingly agitated letters about my, now illegal, according to them, handgun! Crap! They finally gave up and i have not heard from them for several years, i have been waiting for the idiots to send the Cops to my door so i could show them the receipt for destruction
They had told me that they had no dealings with the RCMP (liars!) when i first told them it was already registered...... All this brilliance on the governments part and it only cost us about 2 BILLION dollars for this travesty! The best part is that gun crime has gone up a whole bunch and virtually none of it committed with "legal" guns!
Now i will tell you why this little Ruger was so special. I know that the life that i and my friends/partners lived seems kinda wild to some, even unbelievable at times, but i tell you in all sincerity that these stories are true and that many i know have more exciting tales to tell. We merely happened to live a life by accident of birth, and necessity of survival that seems quite foreign to those who did not live in our world. Ordinary folk with some luck but i will admit that had i been born down south a ways i likely would have been dead from some goofy thing... "Thunder Road" was a fav movie
About 60 miles West of Red Deer in central Alberta is a wonderful wild mountain river known as the Clearwater. It headwaters near the edge of Banff national Park and i had hunted, fished, and enjoyed it for many years. This trip however was just fishing and my buddy and i were looking for the big Brown Trout that lived in the lower reaches, the last 10 miles before it dumps into the Saskatchewan River at the historic town of Rocky Mountain House.
We had a 10 ft fibreglass dingy and planned to float that last 10 miles of river this day, happily dropping flies into backwaters and pockets in anticipation of the big Browns, some nearly 10 lbs. We took two trucks, parking one at the take out point then motoring back over the nasty old road to put in. The river here is much tamer than its upper reaches so with some care, a small boat is fine, all wild country though and one must be careful, i brought the .22 Ruger with the magnum cylinder in, not because i was expecting trouble. more likely hoping to get a shot at a Grouse for dinner.
For the first couple miles we caught many small trout, one handling the oars while the other fished. The water being a bit too swift and tricky to just float. We had come to a sweeping left hand bend in fairly calm water and were both fishing when i looked ahead to see a very large Black bear standing at the base of a steep 12 ft bank right at the inside of the bend which we would be almost brushing past in a few moments.
I was not alarmed and almost casually mentioned to my buddy Wes, hey, lookit the bear! He looked over his shoulder and said, ya big one, oh shite! A cub! Sure enough the cub stood right in front of her, momentarily invisible in front of the sow. Just then she heard us talking and stood up with a startled WHUFF! Wes who had dropped the oars knew we were drifting towards trouble and scrambled to grab them and pull us out from the bank but we were real close now and the sow was getting quite po-ed, bouncing up and down while showing teeth. It did not look like we would pass more than 10 feet from the bears and i reached for the Ruger.....
I had no intention shooting the stupid bear and told Wes i would spook her, hurry up he said! Kablam! Water kicked up right in front of her and she swapped ends, heading up the bank with the cub close behind, then turned, growling and came back down! I fired twice more into the mud below her feet and she changed her mind, going back up the bank and behind some serviceberry bushed as we came with 8 ft of the bank with Wes pulling mightily at the oars. That was a relief! Black bears are inclined to mostly bluff but must not be trusted when cubs are involved.
I was relieved as we passed right next to where the bears had been and because she had disappeared so close to us i still held the pistol at the ready. Good thing i did because suddenly her head and shoulders came out of the brush above us and she was popping her jaws loudly as she fixed to drop down. My hand raised and i barely aimed, the pistol recoiled and a large black bundle came down the bank and splashed the water 5 ft behind us! Pandemonium for a moment as i turned sideways ready to fire again and scared half to death!
Wes was still rowing and cursing as i held the gun awkwardly over my left shoulder. The bear never moved and was floating dead as a stone behind us. It took a bit for us to settle down and go to shore. We walked up a ways and looked at the bear who had grounded on the shore. One small hole just above the eyes told the tale and my buddy was telling me how good a shot i was and i said BS! I just fired and that was dumb luck! Now we had a problem though, the Cub. It was standing at the top of the bank looking confused and i suddenly felt like crap!
We were both mighty sorry about it but the Cub would simply not survive and we did what was necessary.......
Little .22's are more than enough and i hated to to let the Ruger go. My buddy now has the holster and i am glad it will get used. Dam all left wing governments and their stupid beurocrats.
Post script.........
What i did not tell you is that after the proverbial smoke cleared, my buddy started giving me grief for shooting the bear! He was plenty scared but his second thoughts caused a bit of an argument about if it had been necessary and he finally acknowledged that things happened to fast to be sure and better to be wrong and lucky than dead!.....
they got no couth or manners.