My favorite, and certainly not most expensive .22 is this Remington 541-s custom given to me by my grandfather.
My grandfather was definitely the marksman of the family, and he shot, built and wildcated(not sure that's an actual word??) many high end rifles, mostly big bore.
In the early seventies he received a pacemaker and could no longer shoot large caliber rifles so he started target shooting. 22s.
He had many expensive target rifles that as his health declined further seemed to grow legs and walk off(as he put it).
We became close a few years before his passing and one day when I was just hanging around helping him with chores around his house, he had me retrieve this rifle from under his bed explaining it was the last rifle he had left and to put it in my car and not tell anyone as to whare it came from. It took me several more years (he passed shortly after) to totally understand the bigger meaning behind that event.
When I left home and wondered the country for a couple years I left the rifle in my father's care unit I settled down.
When I eventually retrieved the rifle my father showed me the great favor he did me by installing sling swivels and a nice leather sling. You can't imagine how hard it was to pretend to be happy about it and say thank you 😠!!!!
Now (and for many years) I look at those ugly sling swivels gracing that otherwise beautiful stock and smile thinking of them both and wishing they were both still here!!!
My grandfather was definitely the marksman of the family, and he shot, built and wildcated(not sure that's an actual word??) many high end rifles, mostly big bore.
In the early seventies he received a pacemaker and could no longer shoot large caliber rifles so he started target shooting. 22s.
He had many expensive target rifles that as his health declined further seemed to grow legs and walk off(as he put it).
We became close a few years before his passing and one day when I was just hanging around helping him with chores around his house, he had me retrieve this rifle from under his bed explaining it was the last rifle he had left and to put it in my car and not tell anyone as to whare it came from. It took me several more years (he passed shortly after) to totally understand the bigger meaning behind that event.
When I left home and wondered the country for a couple years I left the rifle in my father's care unit I settled down.
When I eventually retrieved the rifle my father showed me the great favor he did me by installing sling swivels and a nice leather sling. You can't imagine how hard it was to pretend to be happy about it and say thank you 😠!!!!
Now (and for many years) I look at those ugly sling swivels gracing that otherwise beautiful stock and smile thinking of them both and wishing they were both still here!!!