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The Tale of Thee 870...

giles

Cull buck specialist
Supporting Member
This might take a while, so bare with me. I will probably add stories as I think of them also. This is basically a story about a gun and I that don't get along AT ALL! Kinda like your favorite stripper at closing time...you are in love and 100% sure your gonna tag that tonight and she doesn't even say goodnight.
 

giles

Cull buck specialist
Supporting Member
Back in 1996' I was going to a vocational school to learn some trade skills. Penta County located in Rossford Ohio was the place. I didn't know many others that were doing this but I was a damn punk and was miserably failing at regular school and interacting with other kids without my fist. (Most of you have met me...you see how Fuggen huge I am...lol. Back then I was -100 lbs of pissed off teenager) My first day in class I walk in and sit down next to this cowboy looking dude and start running my trap because he looked at me weird walking in the door... "Cowboy" turned out to be a name that stuck with him from that day forward.

A couple of weeks goes by and we both find out that our ground skills are pretty equal and neither of us are quitters... We also found out that our old junk trucks were pretty equal... We also found out that we live within 5 miles of each other... Still hating each other we were walking down the hall one day after lunch and we both seen this dude pin this girl against a locker. No words were said at that time and we both worked that kid over pretty good. We both got a 3 day vacation from that and became pretty damn good friends for many years after that. We had a lot in common and both struggled to earn what we had.
 
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giles

Cull buck specialist
Supporting Member
This brings us to July of 1998'... I was turning 18 and could buy myself a gun! I paged old Cowboy and awaited his call... (remember that shit? Lol) I could hear pipes in the distance and knew it was him. He jumped outa the truck and said he would drive! He had also saved up enough penny's to buy himself a gun.

So we go into Woodville Army Surplus to buy a couple of guns. Turns out he didn't know much about them and basically was following my lead. I always wanted me an 870 combo in 20 gauge, but they only had one. Of coarse, that damn thing was leaving with me! So he left the store with the same gun in 12 gauge.

Neither of us had enough money for shells after buying the guns. But we didn't care! I also knew a guy in Genoa that reloaded and knew he'd let me have some ammo if I reloaded a bunch. (Good old Kenny from Kenny's gun shop. I loved that old mean Fugger...flew back home from AK for his funeral type of thing)

So we both spent a day reloading for him and left with our own bags of ammo that we loaded. Blew all kinds of shit up that day... Kenny was also working on making and loading his own slugs. So we were able to get our hands on a few of those to test out.
 
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giles

Cull buck specialist
Supporting Member
This brings us to hunting season... Turns out Ole Cowboy can't hit a moving target to save his life! Dude could put the smack down on a 2 liter of Faygo though.

Not long after that his truck broke down and he needed some money to fix it. He made a deal with my old man to sell it to him in hopes of buying it back someday.

A couple of years went by and our lives had drawn us in other directions. I ended up joining the military and sold mine to my buddy Jeff, that still owns it today. He did the same shortly afterwards.

Dad decided to take an old scope he had laying around and get it mounted on that 870. He was pumped! That thing scoped with Kennys slugs was a "tack driver", so I was told. Dad loved his inline, but put this together so he had a backup and I had something to hunt with while on leave.
 
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giles

Cull buck specialist
Supporting Member
So I come home after being gone a couple of years for shotgun season... Hadn't really shot many guns and he hands me this thing and smiles. Points out this coffee cup at 60 yards and tells me to shoot it.

Pretty much scared for my life I load a shell...I mean shit all I've shot in a couple years was a pussy ass M-16. But dad has him a "military boy" now and people watching him put those "skills" to work. (I built bombs and misled folks...not a lot of skill in following a book)

First shot...that fucking thing is probably still orbiting the earth! No clue where it went, I jumped about 7 or 8 miles... We all laughed and I was able to somehow get my shit together and get serious. I remember it perfectly...control my heartbeat...check...control my breathing....check...on target...safety off...next breath is go time...breath in....and out...BANG! Cup goes into pieces. I slowly turn around with a giant smile on my face and hi-five the old man.
 
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giles

Cull buck specialist
Supporting Member
Next morning I'm sitting on a hillside just a waiting to blow up some lungs. And wouldn't you know it...here comes some deer. I can't help but smile and my mouth is watering. They just keep coming...80 yards...60...40 and the lead doe standing boardside. I go through my steps and squeeze that trigger...all I hear is the loudest CLICK in the world! My stupid ass never loaded the damn gun...way to go hero...fucking dumbass!

So I get the gun loaded and didn't see anything else that morning. Go back in for lunch with my head down. Tell the story and try to laugh about it, but I was pretty upset with myself.

Go back out after lunch and I go to the same spot. Hoping those same deer would come back. (I think I blew some deer out walking in if I remember correct) I sit back down on the same stump and get in "the mode" you know the one, you picture everything happening in your head. Then all of a sudden "BOOM"! And deer are running by me on both sides as I'm falling back to earth from jumping 7,395 miles into the air... I spin around and unload the fastest 3 shots ever fired.

Honestly, not sure I even looked through the scope... I did find a chuck of ear though. Turns out these deer were above me in the hayfield and dad dropped one walking in.

That concludes my first day hunting with that gun. I have probably 10 or so more stories like that but I'm half asleep right now...
 

giles

Cull buck specialist
Supporting Member
Alright, now I can't sleep...

So that night I decide I need to clean the gun. I get the cleaning kit out and break the gun down. I remember looking through the barrel and it being CAKED! I got the steal brush out and went to work on that thing until it was completely clean. This took me a couple of hours and a bunch of beers.

Next morning we go to a different spot. Dad and I are hunting side by side now and we're looking off this cliff into a pine thicket with beaver ponds.

I spot a lone doe bedded down facing right to left almost straight down. I put the scope on her and don't feel right about the shot, as it's almost vertical. So I wait...and wait...and wait some more. Dad talks me into just shooting as I wanted to throw a stick or something so she would at least stand up.

Bang...shot hits about 14" above where I was aiming...WTF? And the deer doesn't move. I rack another one in and bang! Shot is about 14" able and left...WTF?! Deer still didn't move!!! Dad ask me how many times I'm gonna kill her while he's laughing... I told him I thought I was missing, he said "nope, you got her with the first shot".

Turns out he's a damn liar! That deer was already dead...she had an arrow sticking out of her guts.

Oh well, it's still early. We will just move around the corner and hunt the bottom. We don't have to wait long and here comes a little fork. I happen to have a fork for that fork and I plan on using it. He's about 100 yards out and doesn't look like he's gonna head out way at all. Standing in the middle of a logging trail with nothing between us. I let one fly! Deer drops!!!! Time for some more hi-fives and shoulder punching. No need to wait, we start walking down the trail.

We make it about halfway and dad grabs my shoulder and says "wait wait wait". I think he spotted another deer so I freeze. He says "that fucker just moved" "what did?" He said "the deer". We decide it was nerves and continue a few more steps before the deer jumps up and runs away...missing one antler! Dad took a shot and I took 3 more at it.

Back to lunch we go. Everyone excited to see what all we killed...stories get told and the group decides I need to shoot the gun again. Long story short, the scope mount had come loose.
 

Hedgelj

Senior Member
Supporting Member
7,145
178
Mohicanish
Great stories Giles, keep them coming.

My first time shooting an 870 was with some friends as we were shooting hand held trap at one of the ODNR ranges. I asked if I could borrow his 870 and try it as I had only really shot my 20 gauge 1100. His was a 12 gauge 870, and without my knowing he loaded up a 3 in slug in the chamber rather than a 2 3/4 birdshot like we had been shooting. That was one of the meanest kicking guns I've ever shot, especially when I wasn't expecting it. Fugger.....
 

GoetsTalon

Senior Member
Supporting Member
4,294
128
Walbridge oh
Lmao was in woodville surplus just last night. Awesome stories giles. My first gun was a 870 that dad bought for my 15th Christmas back in 1978 from Sportfame that was in Great Eastern shopping center. Killed my first buck with it in 1994 and used it a couple weeks ago to kill a limit of geese.
 

GoetsTalon

Senior Member
Supporting Member
4,294
128
Walbridge oh
IMG_20161204_150612476.jpg here it is. They dont make em like this anymore. I can tell you stories about every mark on it from dropping it on the rocks duck hunting the dike in front of Ottawa refuge to wearing the bluing off hunting pheasnt s in a ice storm in 1980. Sorry for the highjack but 870 brings tons of great memories!
 

giles

Cull buck specialist
Supporting Member
View attachment 50641 here it is. They dont make em like this anymore. I can tell you stories about every mark on it from dropping it on the rocks duck hunting the dike in front of Ottawa refuge to wearing the bluing off hunting pheasnt s in a ice storm in 1980. Sorry for the highjack but 870 brings tons of great memories!

Not a hijack at all! Share away, I love this kind of thing.
 

giles

Cull buck specialist
Supporting Member
By this point my shoulder hurts to even think about...I told dad he could take this pile of shit and I'd take his ML! So that's what we did that evening and I killed a couple of doe and he killed a little basket rack. That was enough meat and work for us, so we got on the road.

Next year rolls around and I'm coming back again for gun season. I'm full of attitude and I'm gonna kill something with this damn 870! Talking with dad he gives me the big bug eyes "your gonna love it, already shot and and cleaned it. It's a good thing I did because it was still dirty from last year!" (Anyone else seeing where this is going?)
 

giles

Cull buck specialist
Supporting Member
We get there a couple of days early and I'm sicker then fugg....can't hardly move. Sunday evening I can no longer stay in that damn barn though and I grab the crossbow and head out. Can't even make it all the way to the spot I wanted to. I park my ass next to a tree in a fence line. Put the crossbow on my knees pointed in front of my and rested my head on it.

No kidding, within 5 minutes I look up and two doe are standing at the edge of the woods and coming right in front of me. I put it on the closest one and let it fly. Bolt goes in the neck and I could see blood spray as she turned to run away.

I take my ass back to the barn. Pass dad along the way and tell him to find a rope while I go lay down for a bit.

Dad thought I was joking... i get back up and he's half shit faced. WTF old man, for that shit together yet? He laughed and I straight faced him. "No shit, you actually shot one?!" Yeah, let's go get it before it's dark.

I get on blood and we follow it into the woods. Get about 30 yards in and I spot her. Go walking up to her and she's still alive...sorta. I reach down to put a rope on her and she tries to get up. I'll be having none of that though and I jump on her and put her in a headlock. Dad's backing away and I'm asking for the rope! "Give me the Fuggen rope!!!" I get it around her neck and manage to somehow get both her front legs tied up as well.

She plants her ass like a dog playing tug of war and gets to screaming...its almost dark and shits getting real freaking creepy. I start dragging her while she's still alive. We don't make it far and I've had enough of fighting her and her damn screaming.

All I had was my pocket knife. I felt a heart pump that day...
 

giles

Cull buck specialist
Supporting Member
Anyways, back to thee 870...

Still sick as hell and meat hanging, I'm sleeping my happy ass in. Wake up to gunfire and decide that enough motivation for me. Get my things together (to include a real knife) and head out. Not knowing where everyone was at I'll just stick close to the house. I end up slipping down the driveway and across the road by the mailbox.

Deer are running by in both directions but none ever stop to give me a shot. Must of seen 25-30 deer that morning. It's getting close to lunch time and I can hear the laughs and people talking from camp. I stand up to take a last look around and there he is...

My heart drops and starts to try and find its way outa my chest...turns out my ribs are pretty strong. I know at any second he's gonna hear my heart POUNDING and run away. But he just looks up towards the house. I'm able to get the gun up and on him, he facing me though. I'm not a fan of that shot so I wait. Not sure how long it was but my arms got to shaking from holding the gun up so long. I'm loosing composure at a fast rate and panic is setting in...next thing I know the gun is empty. 40 yards and I never hit him. I couldn't even tell you what happened...shit just happened? Gun got emptied, deer thinks the mailbox has a gun, and I scared the shit outa everyone at camp.

Time for lunch!
 

giles

Cull buck specialist
Supporting Member
Seriously guys, if any of this strikes a memory, please share. This isn't just my story, this is hunting in my book. Some times things work out great...others...not so much.