Thanks for posting that link. Interesting, indeed.
Love for the ol' 30-30 winchester
- Thread starter Sniper338
- Start date
Yea they more than likely are a eastern thing. Why? We have a lot of brush and hills in most of this area. And because of that we do not always get a long shot, or even a medium range shot. Here in KY it is a common caliber for first time deer hunters. The last several deers i have got i would say the longest shot was 70 yards. I dont have a 30-30 but at those ranges they are great! I used to live out west and it is a whole different thing to hunt in that area. I sure wished i could hunt coyotes at the ranges you all out west do.
brokeasajoke
Silver $$ Contributor
I still hunt with mine. Marlin 336 gold trigger w/fixed 4x Deerfield scope. I shoot leverevolution in it now. Last deer I killed fell where it was standing. Some of my guns are sorta sacred and it is one of them. It was my first rifle. Kind of like the marlin 39a 22lr that was the first rifle I ever shot which was passed to me. I still enjoy thoroughly the old guns of my youth. Like a dummy I sold my new england 20ga single shot, the very first gun I ever owned and I would pay high to have it back.
CaptainMal
Silver $$ Contributor
Currently own two. Always owned one from the late 1950's to today. Killed deer after deer with them in the past. Last one was a big 8 pt. just a couple years ago. Actually one of my favorite rifles and I have another. This one is a Marlin 24" bbl stainless 336 lever. Bedded the buttstock, opened up the forend to free the barrel and sometimes play with it at 600 yard gongs. It easily hits the larger gongs and does well on paper at 300 yards.
Use Leverrevolution powder and those "gummy" tip Hornady 160's.
Use Leverrevolution powder and those "gummy" tip Hornady 160's.
jds holler
Gold $$ Contributor
Anyone who has carried and shot a trusty 94 has enjoyed how easy handling and comfortable it carries and how "in command" it puts you for the radius of 100 yards all around you.
I've got the one that my grandfather bought new in 1929, and was carrying when he was killed in a hunting accident in the mid thirties. He had killed a buck with it that day, and I believe that was the last shot it fired until I got it from my dad. The family stories tell that it pretty much fed the logging camp that they lived in during those years.
It wears a Marble flip-up peep sight, and shoots like a dream. I've never shot a deer with it, but have shot it enough to know how lethal it would be for that chore.
Here's a pic of my wife looking pretty lethal with that old gun in a photo shoot awhile back. jd
I've got the one that my grandfather bought new in 1929, and was carrying when he was killed in a hunting accident in the mid thirties. He had killed a buck with it that day, and I believe that was the last shot it fired until I got it from my dad. The family stories tell that it pretty much fed the logging camp that they lived in during those years.
It wears a Marble flip-up peep sight, and shoots like a dream. I've never shot a deer with it, but have shot it enough to know how lethal it would be for that chore.
Here's a pic of my wife looking pretty lethal with that old gun in a photo shoot awhile back. jd
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pdhntr
Silver $$ Contributor
I moved from central Wisconsin to northern Wisconsin in the late 70’s. I had a wife and young son and no job prospects. My wife at the time got a job at the local bank and I finally connected with some locals and found a job working in the woods. The logging outfit that I worked for picked me up every morning with the work van and transported me anywhere from 10 to 70 miles to the job.
Getting into the work van on the first day was an education in explosive vapor density. In the back were leaking cans of saw gas, diesel and chain saws and the floor in the back of the van was often wet with the concoction. Of course I was in the back seat and as we drove off, the head cutter lit a cigarette and proceeded to tell me about my job. I was a hand cutter, and used a chain saw, felling trees, cutting them to length and then “bunching” anything under 8 to 10 inches. It was a tough job. I got paid $25 dollars a day and had to produce a certain amount of wood to get it. The other cutters were “interesting” to say the least. Layoffs between logging jobs were normal, and I got one for two weeks in June.
I had made a friend with a local farmer and he offered me a job working in the woods for him while I waited for a call back to work. The job I was offered was peeling poplar. What a wonderful job, but it was close to home. It was behind the house and I was pleasantly surprised that his truck didn’t smell like it was going to explode at any moment.
Peeling poplar is simple, but by far the most work intensive job there is. You cut the tree down trying to lay it on other downed trees so it doesn’t hit the ground. Then score it down the trunk with the saw, limb it up, and use a bark spud to remove ALL the bark on the tree. The trees are left to dry and cut up and bunched later. Frank was a great guy to work with and during lunches in the woods, he told me about his uncle that was causing him some stress.
Karl had farmed his entire life until his wife passed and he sold the farm. He needed something to do at the tender age of 80 so he purchased an “iron mule” and decided he was going to go logging. He enlisted Frank to run the mule and Karl would cut and bunch the wood.
Karl was German. 5 foot and two inches, 120 lbs. Looking at him you could see all the years of farming, milking cows twice a day, broke fingers, arthritic joints and a work ethic that caused him to get up every day at 4 am and go to work.
I can understand Frank’s frustration. Karl would go into the woods every day and cut the trees down with the chain saw and as soon as the tree hit the ground, Karl would shut the saw off, and proceed to limb the entire tree with an axe. It didn’t matter how big the limbs were, he used the axe. If Frank hesitated at all in picking up wood, Karl would chastise him for not shutting the machine off. Karl wasn’t going to buy an ounce of fuel that wasn’t going to be used properly. Until the age of 90 Karl worked in the woods with the chain saw and axe.
Frank told me at lunch one day that Karl had a Winchester model 94 that he didn’t use anymore because he couldn’t see through the iron sights. He hadn’t used it in many years and it was a 32 Winchester, not the 30-30. It got my attention as my father had a 94 in 32 Winchester. I asked Frank if Karl wanted to sell it, He didn’t know but he set up a meeting amongst the three of us.
I met Karl at Frank’s place over the kitchen table and coffee. He wasn’t interested in dealing right away so we talked about logging, weather and the price of cows. Eventually I asked Karl if he wanted to sell his 94. He said yes and went to the closet and brought it out. It was used as a “farm gun” would be. The blueing was gone in many places and the wood showed some wear. He also brought out two boxes of Winchester 32 ammo.
Karl wasn’t interested in talking about price so I didn’t press the issue. He laid the 94 on the table and opened one of the boxes. “ This box is full, not a shell fired from it. I bought these with the rifle.” He closed the box and opened the other one. “ This box is the one I used. It has 17 rounds missing.” He pointed to the first open spot in the box and said, “this one I used to kill a cow, he pointed to the next opening and said, “this one I used to kill the big hog” and proceeded to account for every shell that was fired from the rifle. I had to listen to all the deer that he shot with each shell also. I certainly didn’t mind. I realized very quickly to shut up and listen because it was something that will never be related again.
He got to the last open spot in the box and I saw a very disappointed look on his face. “This is the one I lost on that last drive we made in the swamp. I went back and looked for it in the spring but I couldn’t find it.”
After telling me of all the stories with each shell, he looked me dead in the eyes and shook his finger at me and said, “ all those guys that shoot all those shells one after the other don’t hit anything. They just waist shells.”
We have 4 Model 94s in the family now, all 32 Winchester Specials.
Jim
Getting into the work van on the first day was an education in explosive vapor density. In the back were leaking cans of saw gas, diesel and chain saws and the floor in the back of the van was often wet with the concoction. Of course I was in the back seat and as we drove off, the head cutter lit a cigarette and proceeded to tell me about my job. I was a hand cutter, and used a chain saw, felling trees, cutting them to length and then “bunching” anything under 8 to 10 inches. It was a tough job. I got paid $25 dollars a day and had to produce a certain amount of wood to get it. The other cutters were “interesting” to say the least. Layoffs between logging jobs were normal, and I got one for two weeks in June.
I had made a friend with a local farmer and he offered me a job working in the woods for him while I waited for a call back to work. The job I was offered was peeling poplar. What a wonderful job, but it was close to home. It was behind the house and I was pleasantly surprised that his truck didn’t smell like it was going to explode at any moment.
Peeling poplar is simple, but by far the most work intensive job there is. You cut the tree down trying to lay it on other downed trees so it doesn’t hit the ground. Then score it down the trunk with the saw, limb it up, and use a bark spud to remove ALL the bark on the tree. The trees are left to dry and cut up and bunched later. Frank was a great guy to work with and during lunches in the woods, he told me about his uncle that was causing him some stress.
Karl had farmed his entire life until his wife passed and he sold the farm. He needed something to do at the tender age of 80 so he purchased an “iron mule” and decided he was going to go logging. He enlisted Frank to run the mule and Karl would cut and bunch the wood.
Karl was German. 5 foot and two inches, 120 lbs. Looking at him you could see all the years of farming, milking cows twice a day, broke fingers, arthritic joints and a work ethic that caused him to get up every day at 4 am and go to work.
I can understand Frank’s frustration. Karl would go into the woods every day and cut the trees down with the chain saw and as soon as the tree hit the ground, Karl would shut the saw off, and proceed to limb the entire tree with an axe. It didn’t matter how big the limbs were, he used the axe. If Frank hesitated at all in picking up wood, Karl would chastise him for not shutting the machine off. Karl wasn’t going to buy an ounce of fuel that wasn’t going to be used properly. Until the age of 90 Karl worked in the woods with the chain saw and axe.
Frank told me at lunch one day that Karl had a Winchester model 94 that he didn’t use anymore because he couldn’t see through the iron sights. He hadn’t used it in many years and it was a 32 Winchester, not the 30-30. It got my attention as my father had a 94 in 32 Winchester. I asked Frank if Karl wanted to sell it, He didn’t know but he set up a meeting amongst the three of us.
I met Karl at Frank’s place over the kitchen table and coffee. He wasn’t interested in dealing right away so we talked about logging, weather and the price of cows. Eventually I asked Karl if he wanted to sell his 94. He said yes and went to the closet and brought it out. It was used as a “farm gun” would be. The blueing was gone in many places and the wood showed some wear. He also brought out two boxes of Winchester 32 ammo.
Karl wasn’t interested in talking about price so I didn’t press the issue. He laid the 94 on the table and opened one of the boxes. “ This box is full, not a shell fired from it. I bought these with the rifle.” He closed the box and opened the other one. “ This box is the one I used. It has 17 rounds missing.” He pointed to the first open spot in the box and said, “this one I used to kill a cow, he pointed to the next opening and said, “this one I used to kill the big hog” and proceeded to account for every shell that was fired from the rifle. I had to listen to all the deer that he shot with each shell also. I certainly didn’t mind. I realized very quickly to shut up and listen because it was something that will never be related again.
He got to the last open spot in the box and I saw a very disappointed look on his face. “This is the one I lost on that last drive we made in the swamp. I went back and looked for it in the spring but I couldn’t find it.”
After telling me of all the stories with each shell, he looked me dead in the eyes and shook his finger at me and said, “ all those guys that shoot all those shells one after the other don’t hit anything. They just waist shells.”
We have 4 Model 94s in the family now, all 32 Winchester Specials.
Jim
It's definitely big in the Southeast. Short, light, easy to handle, can reliably take shots up to 200 yards (Max distance ever in thick brush of the SE). I have similar memories of the ones above, just with a marlin 336 in .35 Remington. I remember when I was a kid the .35 Remington was the end all be all cartridge for everything.
I have learned a lot since then.
butchlambert
Site $$ Sponsor
Mike Turner is the real deal. My wife bought me a mod 94 about 30 years ago. It disappeared. While visiting my youngest son in Kalif. last year, I found it and my 1100. Said I gave them to him?
Oh well.
Oh well.
I run a .30-30AI after reading P.O. Ackley's pressure test in Vol. 1.
Same here. The AI version really wakes the old man up.
Boys, take that ol' 30/30 to the range and see what it can do. it is humbling to shoot iron sights into 2" when you are used to .2" I just took an old 25/35 out and shot it, once i got used to the sights, i was able to keep it on a 24" gong at 400 every shot. I will say the first shot was way low!!
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