Winchester model 61 and 62 magnums|Page 2|Winchester .22 Rim Fire|Forum|Winchester Collector

Zebulon said
The 61 is a neat little gun and mine is a favorite – the only grooved receiver version I’ve owned. Funny thing is the couple I once owned before were both drilled and tapped and would let me mount a 2X Leupold down low. This one won’t. 
The magnum is too hot for squirrels but if it will shuck the WRF that would be perfect for them. 
  

Yes a .22 Magnum on squirrels would be a buffalo gun equivalent!

Michael

Zebulon said
The 61 is a neat little gun and mine is a favorite – the only grooved receiver version I’ve owned. Funny thing is the couple I once owned before were both drilled and tapped and would let me mount a 2X Leupold down low. This one won’t. 
The magnum is too hot for squirrels but if it will shuck the WRF that would be perfect for them. 
  

I like the Model 12 and 22 rimfires, therefore I like the Model 61. Funny thing, I’ve owned a few 61’s but can’t recall shooting any of them. It seems I don’t have one at the moment but they truly are one of Winchester’s most attractive rimfire rifles. I did get to fondle my 1890 in 22 WRF today. Too many rifles, too little time. 

Mike

Funny thing, food prejudice. Rats, like buzzards,  are actually very clean animals. They are not disease carriers themselves; their flea infestations are the disease vector. I like squirrel venison quite well and am told their cousins, the groundhog and the big capybara, make excellent tablefare. I would certainly try them. And domesticated rats if I were very hungry.

I’ve not had fried locusts and honey but I wouldn’t turn them down until I’d tasted one and didn’t like it. 

 Chilled monkey brains are said to be a great substitute for ice cream but I’m not  that cosmopolitan, particularly if it’s served in the donor’s half-skull. 

We had a fine dish of beef liver and onions for lunch today but you are welcome to my share of any brains, tongue, and calf fries. 

I don’t like Sushi and I’ve tried it more than once.  Fancy bait. 

But escargot in garlic butter are another matter. Thirty-six years ago my wife had to have two glasses of the piesporter goldtropfchen she liked before she would taste a snail. After the first one, no predicate alcohol was required. Just a swatch of crusty bread to mop up what was left. Great but expensive. 

In my younger days I was never so hung over that Menudo did anything except induce projectile hurling.  The smell alone convinced me the tripe still contained shreds of bovine feces, and the bitterness of the hominy made the reek seem worse.  Now too old to even metabolize “three-two” beer, last month I tried a spoonful of Menudo cold sober and it was even worse than I remembered. 

And I won’t eat tamales from an Austin street vendor because I’m afraid he might be a direct lineal descendant.of the writer O. Henry’s old Don Jose Calderon, determined to avenge his great grandfather, a soldado killed by the Texicans at San Jacinto. 

“ Ladrones, mentadores, carracos y perros, voy a matarles con solo mis manos!”

[A great uncle of mine commanded Texican troops in the field that day.]