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Lever rifles, bolt actions and semi-automatics were all players in the conjured hunting adventures bouncing around my brain as I waited patiently to turn 12 years of age. (Twelve was the magic and legal age for the right to tote a hunting rifle in the field.) Never once did I hanker to wrap my hands around a single-shot rifle. I’d already “been there and done that” with the single-shot .22 LR I used for practicing at the range. The sweet-sounding crack of the rimfire cartridge and the smell of burnt powder via the single shot, awakened my hunting senses, but I craved for the ability to rack round after round to fully ensure that anything in my hunting sights would receive plenty of downrange stopping power.

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