I was in earmuffs before I could walk, my parents were competition pistol shooters (IPSC) and dad also shot the odd rifle target comp too. I learnt to talk by imitating range officersand grew up smelling that tang of hot brass and burnt powder every sunday for the first 6 years of my life.
Being part of a small town shooting club earnt my old man a few friends with hunting/pest control opportunities, I remember following him around on the odd hunt for feral dogs/cats/foxes but the real nostalgia comes from the moonlight rabbit stalking. Those were the days! A growing family and big gun law changes put the brakes on it all and now its just too bloody hard to go hunting in Queensland without having a land owner in the family. I made the choice to move here almost solely on the hunting/grow your own lifestyle.
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