My husband tells me a funny story about when he was growing up in what I would call the back woods of New York State. His grandmother used to enjoy cooking up a few different kinds of wild game. His dad would let hunters on to the property to go hunting. They'd hunt all day and hardly ever come off the property with more than a couple of pheasants or partridge. My husband at twelve years old would take his BB gun with a rifle scope off of an old 22 caliber rifle. He would lay down at the edge of the pond between two sand hills and take easily twice as many pheasant in three hours than the hunters did all day.
Marshall stack at guitarcenter.com
3 years ago
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