Reading Foster's chapter on grouse guns this morning, I found it ironic that he was slightly to the plus side of neutral on the subject of ejectors, but also spoke of the phenomenon I am all too familiar with; that of returning home to only need to clean the right barrel.
In the thick covers of northern New England, firing a second shot in quick succession to the first is rarely at a second bird, and not a frequent second shot at the same bird.
I would never deny the absolute joy carrying a nice side by side brings me, and cannot ever see myself wandering those woods with my favorite model 12. I usually grumble something nasty when I hear the distant 3,4 and occasional 5 round volley of some yAhoo unloading his autowhatever.
When I do break my favorite grouse gun, I am usually reflecting on the beautiful flush I either hit or missed, and do not ever recall a sense of urgent reloading. It could be that I'm getting older and just enjoying these walks more and more.
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