CHRISTmas Day, 1964, I was 13 yrs. old and had never owned a .22 rifle, though I had hunted with my Grandaddy's Remington Model 33 single shot for a long time. The day before CHRISTmas Eve I had crashed a buddy's Honda motorcycle and had broken my left wrist. I was in a cast on CHRISTmas morn, but hurriedly opened my packages. What to my wondering eyes should appear, but a Nylon 11. The Nylon 11 was a bolt action counterpart to the Nylon 66, which got all the glory. It was clip fed and, If I remember correctly, the clip held 5 cartridges.
With my left arm in a cast, I went squirrel hunting. The rest is anti-climactic. That rifle was ugly as death eating a cracker by today's standards, but beautiful to me that day, and many days thereafter. Thanks, Dad.
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