Waterfowl season opened this last weekend, and my son called me up Friday night to make sure I was ready. Then he suggested that since the season didn't start until noon, I should whip up a batch of beef jerky and we would kick around in the woulds and plink for a couple hours. He got to my house about 7:00 A.M. and after a quick cup of coffee, we proceeded to the gun safe. I expected him to grab my Colt Carbine, but he chose his old slide action .22 pump. I grabbed my old iron sighted Ruger 10/22 and Taurus M94. He already had his Ruger MK II, so we were set. We just rambled in my woods, slaugherting pine cones, destroying knots on dead trees and generally creating havoc. We hadn't done this in couple of years, and I forgot how much fun it was. No tournament to win, no pressure to obtain game, just a pleasant shooting experience. I'm going to do it often. (It got to hot to duck hunt, we went fishing instead.