Hooked on the classics
New shotguns are good, but you can’t beat perfection
As a shotgunner, I have come full circle, and that makes me the bane of the shooting industry.
It needs people like me writing glowing reviews about all the latest and greatest things which, when you pull back the curtain, aren’t substantially different than the oldest and moldiest. Pull the trigger, and the gun fires. If you do it right, a clay target breaks or a bird comes to the bag.
I have hunted with the most expensive semi-automatics. I also went through an extended pump gun phase. In fact, I shot my only straight in skeet (25 broken targets in a row) with a 12-gauge Browning BPS. Many fine doubles have passed through my hands. Some I keep because they mean something to me personally. A 16-gauge Browning Gran Lightning comes immediately to mind. A friend to whom money means little sold it to me for far less than its value after a South Dakota pheasant hunt in 2019. He shoots his antique Marlin Model 90 16-gauge better and had no use for the fancier gun.
That is kind of where this story starts. I’ve shot them all, including $10,000 Krieghoff and Perazzi over/unders. My best with any of them in skeet was 24. The shotguns I shoot best are the plain Jane, white-bread-and-mayonnaise Remington Model 1100, and the white-toast-and-butter Browning Auto-5.
That revealed itself with crystal clarity in 2005 at a dove hunt near Keo. I started the day with a 16-gauge Browning Citori, but I couldn’t kill anything. A batch of bad ammo abetted the crime. I don’t know how old those Winchester dove loads were, but they popped anemically, and confetti erupted from the muzzle as the wads disintegrated. Several doves shuddered and lost a few feathers from the few pellets that connected, but they did not break stride.
After lunch, I switched to a 20-gauge Model 1100 Skeet B and quickly bagged a limit.
A similar thing happened in 2018 in South Dakota with a humpback Browning Sweet Sixteen made in the early 1980s.
In 2007, I transitioned to a 16-gauge Model 1100 Classic Field. I could not miss with that gun. I sold it after being unduly influenced by shooting journals that derided the Classic Field as being an unworthy 16-gauge. It was too heavy, with an underbore 12-gauge barrel on a 12-gauge frame.
That was my last dalliance with a gun that revolutionized the shotgun world. Of course, that revolution occurred in 1963, the year I was born, just a few years after the Cuban Revolution. Benelli and Beretta had long made the Model 1100 obsolete. Remington acknowledged as much by rolling out a long line of replacements. First was the Model 11-87, merely an improved 1100 that shoots 23/4- and 3-inch loads interchangeably. If you want to shoot 3-inch loads from an 1100, you have to buy a Magnum model.
Then came the 105Cti, the only semi-auto that ejects spent shells from the bottom. It is probably the most maligned shotgun ever made, probably because it is purely a heavy field gun that cannot function trap or skeet ranges. I love mine.
Then came the VersaMax. Early models were said to be unreliable. Remington corrected the problems, and the VersaMax is now very popular, especially among goose hunters and also, surprisingly, in the tactical/home defense realm.
The V3 is the last in the series. Among contemporary autoloaders, you can’t do any better than the V3.
Synonymous with great-grandpas everywhere, the Automatic-5 was Browning’s flagship shotgun from 1903-99. Browning followed it with a dazzling array of models with considerably more success than Remington. It is noteworthy, however, that Browning’s most acclaimed addition to its lineup is its new A5 Sweet 16, which has nothing in common with the old Auto-5.
A friend recently offered me a deal on a couple of his old 1100s. One is a 12-gauge with a Modified barrel, and the other is a 28-gauge made in 1972, with a mahogany stock and a Skeet barrel. One shot made me realize how much I missed having an 1100. The recoil is mild, but more importantly, I hit with it. Every time. It comes to my shoulder just right. It aligns my eyes with the muzzle just right. It swings just right. I don’t break clay targets with an 1100. I dust them, even with a tight Modified barrel.
The 1100 also completes my long journey with the 28-gauge. I hunt quail only with a 28, and I have had a bunch of them. For years I used an SKB 505, a gorgeous over/under that was just a tad too long for me. Wearing a shooting vest or layered clothing, I had to thrust the gun outward and then pull it to my shoulder, adjust the hold and align my eyes, all while tracking a bird. It was essentially a single-shot.
Still, I had my moments. One of my favorites occurred in Georgia three years ago while hunting with Bill Wilson, Tim Dudley and John Byrd. The huntmaster was obsessive about safety, and he made it clear that any incidence of unsafe gun handling would send the offender to a rehabilitation session on the “bird buggy.”
A covey of quail flushed and flew behind us. I swung high and shot one-handed, with the stock unsupported. It looked like an accidental discharge. The huntmaster charged over and barked, “What just happened there?”
“Pretty clean for as close as he was,” I said, picking up a dead bobwhite that fell at my feet and inspecting it theatrically.
He looked at the bird and looked at me. He looked at the bird again and back at me. After a long silence, he grunted and returned to his position at the head of the column. I was unofficially on “probation,” but we got along famously for the rest of the weekend, especially after learning that he’d played football at Georgia Southern University with my friend Thomas Porter.
Dudley and Byrd used Benelli semi-automatic 28-gauges, and their snap-shooting astonished me. I wanted one, but not bad enough to pay $1,700 plus tax. I told myself that if I ever found an 1100 28-gauge for a decent price, I’d move that SKB on down the road.
It was the right call. Shooting the old 1100 28-gauge is purely joyous, and a Skeet barrel is perfect for upland birds and clay targets.
Shooting the Auto-5 is a different kind of experience. Its distinctive two-way recoil unnerves the uninitiated, and the hump distracts hunters that are used to streamlined designs. For me, the Auto-5 is a quarter notch below the 1100’s perfection.
New shotguns are fine, but as far as I’m concerned, Remington and Browning got it right with their classics.