Scott Bestul

SCOTT BESTUL
Thompson/Center Hawken
.54 caliber
I didn't build the muzzleloader to fall in love with it. I just built it to kill deer. I was 20 years old and lived for whitetails, but I was tired of trying to shoot them with punkin' ball slugs. Centerfires were prohibited in the Wisconsin county I hunted, but blackpowder guns were legal fare, so I plunked down $135 for a .54 caliber Thompson/Center Hawken kit.

I spent the summer working the octagon barrel with a file and emery cloth, then I hot-browned it outside on an August night when the fireflies flashed 'round me like sparks from a forge.

Then I turned to the walnut stock with a bastard file and sandpaper until the patchbox, lockplate, trigger guard and buttplate slipped neatly against wood. By the time I finished the rifle, the trees in our yard were showing color.

The Hawken would spit a patched roundball into a paper plate all day at 100 yards, and I never experimented at farther distances. In the swamps and clearcuts we hunted, you didn't shoot at deer that far away, you shouted at them.

It was two days before Thanksgiving when a blocky eight-point trotted to me through a snowstorm. At less than 30 steps away, I clicked the set trigger, slid my finger up to the hair trigger and took a deep breath before planting the browned-iron sight behind his shoulder.

The second my finger touched the Hawken off I knew there was no chance for an "oops," no prayer of a reload and, given the belch of smoke, not even opportunity to see the effects of my shot. The buck ran off, and I looked at my gun like I would look at my wife years later when we hit the finish line of a marathon we'd run together. In each instance, my only thought was: "Did we just do that?"

I found the buck piled up only 40 yards away. Kneeling, I brushed downy flakes off his forehead before lifting his head from the snow. Every deer I kill is memorable. Some get seared into my conscience. I've been honoring that little buck, and celebrating that wonderful hunt, by toting the Hawken ever since.

LEGENDS: Winchester Model 70
1936-present. Winchester's first centerfire rifle designed specifically for sporting use. Pre-1964 models have gained a cult-like following.

DICK METCALF
Remington Model 1100LT
20 gauge
For many years, the only legal modern firearm for Illinois deer hunting was a slug gun, and for a long time that meant a smoothbore 12-gauge firing punkin' ball slugs--with an effective range of about 50 yards. Then a procession of refinements paraded by: fully rifled slug barrels, cantilever mounting systems and highly accurate sabot slugs.

I assembled a Remington 11-87 with a first-generation Remington barrel (no cantilever), upon which I mounted a long eye relief pistol scope--essentially creating a scout-rifle configuration. I zeroed it at 150 yards and for the first time began to feel like I was hunting with a real deer "rifle." But it still had a rainbow trajectory and, being a 12 gauge, it kicked like a mule.

Then ammo makers began applying their 12-gauge sabot technology to 20-gauge slugs, developing loads that launched .45 caliber hunting bullets at velocities greater than the same bullets from a .45-70. Accurate to 200 yards, they generate recoil on par with a 7mm-08 rifle.

The only thing missing was a 20-gauge rifled barrel that could accommodate a scope. So I got a Remington 1100 LT-20 Youth Turkey gun with camo stock and fore-end, and an accessory 20-gauge Remington rifled barrel with iron sights.

I knocked the rear sight off the barrel and went down to a local welder, who affixed a Leupold QR quick-detach mount base in its place (getting the exact alignment was a little tricky). This allows me to instantly swap between an electronic dot sight for quick shots I might get while sneaking into my stand and a scope for long-range precision when I get there.