It has always pained me to sell a gun. There are a couple of exceptions to this, of course: when you can’t shoot the thing for toffee, when it beats your hand or shoulder up too much, when its ammo is too costly, and so on.
Then there’s the most common reason to sell a gun: financial necessity. But if that necessity forces one into selling a gun, then all sorts of reasons come into play when deciding which gun or guns to sell.
The first reason is sentiment. There are guns that I love to shoot, love to own, and I shouldn’t have to explain this to anyone here. Everyone has possessions that they continue to keep, beyond all reason — overflowing basements, attics and storage facilities all bear witness to this phenomenon — and guns are no different. As an example, let me take the gun which I probably love the most, my Springfield 1911: I keep it despite its ammo being expensive (relative to other calibers), despite the fact that it beats my hand up every time I fire off more than a box of ammo, and despite the fact that every time I holster the damn thing, I have to tighten my belt up by a notch (and sometimes two) because the damn thing is so heavy. But all those are burdens which I bear gladly, because at the end of the day, my 1911 satisfies me in so many ways: it works as well or better than any gun ever made, its cartridge works as well or better than any cartridge ever made, it’s a simple and old-fashioned answer to an eternal question, and whenever I walk outside without it I feel vulnerable. (I know, my .357 Mag revolver is a decent substitute — for all the same reasons — but I’m not Jerry Miculek, so I’ll always be able to shoot the 1911 faster than any revolver.)
My 1911 is unquestionably the last gun — of any kind or chambering — that I would get rid of, and I cannot think of any reason other than death that would make me do so. I have two 1911s, of course, because as any fule kno, two is one and one is none: even John Moses Browning’s masterpiece has been known to fail, after all. And yes [sigh], if I’m going to be away from home for a long time (road trip, etc.), I carry both. one on each hip, if for no other reason than balance.
All that is the long way round to explaining why I have more .45 ACP ammo in Ye Olde Ammoe Locquere than any other caliber except .22 LR. I have .45 ammo that I can’t shoot anymore because the 230gr. FMJ absolutely destroys my wrist after about a box or so, but I still have hundreds of rounds thereof because if push came to shove, I’d shoot it despite the pain because then I’d be in extremis. I have more .45 ACP ammo on hand than I could reasonably be able to shoot for the rest of my life — a statement all the more sadly true the older I get.
Which leads me to the next question: which guns am I unlikely to need as I reach my appointment date with my old companion, the Grim Reaper? That question has proved surprisingly easy to answer, which is why so many of my rifles recently went on the block. I’m never going to go hunting again; that itch has been well and truly scratched because I’ve killed enough game to satisfy just about anyone, and I find myself increasingly reluctant to shoot birds — so my Bucket List item to go shooting high birds with Mr. Free Market at some titled toff’s estate is probably going to remain unchecked. So all my hunting rifles have gone bye-bye, along with a very satisfactory quantity of ammo to feed them.
Which leaves the AK-47. I keep this for completely different reasons than I keep the 1911: it is the ultimate SHTF gun, the gun which, as the man said, you’d want when civilization has crumbled, the jungle and its bunnies have taken over, and you need more firepower (and reach) than your handgun provides. As with the .45 ACP, I have way more 7.62x39mm ammo than I’m ever likely to shoot in my lifetime, but that’s just a factor of my shortage fear: over the years, every time some gun-control advocate has spewed his vile agenda, I’ve bought another few boxes or so of “39”, which is why the locker still can’t be carried except by crane or forklift. It’s the reason behind National Ammo Day, and that reason remains as valid today as it was back then.
And that’s pretty much it. My bedside gun, the S&W Mod 65, requires little restocking because back during the Dubya decade I found an unbeatable deal on Winchester 110gr, and I bought about ummm four large ammo cans’ worth for practice. (At today’s prices — eeek! — that sounds indulgent, but that’s not what I paid for it then, so it still serves as practice ammo when I feel the need to shoot .357 Mag, which isn’t very often.) I have a modest supply (about a thousand rounds) of .38 Special ammo which serves as both practice ammo for the Mod 65 and my backup Mod 637, along with some good Hornady hollowpoint self-defense ammo for the latter. I hardly ever practice — maybe every other month or so — with both revolvers because they are, in the end, guns intended to be used at halitosis range so accuracy isn’t really at a premium. Those couple-thousand .357 and .38 rounds are more than I’ll ever need.
And that’s it, more or less.
Alert Readers will note that in all the above, I’ve made no mention of plinking and its concomitant ammo, .22 LR. This is because (repeat after me): .22 firearms are not guns, but household appliances and tools like a frying-pan or a vacuum cleaner; every home should have at least one of them, and .22 ammo is therefore a household commodity like sugar, salt or coffee.
With rimfire ammo, then, there are no limits. In my case, I have jillions of rounds thereof because I love shooting it, I shoot it often, and it’s excellent practice as well as fun.
For those Readers who are at my stage of life and at my stage of shooting preference, feel free to use the above as a guide, if you wish. For younger Readers who still have the hunting urge and so on, feel free to set your own limits when it comes to both the variety of guns and the ammo required. In my own case, I used to have at least 500 rounds for each of my other guns, and a little less for each of the mil-surps which I used to collect back then (and which I seldom fired in any event).
In the end, it’s your self-defense, your survival and the guns which must guarantee both. For those, you need not five or six months’ supply, but as much as you would need for a lifetime of shooting, shortages be damned. You yourself must decide what works for you, so plan accordingly.
Finally, some here might think that I’m preaching to the choir on this topic, and I hope I am. In that case, you can use it as confirmation that you’ve done the right thing; if not, you can use it as a guide to your goal stock amount.
…and then I got serious.
