I still have mine and use it occasionally. But here's my favorite story.
1987, I get my muzzy license and over christmas break my dad wants me to go do a drive in Allamuchy which is 1.5 hours north. Just me and him. Where we hunted was a 40 minute walk in and 1.5 hour drag out. I'm not that into it. I'm super into surfing so he said "check the waves, then we'll go". Waves suck so off we go.
We drive north and set up in the parking lot - go to load the gun and, NO RAMROD. We are dead in the water. He's like - no problem, I know what to do. We drive to the sportshop - closed over the holidays. We then end up going to the hardware store and buy 1/4" dowling.
Reset in the parking lot. I'm given strict instructions as where to walk and sit and my dad is going to wait and do the drive.
I set up, have the dowling ready for a re load. It's dry and crunchy and cold...
What sounds like a small army marching becomes 2 dozen deer standing right in front of me. I put the iron sights on one of the bigger does, squeeze it off and she goes back down the hill in the other direction the rest of the deer went.
My dad shows up, sweaty as heck cause he had to run down then up the mountain to turn them. He's wearing a woolrich pant outfit and blaze orange vest and wool hat. No under armour back then.
We find the blood and track the doe to literally the bottom of the hill, the WORST place a deer could die. I weigh about 130 lbs so not much help.
Nevertheless, 2 hours later we are heading home with a big fat doe in the back of a Datsun b210 wagon and couldn't be happier.
I'll never get rid of my renegade.