What began as a project turned into a portal. It became a doorway to a personal past that didn’t exist, and breathed life into a future I knew was out there. So, pour yourself a cup of coffee or a glass of good bourbon. Sit down with me beside the fire. I want to tell you a story.
The Red Plaid Project began with a desire for community and connection. The “deer camp” experience had been more transaction than tradition for me and I craved something more. While I have experienced hunting camps around the world, I never really had that one I could call “home.”
While a map-dot may seem tangible, that which I sought was very much an intangible. Community, belonging, connection, a sense of ownership—those things had all eluded me thus far. I needed a starting point. I began with a gun.
In lieu of a deer camp, I set out to find the gun that had inhabited Mid-West deer camp racks over the last several decades. I connected with countless people across the age spectrum about the platforms and calibers that embodied “deer camp” to them. A few combinations continued to come up. Levers and pumps far outweighed bolt guns. The .30-30 was a fan favorite and the .35 Rem was a consistent force.
Having no experience with either, I decided to find a Marlin 336 in .35 Remington. I wanted a classic platform and have a growing love for lever guns. Additionally, “35” is a very special number for me when it comes to calibers. While a story for another day, it sealed my decision in this first step of the Red Plaid Project. The next step? Find a rifle.
Guns and Roses
For this particular project, I was going to need a rifle in my hands to really execute it the way I wanted. I started perusing used racks in the area but couldn’t find anything that fit my parameters. They were either over-priced for what they were, not period correct for what I was looking for or un-sound in action or barrel—requiring additional expense and gunsmithing to get them where they needed to be.
Harkening back to Part I of this little adventure, the only deer camp I had been personally connected to was by marriage. When that ended, so did my involvement.
With that in mind, I had been in the wonderful world of dating for the last few years. While eye opening and occasionally entertaining, it was overall unproductive. On the verge of giving up on the whole thing and living a quiet life with my two boys, over-nourished chocolate lab and barn cat turned couch cushion named Pumpkin, I went out on a date. He was a friend whose gun knowledge is akin to an encyclopedia, and has a Texas drawl like warm honey. That evening not only altered my hermit mindset, it also gave me the traction to actually put the Red Plaid Project on paper.
A few days after that first date, I got a special delivery and a text message. The delivery was a dozen white roses in a towering vase. The text? A picture and a message. The picture was two Marlin 336s in .35 Remington. The message: “Andi: I know how much you want to do this story. Here are two guns for you to use to get you started.”
And so it began.
While both were Model 336s in .35 Remington, there were some distinct differences. First was age. One was a 1975 model based on its serial number. The other was a late 50’s vintage indicated by the letter prefix of the serial number located rear of the trigger.
Second was optic configuration. The newer model had primitive sights front and rear. The older model had the classic Leupold gold ring M8 in a fixed three power. The finish was both era-appropriate and in good shape.
The older model boasted the straight-stock configuration with a well-worn oil finish and factory-fitted plastic buttplate. The wood was in good condition and the sling swivels properly affixed front and rear.
The newer version showed more miles in the fragile lacquer finish. This stock was of a traditional pistol grip structure with an intact and well-fitted grip cap.
I decided I wanted to utilize both for this project. The first one with the Leupold scope, I gave a good cleaning and oiling and called it good. Being a fan of oil finishes, I applied a couple of coats of Boiled Linseed Oil to the stock. This sealed the grain where open and gave a nice dark luster to the somewhat dehydrated wood. I prefer boiled vs. raw linseed oil because of the faster drying time between coats as well as the darker, richer end result. There are some other good oil options out there, but unless you plan on nibbling on your stock, something food grade (like walnut oil) isn’t necessary.
The combination of the straight stock, solid optic and wood/metal integrity caused me to leave it essentially untouched.
The second required a little more attention to get where I wanted. Seeking some panache on the sight plane, I reached out to Andy Larsson at Skinner Sights for help. With the aid of the Wyoming sight drifter and awesome step by step instructions, I was able to swap out front and rear sights on the second rifle.
Once at the range, I used a 100-yard zero for both rifle systems. This would allow for functional engagement for my outer ranges (around 150 yards) down to my up-close encounters (sub 50 yards). I did some shooting at my incremental ranges (50/100/150) to get a firm feel of the relationship to my zero.
With irons, I was able to keep my 100-yard 5-shot groups at just over two inches—slightly below this with the scoped configuration. These groups tightened up at 50 yards to 1 ½ inches for both rifles.
Both rifles shot well and handled the Hornady LeveRevolution ammunition with ease. I experienced no feeding issues out of either rifle. After spending range time with both, I was comfortable to our Northern Michigan deer-hunting norm of sub-150-yard average shot opportunities. I was deer-season ready. Well, almost.
Dress for Success
Remember where we started? I have a closet full of Kuiu and Sitka and a gun room of high-tech, long-range, carbon-fiber goodies. The closest thing I had to vintage hunting gear was a second-hand Mossy Oak hoody my now 19-year-old son outgrew 10 years ago …
I needed a red-plaid jacket, but it had to have the history woven into the weathered wool like the marks on a well-loved gunstock. A pristine, “new in box” dynamic just wouldn’t do. It took seven months to find, but a beautiful Woolrich buffalo plaid jacket in my size arrived just before Christmas. Along with two dozen white roses…
It was time to hunt. With limited time, lots of snow and upheaval in previously accessible hunting land, my time afield was sparse. The moments out were that much more precious though because they were so few.
I learned a few things carrying these rifles afield. They are lithe and nimble in the hand leading to smooth and quiet stalks. They carry like an extension of your person and not a foreign body slung over your shoulder. Ergonomically, the balance point is comfortable and effective for one-handed carry—either dominant or non-dominant. Overall, the carry and hunting experience was both enjoyable and comfortable. It solidified why this particular combination had/has been a fixture in deer camps for multiple decades.
No non-range shot opportunities presented during this last hunting season. But the experience was cherished just the same.
Not About the Hunt
And here is where the project became a portal. What began as a two-part story turned into something life changing. In my pursuit for a classic deer rifle to somehow build an attachment to a past that wasn’t mine to claim, I opened the door to a future that was entirely mine to craft.
As a gunwriter, I have focused on the new, the cutting edge and the high-performance. Carbon-fiber barrels, high-BC bullets, optics that can do everything but make a sandwich and stocks that weigh just ounces all fill my writing docket and gun room.
This adventure has changed that in some ways. Instead of the hunt, I crave the moments around it. I want to stop and listen to the snow coming down. I want to hear the stories my rifle has to tell and not just peel off the barrel sticker when it comes out of the box.
I want to percolate a cup of coffee and not just set the coffeemaker to go off in the morning. I crave the sounds and smells of bacon in cast iron mixed with the puff of smoke from the woodstove as a log is added. Most of all, I crave presence that only comes with an appreciation for the past, an openness for the future and the ability to just breathe in the gift of today.
This story made me slow down and see the beauty in the past—dings and all—and recognize the potential in the “rifle under the rust.” It ignited a fire to learn about the rich heritage of not only hunting, but the humanity and history that goes with it.
The Red Plaid Project began as a tale about capturing the American whitetail deer camp experience, but it became something so much bigger than a map dot or even a mindset. It’s a legacy and a life.
In the months and years ahead, we will be exploring some incredible guns. From iconic calibers and classic platforms to one-of-a-kind pieces, we are going to delve into the rich tapestry of stories only unique and timeless firearms can tell.
Thank you for walking with me on this journey thus far. I can’t wait to share this next chapter with you!
Happy Hunting!
-Andi
