I always joke that I learned how to shoot way too young. I was five years old, a year before kindergarten, but my grandma always said I should have waited until I was at least seven. My first gun was a third-generation hand-me-down, a .22 caliber rolling block, single shot rifle. It was an old gun, created sometime in the late 1800s and handed down through my family until it landed in my hands back in the 1980s. I might give it to my nephew if he ever moves out of California.