My first love was a farmer’s .22 pump rifle, its J4 Weaver skinny as a .410 shell. At first the thick crosswire danced wildly in pond-water sight pictures. But after a time, rats in barns and granaries tumbled to its .22 Shorts. Later, a 40-X Remington from the DCM hooked me on bull’s-eyes. A few nickels bought a box of Long Rifle cartridges and an hour of coaching in Earl’s basement range. An Anschutz 1413, then University matches and Olympic tryouts put me on the path to state prone titles.

A lot of hunters fire their hunting rifles less often than they change oil in their pickups, particularly when each shot can end up costing the better part of a dollar or more. On the other hand, a .22 rifle can be fed for pennies a poke. Its mild snap and tap on your shoulder won’t bring on a flinch. Scaled-down rimfires suit slight, short-limbed youngsters. Now “tactical” .22s simulate AR-15s.

Rimfire rifles have sold well through roller coaster economic times since the days of Buffalo Bill. The .22 LR has become the best-selling match and small-game cartridge ever and a lethal self-defense option in handguns. Its bullets out-penetrate those of .25 and .32 pocket pistols. No centerfire rifle cartridge has come anywhere near matching the .22 LR’s production total, now adding billions annually.

While the .22’s mild report and recoil pamper beginning shooters, .22 rifles have also fueled the careers of exhibition shooters, like Annie Oakley, Ad Topperwein and Tom Frye. In bull’s-eye competition, match loads nip into one hole at 50 meters. In 1959, the .22 Winchester Magnum Rimfire (WMR) blessed hunters with a longer case and stiffer charges that sent 40-grain bullets at 2,000 fps. CCI gave the .22 LR more zip in 1977, with Stinger ammo that booted 32-grain hollowpoints at 1,685 fps. Similar loads from Winchester and Remington followed.

So shouldn’t .22 rifles and handguns sell themselves? They do; but smart dealers boost profits by giving them premium shop space and offering customers plenty of options in rifles and ammunition. Posters and paraphernalia that evoke the .22’s long history can increase and hold traffic.

Rimfires now bring shooters to games unimagined 30 years ago — Metallic Silhouette and Bench Rest matches, for example, scaled for rifles in .22 LR. Ranges too short for traditional MS and BR events welcome rimfire matches. Shooters are spared the investment needed to compete with centerfires.

As understudy rifles, rimfires excel. Tactical .22s that mimic AR-15s help shooters refine their skills for three-gun matches in places off-limits to the .223. The modest cost of .22 LR ammo puts good marksmanship within economic reach of nearly anyone.

While tides of new rimfire rifles wash onto manufacturer websites each year, many firearms buffs insist the best of .22s are behind us, discontinued as rising production costs priced them out of the market. But for shooters craving MSR (modern sporting rifle) rimfires, now is the time to shop! Among the most appealing are S&W’s M&P 15 series, faithful in profile to AR-15s. At retail, these sell from about $500. Another spittin’ image MSR in that price range: Mauser’s M-1522. Mossberg offers the same looks and feel in its 715T for as little as $350. Some .22s on “tactical” rosters mimic other infantry rifles — Mauser’s AK-47-22, for example. Chiappa sells an M1-22 with the profile and handling qualities of the U.S. M1 Carbine, while the RAK-22 brings to mind the AK-47. These list at $300 and $520. Rock Island Armory manufactures a TM22 Feather and a TM22 Sniper of original design, to retail at $180 and $340. The KelTec SU22 sells at $520.

Gun shops can also profit from used and discontinued rifles. Demand for secondhand .22s stays pretty constant, driven by customers who want to save money and by those who just appreciate rifles from “the good old days.” Some shoppers look for a particular model they had in their youth, or to complete a collection.

Historically, dealers have been reluctant to stock upscale .22 sporters — used or new — that tie up as much cash as centerfire rifles that tend to sell faster. Certainly, the path to profits from carriage-class bolt-action .22s is rocky. Winchester found so with the sporting version of its Model 52 target rifle, 1934-’58. A modern interpretation, Kimber’s 82, endured from 1980 into the ’90s. Dan Cooper worked for Kimber in Oregon, then started building his own .22 in Montana. With an action modeled on those of custom gun-makers, single-shot Cooper 36s boasted figured walnut stocks. “Each rifle cost $2,000 to build,” Dan told me. “We priced them at $600. We made 75 before deciding high volume wouldn’t reverse that margin.”

In 2001, Cooper’s 57M repeater appeared, its three-lug action long enough for the .22 WMR and .17 HMR. My 57 in .17 prints half-minute groups! But after brisk sales to true believers, the 57 stumbled. From 2007 to 2011, Weatherby’s classy .22 sporter on an Anschutz action faced similar headwinds.

To limit such risk, Springfield Armory catalogs its Model 2020 Classic bolt-action in four grades, determined by the figure in the walnut. Prices start at a comfortable $590. Browning has re-introduced its elegant T-bolt straight-pull rifle at $750. Filling racks with high-end bolt guns makes little sense, but their presence reminds customers that .22 rifles are real rifles and that your shop serves firearms enthusiasts.

Pump- or slide-action rimfires date back to Winchester’s John Browning-designed Model 1890 rifle of that year. It was designed as a replacement for the company’s 1873 lever-action — which, despite its great success in .44-40, sold poorly as a rimfire. Initially in .22 Short, Long and (individually) WRF, the 1890 added the .22 LR in 1919. It would become Winchester’s most popular .22 repeater ever, with 849,000 shipping before WWII.  

Winchester followed the 1890 with the hammerless 61 pump, 1932 to 1963. Remington produced its 121 from 1936 to 1954. Savage’s 29 had a longer run: 1929-’67. High production costs eventually doomed them all.

High-quality lever-action .22s are also expensive to make. Winchester’s superb 9422 disappeared in 2004. Marlin’s 39 lever-action, progeny of Annie Oakley’s 1897, held on until 2020. Browning’s lithe, slick-shucking BL-22 lever-action remains, as do more affordable alloy-frame Henrys.

Self-loading .22s have enjoyed heady demand since before WWI. Top-selling .22s now include S&W’s M&P 15-22 Sport Rifle, available in camo finish. Volquartsen builds match-accurate self-loaders with piston-slick actions, target-quality triggers and boldly contoured stocks of brightly-hued laminates. Such rifles grab customers by the lapels.        

The Ruger 10/22, most popular .22 auto ever, has tweaked its profile and features to keep up with a shifting market. The first 10/22, in 1964, was designed to look, feel and cycle like Ruger’s .44 Magnum Deerstalker Carbine of 1961. The .44 was discontinued in 1985. “But more than 300 configurations of the 10/22 have since sold,” said Ron Nelson, who began working in that production cell in 1989, after its first three million rifles. “We had eight people then. Fifty work here now. At times of high demand, we can box a rifle every 30 seconds. Still, returns are rare. We get fewer, by percentage, than any other cell.”

The 10/22 has been bored for the .22 Magnum (1999 to 2006) and the .17 HMR (in 2004). Only .22 LR versions are listed now. “The .22 WMR is a pill,” explained Ron. “Bolts must be heavy, so they were made of tungsten — hard to machine. We used a steel receiver, instead of alloy. Costs escalated.”

Changes in the manufacture of 10/22s include use of MIM (metal injection molded) parts. “Metal particles, molded under pressure, need little if any final machining,” said Nelson. “Production rates edged up when we stopped making parts from bar stock. We saved time and money with polymer trigger guards, too. Naturally, we tested the polymer and even drove pickups over 10/22s on pavement. No guard damage.”

The 10/22 has been called the world’s most accessorized rifle. Applauding that cottage industry, Ron insists aftermarket parts won’t make a 10/22 more reliable. “We’ve spent 50 years combing every mechanical glitch you can imagine out of this .22,” he says, “And it was nearly glitch-free to begin with!”

You needn’t know how a rifle is built to sell it to someone who doesn’t care. But as prices climb, customers want to know more about what they buy. You’ll gain credibility and trust if you tell them interesting things they don’t know.

A deep knowledge bank is especially helpful if you’re selling used rifles. Unless they’re buying a beater for the truck, most shooters welcome details on the model they’re considering. When was it made? About how many were produced? Was it discontinued? Why? Has it any design elements worth knowing? As the study of firearms from even one manufacturer can be an endless project, you’ll want a current copy of the Blue Book of Gun Values behind the counter. But you should also bone up on each used gun as it’s logged in. Customers remember who best answers their questions and who can help them make an informed buy. That should be you.  

Dealers often wish they could get more secondhand .22s to re-sell. Among reasons relatively few rimfires march through the door:

1. Unlike many centerfire rifles, rimfires get used, often year-round. The cash value of a used .22 is commonly less than the practical value of keeping it around.

2. Many .22s are hand-me-downs – “first rifles” that have sentimental value to the owner and/or the family. Often they’re kept to introduce shooting to the next generation.       

3. Rimfires bought for youngsters — especially rifles at entry-level prices — have stocks too short and triggers too heavy or rough for accurate shooting by adults. Resale value suffers.

4. As pest rifles in pickup racks and scabbards, .22 rifles get wear and tear that affect the price a shop can pay or charge.   

5. Of the herds of .22s reclining in closets, mud rooms and farm shops, few have high collector value or draw interest from discriminating shooters, limiting their value in resale.

The appeal of a .22 is rarely limited to its utility. A customer prowling the secondhand rack may be indulging memories or contemplating untold stories behind the rimfires at hand. A “Can I help you?” is an interruption, welcome or not. A shared trip into the past can be more productive. Listen first. Then, if you’ve a story, offer it! Some scarred old rifles have endured real adventure.

 

What About .17s?

In 2002, Hornady engineer Dave Emary necked the .22 WMR case for a 17-grain, .172-diameter bullet. Poised to debut as the .17 HMR (Hornady Magnum Rimfire), its success was hardly assured. Sales of .22 WMR rifles remained tepid; .17 HMR cartridges would cost more than the .22 LRs shooters would cite in comparisons. But the .17 got Steve Hornady’s nod. He engaged CCI to form and prime cases, then load them with Hornady bullets. “CCI specified a minimum first order of five million rounds,” said Dave “and we had to buy plates to load 1,200 at a time!” But the bet paid off. Shooters bought 146 million .17 HMR cartridges in 2003.

Emary and CCI engineer Brett Olin soon began work on a .22 LR-length .17 rimfire. It emerged as a necked-down CCI Stinger, with 17-grain V-Max bullets at 2,100 fps. Hornady trademarked it “Mach 2.” While the HMR has since outsold the Mach 2, both have succeeded at market. The .17 HMR has 600 fps on .22 WMR loads. Pointed .17 bullets trim the .22’s momentum advantage and remain supersonic at longer range. In accuracy tests with 10 rifles of different brands, three yielded sub-inch averages for five 5-shot strings at 100 yards! An inexpensive Savage drilled a .34-inch group at 100.

As with selling .22 rifles, appealing displays of both guns and loads help clinch deals for .17s.