If you need convincing that the American attitude “biggest is best” applies directly to sportsmen, take a look around. The steadily increasing sizes and horsepowers of boats and motors alone should assuage any doubts. But perhaps the longest-standing example of the American sportsman’s continuous quest for equipment that is bigger, faster, and more powerful is found in firearms. But since I’m not much of a rifleman, let’s point this column at shotguns and attendant game loads.

First off, understand I’m no ballistics expert. Therefore, my comments come only from hunting experiences with everything from a .410 single-shot to a semi-automatic 10-gauge “super-magnum.” Although a lot of shooting teeth were cut on the barrels of the former, teen-age hunters usually wasted no time in replacing the light, lackluster single-shots with man-size guns. I was no exception.

When a summer of mowing lawns at the cemetery produced a 16-gauge Ithaca “Featherlight” pump with a 30-inch full-choke barrel and a magazine that held five shells, I was convinced everything I drew a bead on was duck soup. Seldom seen nowadays, the 16-gauge was then considered an all-around shotgun. To increase its versatility, however, I had a Poly-Choke fitted to my prized possession – but not without a biggest-is-best concern that shortening the barrel to accommodate the variable choke device would reduce the gun’s range. In the early 1950s, you may recall, waterfowlers shouldered guns with 30-inch barrels, and 32-inch barrels separated the men from the boys. Better yet, there were “Long Tom” goose guns sporting 36-inch tubes.

‘Course in the normal run of things, I became convinced that serious duck hunters toted nothing less than 12-gauge magnums. So there went the Christmas Club money. Shortly thereafter, I was buying shells for a 12-gauge Remington “Wingmaster” chambered for 3-inch shells – full choke, 30-inch barrel, of course, not to mention a ventilated rib and recoil pad. And with it I bought the myth of at least 20 more yards of range.

In all honesty, kind reader, it would be impossible for me to describe my disappointment. As it turned out, that big gun belting out big loads didn’t do a thing to increase the amount of duck dinners served at my house, but I sure brought home more bruised shoulders and cheekbones. Painfully, then, I eventually realized a 3-inch shell loaded with 13/8 ounces of No. 4 shot driven by 3 3/4 drams of powder didn’t reach any farther than a standard 2 3/4-inch shell loaded with, say, 1 1/4 ounces of No. 4’s and 3 1/4 ounces of powder.

Clearly, the advantage in a 3-inch magnum is in more shot striking game. That, however, can be compensated by conservative shooting with standard loads, which costs a lot less and is by far more productive than long-range shooting. As for those 10-gauge cannons chambered for 3 1/2-inch shells, I’m convinced they’re most beneficial to manufacturers of shotshells and Advil.

Although I now believe the biggest-is-best attitude regarding shotguns and loads is largely psychological, and therefore difficult to displace, I admit my earlier convictions regarding barrel length, chokes, and loads for waterfowl shooting lasted until a few years ago when I landed in Scotland for a driven bird and waterfowl shoot.

It’s no secret that wing-shooting, or as the Sports across the pond more accurately call it, “shooting flying,” was born in Great Britain. With that in mind, I arrived resigned to keeping my safety on until told to do otherwise, so to speak. I was astounded, however, to learn we would be shooting low-base, 2 1/2-inch shells – standard chambering in English shotguns – loaded with their No. 6 shot, which is about the same as our 7 1/2s.

Considering our targets were overhead pheasants, partridge, ducks, and geese at ranges of 30-40 yards average, I thought we’d be better off throwing rocks. But I was no less taken aback when my loader suggested I use my L.C. Smith’s 26-inch barrels bored improved and modified. “A great game gun, that’ll be,” he said, ignoring the 30-inch, full and modified barrels secured in the gun’s case. If my skepticism showed, it also was ignored – much to my benefit. The result being that I now pay a lot less for shotgun shells and gun cases.

Granted, we used lead shot in Scotland, but I didn’t hesitate to apply the shotgunning principles learned there to steel shot. Accordingly, I prefer 4’s and 6’s – more shot – to the recommended 2’s for regular duck shooting and see no reason for more choke than improved cylinder. The exceptions, of course, are sea duck and goose shooting in which bigger shot is needed to drop the big, heavily feathered birds.

Owing to advanced shotshell technology and improved powders that produce higher energy, 27- and 28-inch barrels now provide peak shotgun performance. Therefore, 30-inch barrels are becoming as scarce as handcarved decoys.

Another oft-heard, biggest-is-best claim I consider to be way off target is that a 20-gauge, 3-inch magnum is the equivalent of a standard 12 gauge. Wishful thinking, that – unless you’re selling shotguns and shells.

All of this, of course, comes to down to a matter of personal choice. And being that I’m a firm believer in “To each his own,” I’ll say that if a waterfowler believes in and shoots well with long barrels, heavy loads, and tight chokes, he shouldn’t even think about anything less. From what I’ve seen of it, though, my personal opinion is that when it comes to shotguns, biggest isn’t best, and one of things I appreciate most about that mind-set is the lack of headaches and ringing in my ears.