You Will Shoot Your Eye Out

There are guns you keep because they’re precious, and there are guns you keep because they earn their place. My old Marlin Model 60W sits squarely in the latter camp. For years, it’s been the squirrel rifle I grab before any walk in the underbrush: inexpensive, unpretentious and ready to work. You don’t fuss over it. You don’t polish every inch. You sling it, you hunt with it, you hand it to your kid when it’s time to learn — That’s kinda the point with the Marlin Model 60.

Designed by Edward Nichol and based on the earlier Model 99 platform, the initial Model 60 was introduced under the “Glenfield” sub-brand. It featured several cost-saving measures over its predecessor, including a rust-resistant brass inner tube for the tubular magazine (which turned out to be an improvement), a birchwood stock instead of walnut and a receiver grooved for tip-off scope mounts.

Early models were stamped with “Marlin Model 60G,” later changing to “Marlin Glenfield Model 60” in the late 1960s. They also sold countless private label versions for Sears, Montgomery Ward, Western Auto and others.

Time’s Up

Sadly, if you don’t already own a new Model 60, you’re out of luck. Marlin quit building rimfire rifles in 2020, right before the brand was purchased from Remington by Ruger. As the Ruger-built Marlin centerfire lever actions have literally sparked a resurgence in lever action sales, I can imagine the big brains at Ruger have at least considered bringing back this model that sold over 11 million guns during its run.

Current (used) prices run between $150-200 at the time of writing, with certain special or dolled-up models bringing upwards of $500.

The story of the Marlin Model 60 is like the sweet spot of where marketing meets practical thinking. Designed by Nichol in — surprise — 1960, it was initially introduced as a simple, reliable, inexpensive tube-fed, direct-blowback semi-automatic .22 LR.

It wasn’t glamorous or especially prized, but what the Model 60 lacked in pizzazz was more than made up for by the fact that it was an awful lot of rifle for not much money. It wasn’t trying to be an art piece; it was an everyday tool, and it hit the mark well.

Over the decades that followed, Marlin made small changes to the rifle nearly as often as the wind changed direction. So many, in fact, it’s hard to compile a definitive list without lots of research, and there are still disagreements as you’ll see.

However, the endless variants over the years gave shooters options without changing the fundamental character of the rifle.

Marlin produced everything from stripped-down economy models to nicer wood-stocked trims with better sights and even checkering. Barrel lengths varied; there were factory-scoped versions for precision plinking, and later runs brought stainless finishes and synthetic stocks for the rougher life.

Because of the low cost married to good design and value, you see Model 60s everywhere: at the farm, at the summer cabin, in firearms training programs and in the hands of hunters who want something that will keep putting bullets precisely on target without drama.

Groovy Times

A big part of the Model 60’s reputation comes from Marlin’s micro-groove rifling. Instead of a few deep grooves like typical rifling, Marlin cut a greater number of very shallow channels into the bore. The idea was to gently grip the bullet and stabilize it without the deformation that deeper lands can cause on the soft lead .22 bullets.

The result—especially in a ballistically-forgiving cartridge like the .22 LR — is consistently good accuracy. The Micro-groove rifling was also much cheaper to manufacture, as fewer passes of a rifling tool are required. It was truly a win-win situation for this mass-market-appeal rifle.

For field work like squirrel hunting, where most of the shots are inside 50 yards, the accuracy of Model 60s is first-rate, especially in light of the cost. Most folks get less than one-inch groups at 50 yards, but if you find the right ammo your particular rifle adores, the scope is decent, all screws are properly torqued, and you’re feeling fine, half-inch groups aren’t out of reach.

Such accuracy is right at 1 MOA, which seems almost impossible with a rifle only a few steps above a BB gun in terms of design and material.

The last time I “officially” measured my rifle, years and years ago, according to an old story I wrote, the group was .7 with run-of-the-mill practice ammo off an improvised rest.

At least a hundred-fold squirrels could equally testify as to its deadliness, but they can’t because they ended up swimming in gravy. In the end, micro-groove rifling gave the Model 60 a real edge in accuracy at a price everyone could afford.

The value of practicality extends to maintenance. The Model 60 is famously straightforward to keep running even without much in the way of cleaning.

Though the receiver is chock full of levers and springs that aren’t easy for a novice to repair, removing the two action screws takes the metal off wood and lets you lubricate and wipe off the notoriously dirty powder residue of the .22 LR.

However, even if you don’t do this, provided you keep the area around the chamber reasonably clean and the bolt well-lubricated, the Model 60 will run until you get tired of shooting.

Coupled with the fact that parts are widely available and inexpensive, even if you likely have to pay a gunsmith to do the work, the low maintenance and part replacement costs make ownership less injurious to the wallet.

One Man, One Rifle

The particular Model 60W that I own is a special version fitted with a gold trigger and a medallion in the stock saying “Safety, Ethics, Sportsmanship.” Herein starts a controversy I blame on the Internet. According to multiple online sources, the 60W designation stands for “walnut stock.” Um, no, it doesn’t, at least not that I can verify as fact.

I’ve seen this claim on at least one authoritative-looking website along with numerous forum posts. I will consider the possibility there was an earlier Model 60W with a walnut stock but I’ve seen no pictures or other specific data verifying they even exist.

Ultimately, I think this is one of those things where somebody claimed a sheer guess as fact and it became enshrined on the internet. After all, once something has been cited online, it is now the honest and true gospel, regardless of the actual truth.

“My” Model 60W has a straight birch stock, standard action with 13+1 capacity and was supposedly made exclusively for the big box store that starts with “W” and ends in “-Mart,” at least back when they sold guns. If I remember correctly, that’s indeed where I purchased it nearly 40 years ago.

I’m not sure what the medallion is supposed to symbolize but regardless of the bling, it’s been a faithful companion for decades. One source says the 60W was an NRA co-promotion of general shooting sports with Wally World, and I think this explanation makes sense.

Another mystery item is the rearward-most screw. It is properly inletted into the stock and would appear to be the aft takedown bolt — but it isn’t. Remove it and you’ll have a largish Phillips wood screw that doesn’t seem to secure anything.

I’ve also not seen a takedown diagram yet that shows this screw. If anyone has an idea what it was intended for, let us know because I’m certain Marlin wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of machining out the stock and adding the screw simply for decorative purposes, when it can’t even be seen. I dunno!

A Domestic Partner

What makes the Model 60 feel like a member of the family is not just how it shoots but how it wears. Because the rifle is affordable, it invites use. You don’t baby it. Dings, scratches, and a scuffed stock are badges of time spent outdoors, not reasons to hide it away. There are times when my rifle seems a bit on unattractive side but then I step back and realize it simply has ‘character,’ an elusive and hard-to-earn quality in today’s digital world.

This cheapness is actually liberating. It’s the rifle you take to the briar patch and don’t lose sleep over when a thorn takes a swipe of the finish. It’s the rifle you hand to a friend who needs to borrow a .22 for some reason.

There’s a cultural element to the Model 60’s ubiquity. A .22 rifle that’s affordable and dependable becomes a rite of passage: first shots, small game seasons, teaching younger shooters firearm safety and respect.

It’s a workhorse in the most literal sense, useful for general shooting fun while ridding the world of evil tin cans at the dump, clearing pests and providing the main ingredient for a squirrel fry in the early fall. You can count on it in the same way you count on a good pair of boots — not flashy, but you’d be shorted without them.

Universal Truths

Call it sentimentality if you like, but there’s a practical poetry to a rifle that earns its patina. My Model 60W has a considerable number of cosmetic scars from years of use, and the stock wrist shows a dim polish that comes from countless hands and winter gloves.

The only problem I’ve had is when I somehow lost the brass inner magazine tube while walking back to the car carrying a couple of tree rats by the tails. One quick search on the internet and a new one was in my mailbox in a few days for the price of a workday lunch. It’s hunting done cheap.

Even as a single-shot until my replacement tube arrived, it still pointed the same, shot the same, and it still got the job done. What more could a shooter want?

Ultimately, when you strip things down to the basics, what remains is a rifle with a clear mission — reliability, accuracy enough for the work at hand, that’s cheap to own and keep, and conventional enough that you can hand it to the next generation without a second thought.

This is why I’ll keep calling the Marlin Model 60 the “ultimate workhorse” of .22s. It’s not beloved for being delicate or exclusive or even beautiful in the common sense. It’s purely beloved because it’s always there when you need it — season after season, squirrel after squirrel.