In the '60s, while in grade school, my brother won one of those candy selling contests. He had a choice of prizes, one being a 22 rifle, which he chose, and brought home on the school bus.
You reminded me... before I bought my first car (Junior year), there were quite a few occasions when I rode the public bus home after a match. Nobody seemed to care about the presence of my target rifle, which was unmistakable in its hard case plastered with NRA bumper stickers.