The Pistols I Sold in My Twenties That I Would Pay Twice Their Value to Get Back

Photo credit: Auman Woods/Youtube

In your twenties, you think the next gun will be better. Or you need cash for rent, tires, a wedding ring, a truck that decided it hates alternators, or a semester of “just one more” community college class. So you thin the safe and tell yourself you can always buy another one later.

Later shows up with higher prices, fewer deals, and a lot more sense about what actually works. Here are 20 handguns I let walk in my twenties that I’d gladly overpay to have back—not because they were all perfect, but because they earned their keep in ways I didn’t appreciate at the time.

1. Ruger Mark II (5.5-inch bull barrel)

This was my cheap practice machine, and I treated it like a spare tire. It was never picky, never dramatic, and it made me look like a better shot than I really was when I was learning trigger control.

I sold it because .22s felt “less serious” back then. Dumb. A good rimfire pistol is a range membership you can afford, and the older Mark IIs have a feel that the newer stuff doesn’t quite copy.

2. Glock 19 Gen3

There’s nothing romantic about a Gen3 Glock 19 until you’ve tried to replace one that ran flawlessly for years. Mine did. It fed cheap ball, it fed decent hollow points, and it never cared how dirty it was.

I moved it to fund something shinier and more “interesting.” That one hurts. The 19 is the boring answer that keeps being the correct answer, especially if you want magazines, holsters, and parts everywhere.

3. SIG Sauer P229 (German frame, .40 S&W)

This was a heavy little brick that felt like it was carved out of a transmission housing, and I mean that as a compliment. It pointed naturally, and the DA/SA trigger taught me to run a first shot like an adult.

I didn’t love carrying the weight, and .40 got unfashionable. Still, those older 229s have a smoothness and durability you feel the first time you rack the slide. I wish I’d kept it as my “bad weather, hard use” pistol.

4. Smith & Wesson Model 19 (4-inch, blued)

This one was a hand-me-down situation, and I treated it like a tradable asset instead of a family story. K-frame .357s balance in the hand like they were designed by someone who actually shot revolvers for a living.

Was it the right platform for a steady diet of nuclear .357 loads? Not really. But with .38s and sensible magnums it was pure joy. Try buying a clean one now without feeling it in your teeth.

5. Ruger GP100 (4-inch stainless)

I sold the GP100 because I thought it was too bulky and old-school. Then I spent a decade trying to find another revolver that shoots full-power .357 without beating itself up or beating me up.

The GP isn’t fancy. It’s a fence-post tool of a revolver. But it’s the kind of gun you can toss in a truck console, take camping, shoot snake loads, shoot magnums, and not worry about babying it.

6. Colt Detective Special (2-inch)

Six shots in a snubnose feels like cheating now that everyone’s used to five-shot small frames. Mine had honest holster wear and a buttery double-action that made you want to shoot it slow just to enjoy it.

I sold it during a “revolver phase is over” moment. Turns out the phase wasn’t over; I just hadn’t learned what a good Colt trigger felt like. Finding one that hasn’t been abused is a chore now.

7. Browning Hi-Power (Belgian, worn but tight)

This pistol had that slim, flat profile that disappears on the belt better than most double-stacks. It also had a pointing quality that makes you understand why so many serious people carried it for so long.

I let it go because I wanted a rail and modern sights. I get why people do that. Still, the Hi-Power is a classic that’s also actually useful, and the good ones have gotten expensive fast.

8. Beretta 92FS (Italian)

The 92FS is big, but it’s the kind of big that shoots soft and tracks flat. Mine ran like a sewing machine, and the open-top slide design shrugged off junk ammo better than it had any right to.

I sold it because I decided I wanted something “more compact.” Then I learned that a full-size pistol that’s easy to shoot well is its own kind of advantage, especially when you’re tired, cold, and your hands aren’t working great.

9. CZ 75B (pre-omega, all steel)

The first time I shot that CZ, I remember thinking, “Oh, so this is why people won’t shut up about these.” Low bore axis, weight where it matters, and a grip that fits a normal human hand.

I moved it along because I didn’t want to chase magazines and parts back then. Now CZ mags are everywhere, and I’m the one chasing that exact feel again. Ask me how I know.

10. Heckler & Koch P7 PSP

This was my “I’m not sure I should own this because I’m not sure I deserve it” pistol. It was weird, brilliant, accurate, and it carried flatter than it looked like it should.

It also got hot, fast, and the manual of arms isn’t for everybody. But the P7 is one of those designs that makes modern guns feel a little lazy. Selling it was like trading a good bird dog for a treadmill.

11. Walther PPK/S (stainless, .380)

Yes, it can bite you. Yes, the trigger isn’t magic. But that little Walther carried like a pocketknife and had a solid, old-school feel that’s hard to find in small pistols.

I sold it when tiny polymer .380s got popular and I wanted lighter. Now I’m older and I appreciate the way steel sits in the hand when you’re actually trying to shoot well instead of just carry.

12. Smith & Wesson 3913

The 3913 is the kind of pistol you forget about until you need it, which is exactly what you want from a carry gun. Slim, reliable, and it points naturally without forcing your wrist into an awkward angle.

I dumped mine because I thought single-stacks were dead. Turns out, for real-world carry under a shirt, a thin gun that behaves is still hard to beat. And the clean 3913s aren’t getting cheaper.

13. Ruger P89 (9mm)

This was my “boat anchor” pistol, and it never apologized for being clunky. It ate everything, including ammo it probably shouldn’t have, and it never once gave me that sinking feeling on the range.

I sold it because it wasn’t cool. That’s the whole reason. Now I’d love to have it back as a glovebox/truck gun that I don’t baby, because it’s built like a cordless drill from the 1990s.

14. Springfield Armory 1911-A1 GI (basic, parkerized)

This wasn’t a custom 1911. It wasn’t even close. But it ran, it shot straight enough, and it taught me what a decent single-action trigger can do for practical accuracy.

I got caught up in chasing “better” 1911s and traded it away. The funny part is the plain GI-style guns are the ones you can actually live with—less stress about scratches, less temptation to tinker.

15. Colt Government Model Series 70

When I had a Series 70, I didn’t understand what I had. It was smooth, honest, and it felt like a real service pistol instead of a range toy.

I sold it to fund a different project and told myself I’d pick up another one. Then prices climbed, and the good Colts started living in safes instead of on belts. I’d buy my old one back even with the worn bluing.

16. Ruger Blackhawk (single-action, .45 Colt)

This one went with me on camping trips and back-road wandering, the kind of days when you might see snakes, coyotes, or nothing at all. It was simple and strong, and it shot better than it had any business shooting.

I let it go because single-actions felt like a novelty. They aren’t. They’re sturdy, easy to maintain, and they make you slow down and shoot right. There’s value in that, especially when everything else is rush-rush-rush.

17. Smith & Wesson Model 10 (4-inch, pencil barrel)

If you want to learn to shoot a revolver, a Model 10 is about as honest as it gets. Fixed sights, great balance, and a trigger that teaches you what “press, don’t jerk” really means.

I sold it because it was “just a .38.” Now I know a .38 you can hit with beats a magnum you flinch with. And the old police trade-ins with good lockup are getting harder to stumble across.

18. Ruger SR9c

This pistol lived in that sweet spot between “easy to carry” and “actually shootable.” Mine was reliable and flatter than a lot of compacts, with a grip that didn’t feel like holding a 2×4.

I traded it off during the micro-compact craze. Micro guns are fine, but they’re not free. More recoil, more drama, and less fun to practice with. The SR9c was a practical compromise I didn’t respect enough.

19. Smith & Wesson M&P9 (1.0, full size)

The first-gen M&P isn’t everybody’s favorite because the trigger wasn’t winning any awards. But mine was dependable, soft shooting, and it fit my hand better than most striker guns.

I sold it to chase a “better” trigger and ended up with a pistol I didn’t shoot as well under stress. A carry gun isn’t just about specs. It’s about whether you can draw it, grip it, and put rounds where they need to go without thinking.

20. Glock 17 Gen2

This was the ugly, beat-up work gun that never stopped working. The older Gen2 frames have a feel that’s hard to explain if you haven’t carried one, kind of slick, kind of perfect once you’re used to it.

I sold it because it was “old.” Now “old” means proven, and proven means something when you’ve seen enough range sessions get wrecked by finicky new guns. I’d take a worn Gen2 that runs over a fancy problem child any day.

If you’re staring at your safe right now thinking about what to sell to fund the next thing, I’m not here to tell you never sell a gun. Sometimes you have to. I’m just telling you to slow down and think about which pistols are boring because they’re reliable, and which ones are special because they don’t make them like that anymore. Those are the ones you miss later.