It's been several years
since Speer introduced their Gold Dot Short Barrel Personal
Protection 38 Special +P loading. It looked good on paper, and the
Gold Dot line has a superb reputation for performance, but many of
us prefer to carry well-tested ammunition. Let someone else be the
guinea pig!
Sporadic reports have come in that the Gold Dot load is "working";
Massad Ayoob told me that he's heard around the country that people
are "satisfied" with the performance. Still, I'd not been able to
run down anything more specific.
That is, until yesterday, when one of my clients called. He's a
higher-up in a large metropolitan police department and a long-time
revolver carrier. He indicates that his department has had several
shootings with the Speer load, and that he personally knows two of
the officers who have used it. His verdict? The load performs as
advertised - very effective at stopping violent action.
He notes, based on his agency's long experience with the famous
158gn +P loads from various makers, that the new Speer 135gn
appears to be very similar in terms of terminal effect. "No
complaints", was his succinct summation.
Owing to my unnatural fascination with old and abandoned things, I
find the concept of an aircraft boneyard to be absolutely
irresistible. The most famous of them is no doubt theAerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Centeroutside of
Tucson, butthere are
others.
The Russianshave such
things, too, and they can be a
fascinating glimpse into the "other side" of the Cold War.
If you've hung around here
for any length of time, you've noticed that on Mondays and
Wednesdays I try to keep the blog somewhat on the topic of
firearms, preferably on revolvers.
Today is not going to be one of those days.
Why? I was so busy over the weekend I didn't even get a chance to
think about the blog, let alone write anything! Well, that - and
the fact that my elbow hurts like heck!
As you may recall, I'm suffering from a very painful occurrence of
tendonitis in my right elbow. So painful, in fact, that it hurts to
type! As I mentioned last week I took it fairly easy for several
days, and was feeling vast improvement until I did something so
innocuous that I am startled at the outcome. It involved a Junkyard
Dog.
As it happens I live equidistant from the knife companies of
Kershaw and Benchmade (and, by extension, the firms of Gerber,
Leatherman, and Lone Wolf Knives. I guess you could call this
"Edged Alley"!) Over the years I've bought many Benchmade knives,
and generally avoided the Kershaw brand. Kershaw just didn't have
the quality of blade that I desire in my knives, and despite having
met Pete Kershaw himself I was never persuaded to carry one of his
products.
When Kershaw moved a lot of their production from overseas to right
here in my own stompin' grounds they got my interest, but not
enough to make me want to put one of their products in my pocket
every day. It was when I found that they were transitioning from
the use of cheap 440A and 440C steels to Sandvik steels that I
became truly interested.
(Bear with me - this does eventually get back to my
tendonitis!)
I have quite a bit of experience with Sandvik blades, particularly
with their 12C27 steel as used in thefamous Swedish Mora knives. It is, in my estimation,
one of the better 'all around' steels that one could use on a
general purpose knife. It holds an edge well, is very resistant to
breakage, and is easy to sharpen. The fact that there were almost
no folders made out of that superb yet underrated steel annoyed me
greatly, and I was left to console myself with my Moras.
It was when I found out that Kershaw had gone to Sandvik steel
(13C26, a very close relative of 12C27) that I decided I had to
have one. The Junkyard Dog II had gotten rave reviews over
atBladeforums, so I decided that I was to
get one.
(Luckily my wife intervened, and got one for me as a gift, thus
saving me from the guilt of buying it for myself!)
It arrived at the end of last week, and from the start I was
smitten with it. Fit and finish is quite good, easily up to the
Benchmades that I own, and at the price point it is astounding. I
haven't gotten a chance to resharpen the edge and really test it
yet (any factory edge is downright primitive compared to what a few
minutes with a set of stones can achieve), but I expect great
things.
The trouble is that the blade is really quite heavy, and flicking
it open delivers a solid "whack" to one's muscles. I was
absentmindedly doing that while watching television the other
night: opening and closing it repeatedly, just because it's fun to
do. After about a half-hour of such foolishness I found that my
elbow was as sore as it ever was, and then some!
So now you have, as Paul Harvey would say, "the rest of the
story."
In last week's
article, I mentioned that there was
an ancient religious principle that can help keep you safe from
firearms accidents. Allow me to digress for just a moment to give
you the necessary background.
As you may know, Orthodox Jews have a rather rigorous set of rules
that they follow. According to their tradition, there are 613
commandments in the Torah (their Bible, which consists of the books
of Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy.) Imagine
trying to keep track of, let alone follow, 613 commandments!
To make the job easier and to prevent the unintentional
transgression of a commandment, they have a concept calledgezeirah,
which is explained as "building a fence around the Torah." This
idea, which goes back roughly 800 years, refers to the additional
precepts that one should follow to avoid even coming close to
violating a commandment itself. They supply a sort of early warning
system; if you know that you've broken the lesser rule, you know
that you're in danger of violating the more sacred one.
Now I'm not saying that everyone should run out and become Orthodox
Jews (you'd have to give up Saturday morning cartoons and pepperoni
pizza, for starters), but the concept of a "fence" around a core
set of rules is as good for keeping us physically safe as it is for
safeguarding their spiritual well-being.
So, if our overriding precepts are the Three Commandments of Gun
Safety:
Never point a gun - any gun, loaded or
unloaded - at anything you are not willing to shoot.
Keep your finger out of the triggerguard until you are ready to
fire.
Know where your shots will land and what they’ll touch along
the way.
What kinds of rules might
constitute our "fence"? Well, they might include the "Seven Rules
of Dry-Fire":
- Select the proper time and place
(alone, no distractions, safe backstop).
- Remove all live ammunition from your training area (including
those in your own gun and the gun that you will use for dry
fire).
- Go into “practice mode” state of mind. Say out loud:
“This is practice time, I am going to practice
now.”
- Perform practice.
- When practice is over, go into “reality mode.” Say
out loud: “Practice is over, this is real.”
- Put the gun into the condition in which it is normally
kept.
- Put the gun away immediately (secured).
The NRA has a poster of 10
or 12 firearms rules that could constitute another fence, and I'm
sure you'll find more. Some may be very general, others may be
specific to the range you're using or the particular shooting
activity in which you're participating.
These additional rules don't relieve you of the need for always
following the Three Commandments, and are never to be considered
any exception to any of them. They are asupplement. They provide one extra
guard, one extra layer of security, before you're put into a
situation where the "fail-safe" of the Commandments is all that
stands between you and grievous injury. They set up an attitude, a
frame of mind, that makes an accident all the less likely.
For instance, I have my own fence: my shop is a sterile area,
meaning that there is no live ammunition in the shop area proper.
(Need I mention that there are no exceptions?) I still follow the
Three Commandments, mind you, but following the rule of no live
ammo in the shop area makes the constant handling lots of guns even
safer.
Now go and sin - ballistically speaking - no more!
As I
promised, here are some more
reloadingaccoutermentthat I've been
playing with this year.
I finally got tired of my haphazard brass organization and decided
to do something about it. At Wal-Mart I bought some Sterilite
6-quart plastic containers, which just happened to fit neatly on
the shelves in my reloading room. Into the containers went all of
my brass, and wonder of wonders - I can see what's in the box! (I
have, of course, labeled them as well.)
Big plus: I can see how much of each I have; no more digging
through cardboard boxes! They've really made dealing with brass
much more pleasant.
Here's an idea that someone gave me (though for the life of me I
can't remember who it was.) At my local pet emporium I purchased
this cat feeder, which has now been turned into a self-feeding
bullet dispenser!
Much better than a tray/bin/overturned box for those long reloading
sessions. Cost: $4.95. I'm looking for Dillon to have them made up
in blue plastic, with a price tag of $19.95. (I'm kidding, I'm
kidding! Sheesh, lighten up!)
Some months back I reported that I was experimenting with new
bullets and powder. I'd been using the Rainier Ballistics plated
bullets for some time, but could never get acceptable accuracy from
them. (This is, as I was to learn, not an uncommon complaint with
the product.) When my stock finally got low enough, I started
looking around for a better but affordable "bulk" bullet for
general use and gun testing.
I came across a polymer-coated lead bullet put out byMaster
Blasters, and gave them a try. I've
gone through about 5,000 now, and am fairly happy with them. They
are a definite step up accuracy-wise from the Rainier, though
they're by no means a top-flight match slug. (For occasions when I
need better accuracy, and can shoot lead, I continue to rely on the
superb bullets put out byLaserCast- still the ones
to beat, in my book.) They are, however, reasonably priced and the
company is fairly quick to ship.
Along with the new bullets, I changed my "everyday" powder. I'd
used Hodgdon Universal Clays for years in 9mm, .45 ACP, and .38
Special +P loads. It is a great powder for those uses - extremely
clean (the cleanest I've used), and good accuracy. When I started
loading standard pressure loads in .38 Special and .44 Special,
however, a problem cropped up: Universal doesn't like light loads!
Once the loading density falls to a certain point, unburned powder
grains become a certainty. They really foul up a cylinder, and
always find their way under the extractor!
I searched for a powder that would burn cleanly and completely,
even with relatively mild loads. I ended up with Alliant Red Dot,
and it has performed very well. It's a bit sootier than Universal,
but burns completely in all loads - even very light .44 Specials.
I've used Blue Dot for years in Magnum cartridges, and was
impressed by it; the Red Dot is just as impressive. (I'm not a fan
of Alliant Bullseye, which I've always found far too dirty, but the
"Dot" line is really quite nice. The fact that you can readily
identify it in the powder measure - they really do have red flakes
and blue flakes mixed in - is a nice bonus!)
A reader alerted me tothis thread over at GlockTalk, where a debate about the
first of Jeff Cooper's "Four Rules of Gun Safety" is raging.
Specifically, the argument centers on the allowable "exceptions" to
Rule #1: "All guns are always loaded" (or, alternatively, "Treat
all guns as if they were loaded.")
I feel entitled to comment, inasmuch as the observance of said rule
by gunsmiths has been invoked as one of the "exceptions." I take
exception to that exception, and in fact take exception to the very
notion of exceptions! Allow me to explain, and perhaps start some
exceptional controversy of my own.
To be blunt: I don't like Rule #1. In fact, I believe that it is
not just unnecessary, but that it actually sets people up to have
accidents. I don't believe it makes anyone safer - I contend that
it has the opposite effect.
It boils down to this: people do stupid things with guns that they
perceive are unloaded. (Re-read that line, focusing on the word
"perceive.") Once people have convinced themselves that a gun is
unloaded, they treat it differently. That is where accidents
occur.
The trouble with Rule #1 is that it encourages such shoddy
behavior.
Follow me here: "treat all guns as if they were loaded" tacitly
admits that there are, in fact, two states for a firearm - loaded
and unloaded. If there were not an unloaded state, it would not be
necessary to admonish someone to treat a gun "as if" it were in the
loaded state, would it? If unloaded guns did not exist, the
statement would make no sense. Therefore, the phrase itself
establishes that there exists such a thing as an unloaded gun.
Clear so far?
While Rule #1 logically admits that there is such a thing as an
unloaded gun, it asks us to pretend that it doesn't really exist.
This is important, as the rule only makes sense if the state of
being 'unloaded' exists, but it implores us to make believe that
such a state doesn't really exist. This situation is calledcognitive dissonance: holding two contradictory
beliefs simultaneously. It's a state of mind that humans don't
tolerate all that well.
If one accepts the fallacy that an unloaded state doesn't exist, it
becomes clear in the mind that the remaining three rules apply only
to loaded guns. After all, the first rule says that there is no
such thing as an unloaded gun; therefore, the other three rules can
applyonlyto loaded guns, because -
remember! - unloaded guns "don't exist."
Here's where that cognitive dissonance thing comes back to bite us.
The human mind cannot maintain two contradictory concepts ("there
is such a thing as an unloaded gun, but it doesn't exist because
all guns are always loaded") without resolving them in some
fashion. The way that most (if not all) people apparently resolve
this is to apply the rules to all guns,unless they've convinced
themselves that the gun in question isn't
loaded.
In other words, to resolve the logical conflict that Rule #1
establishes, the mind translates it to say "treat all guns as if
they are loaded,unless you've verified
that they aren't." The other three rules are
tossed right out the window, because they obviously don't apply
tounloadedguns!
See how this comes about? If not, re-read the preceding
paragraphs.
That, gentle readers, is the crux of the problem! The sad side of
Rule #1 is that it implies once you've verified a gun is unloaded,
the rest of the rules don't apply to it; you may handle it
differently. That's when the accidents come, and is why I say that
people do stupid things with guns that theythinkare unloaded.
Proof? Easy: it is axiomatic that all gun accidents occur with
unloaded guns. Those are guns that people had convinced themselves
were not in the loaded state, and therefore didn't fall under the
rest of the rules. No matter what the experience or training level
of the person involved, "I thought it was unloaded" is the first
excuse out of their mouths when something bad happens.
Need more? Here's an interactive proof: go into any gun store, and
watch as customers (and often the counter clerks) sweep muzzles
over everyone in the store. Now complain to a clerk about the
shoddy practice; I guarantee the first thing you'll hear from his
or her mouth is "don't worry, it's not loaded."
Still not convinced? Ask Massad Ayoob to tell you the tragic story
of a well regarded and highly experienced competition shooter who
accidentally killed his wife - with an "unloaded" gun, of course.
My contention is that he followed Rule #1 like most people, but
that its logical failings caused him to treat the gun differently
because he was sure it was unloaded. The result was sadly
inevitable.
This is why the forum debate runs so many pages, and ultimately
devolves into the attitude "of course, Rule #1 doesn't apply
toexperiencedshooters, who
understand what the exceptions are." I'm sorry, folks, but I
believe that any safety rule that implies or encourages
"exceptions" - experienced operator or no - is a "rule" that should
be thrown out.
One of the best shooting instructors I know - Georges Rahbani - has
done just that. He acknowledged the problem and dealt with the
issue by eliminating what I'll call "Traditional Rule #1" from his
curriculum. Instead, he teaches thatany and allguns, loaded or unloaded,
are treated to thesamestandards, which he
calls
The Three Commandments of Gun Safety:
Never point a
gun - any gun, loaded or unloaded - at anything you are not willing
to shoot.
Keep your finger out of the triggerguard until you are ready to
fire.
Know where your shots will land and what they’ll touch along
the way.
There arenoexceptions, and thus less
chance for the accidents that usually result from them.
These rules build on and cover for each other; should someone
accidentally violate one of them, the other two remain operative to
prevent an injury. The goal of gun rules is to prevent injury or
death, to the shooter or others; if one follows these rules without
exception, whether the gun is loaded or not, it will reduce that
risk to the lowest probability.
As you might guess, in my line of work the chances of a negligent
discharge are somewhat higher than usual. Consequently, my interest
in the safety rules is higher than usual! The online debate
mentions that gunsmiths must, out of necessity, violate the
Traditional Rule #1 and thus don't need to follow the other
rules.
Not in MY shop, bunky!
I follow the Three Rules as codified above. I don't point a gun
(any assembly capable of igniting a cartridge) at anything I'm not
willing to shoot. That means, in my case, a solid concrete wall in
the back of my hillside shop. Because of that, I know what my
target is, and what the backstop is. Finally, I don't put my finger
into the triggerguard until my sights are on target (the gun is
pointing at that backstop.) Yes, all the time and every time; I'm
rather fond of my various body parts, and desire to retain them in
full operating condition!
I think that's enough pot-stirring for one day. Next time, we'll
see how an ancient religious principle can help to reinforce the
constant observance of the safety rules.
This last year I've been using a number of new reloading tools and
components. I'm generally one to "stick with what works", but that
doesn't stop me from looking for something better!
Late last year I bought a new Hornady Lock-n-Load progressive press
(known as the "LnL AP".) This is a five-station auto-indexing press
with a motorized casefeeder. I bought it after becoming
disenchanted with my Dillon and Lee presses - though I can always
find something to like about any press, I'd prefer to have all my
favorite things in one press which means I can never stop
looking!
(Just so you know where I'm coming from, I've often bemoaned the
lack of a true high-grade reloading press. No, Dillon fans, "Big
Blue" isn't it! If you've ever used a Star Universal, you'll
understand. If you haven't, well, go back and read my recent
articleo you need a trigger job?">Do you
need a trigger job, and substitute "press" for
"trigger" - the rest of it is the same!
You may well ask why I don't use a Star if I'm so hot on them.
Well, it's because they're out of business and there are precious
few parts and accessories available on the secondary market.)
Back to the topic....the LnL AP uses the Hornady bayonet-mount die
system, in which the dies are put into adaptor sleeves and
adjusted, then simply popped in and out of the toolhead where and
when needed. Frankly, when this came out I thought it was the
biggest gimmick I'd yet seen. Using the press for a year has
convinced me otherwise. It is incredibly handy!
For instance, I often have the press set up for loading .38/.357.
It's not at all uncommon to need to prep a few pieces of brass to
test actions or extractors or some such thing. I can just pop the
needed die out of the toolhead, then pop it into the single stage
press (which I've fitted with the Hornady adaptor and adjusted so
that the presses have exactly the same die position.)
It also makes doing in-press changes easier on a progressive press.
For instance, I can have a die adjusted for .38 Special, and a die
adjusted for .357, and simply swap them in/out where needed. The
same goes for the powder measure; I can decide to put it in a
different place on the toolhead to accommodate production changes
or simply to experiment. You can't believe how useful the system is
until you've used it - and once you have, you don't want to ever
give it up!
I've come to the conclusion that if one is a SERIOUS handloader -
that is, reloading for numerous cartridges and constantly
experimenting - the LnL AP is the most flexible and most efficient
choice in a progressive press. As I said, I've owned Lee and Dillon
presses too, and while they both have their strong and weak points
the Hornady is just in a different class. Great piece of
gear.
Over the years I've used a number of reloading dies, and no one set
has had everything I wanted. I've gotten to the point that my die
sets are now pieced together with the dies that I like best, not
what a manufacturer has decided to give me.
In handgun sizing dies, I prefer (in order) RCBS, Lee, and Dillon.
I love the Dillon's spring-loaded decapping pin, but hate their low
profile, hex-shaped bodies. (Great when permanently mounted in a
toolhead, rotten if you frequently remove/replace/adjust them.) The
RCBS is much better in the handling department, worse for the
decapping pin; the Lee's decapper likewise is awful, but at least
their body is tall enough to get a grasp on - even if it is smooth
and a bit prone to slippage in one's fingers.
(I should take this opportunity to say that Lee's lock rings suck.
Then again, so do Dillon's, Lyman's, RCBS's, and Redding's, though
admittedly not as much. All of my dies, regardless of make, have
for years worn Hornady lock rings, and the first thing I do with
any new die is to ditch its lock ring and give it Hornady
ring.)
I've recently started using the Lyman "M" series expander die, as
opposed to the expander plug in the powder station. It sizes most
of the case to just a hair under bullet diameter, then has a slight
"step" to bell the mouth so that the bullet isn't scraped when
seating. This is said to promote straighter bullet seating, and in
that regard I believe it does. For me, though, the great part is
that the cases seem to "grab" onto the bullet when you insert it
into the mouth. Unlike with a plain flare, the bullet won't tip as
the case starts moving into the die. You can even put a pullet into
the case mouth and advance between die stations with no tipping!
This is another product that I thought might be "more show than
go", but I've grown to just love the thing.
While we're talking about seating, I think the best seating die is
Hornady's, and no one else is even close. Their sliding bullet
collar is a great idea for helping to straighten bullets as the
case goes into the die, and their seating adjustment is very
precise. All of my seating dies - handgun and rifle - are now from
Hornady.
I don't crimp in the seating die, preferring to do that as a
separate step. I've used Lee's Factory Crimp dies in the past, no
matter what other dies they were with or what press they were on.
I've been very pleased with their smoothness and ready
adjustability, but this year I started using the Redding Profile
Crimp die for .38/.357. It puts a taper crimp on the case, then a
roll crimp at the very end. It is of top quality, like all of
Redding's products, and produces the most consistent, best-looking
crimps of any die I've ever used. I'm hooked.
The major thing I dislike about the Hornady press (and Dillon's,
for that matter) are the primer tubes. I much prefer the Lee tray
loading primer feed, but of course I can't use that on the LnL AP!
I've found a solution in the form of a neat little tool from Midway
called the Vibra-Prime. It's a battery operated collator that fills
the primer tubes for you! Now to be fair, Dillon has a
bench-mounted device that does the same thing, taking about 2
minutes per tube and costing around $200. The Vibra-Prime was about
$30, and does the job in roughly 20 seconds. Hmmm...no contest
there!
Sadly, I'm told that Midway has discontinued the device because of
"poor sales." If you're tired of loading primer tubes one-by-one,
call Midway and tell them you'd like to see the Vibra-Prime
reintroduced!
That's about it for the hardware side. I'll write soon about the
software (bullets and powder) I've been using this year - I've made
some changes there as well.
It occurs to me that not
everyone who stumbles into my little corner of the internet
necessarily knows whether he or she needs my services. I receive
quite a number of emails that essentially ask "should I have a
trigger job done on my revolver?"
(I am aware that asking a gunsmith that question is tantamount to
requesting that the fox guard the henhouse. Still, I'd like to take
a crack - hopefully a fairly objective one - at the topic.)
There are a lot of factors involved in this decision. Are you happy
with the action of the gun as it is? Do you have a frame of
reference to really know if you're happy with it? Are you able to
tell the difference? Is your experience level such that you can
take advantage of the results?
Believe it or not, it's the second of those questions - having a
frame of reference - that is the most important. Without it, the
others can't be addressed in any meaningful way. Simply put, have
you had the opportunity to handle (and preferably shoot) a revolver
whose action has been tuned by a good gunsmith? I don't mean a
factory "custom" gun - I mean a real custom from someone who knows
their stuff. The difference can be like night and day, and until
you have one in your hands everything might seem good.
It's a little like eating a great steak; if all you've ever had is
hamburger, you can't imagine how good a steak is. Once you've had
the steak, though, the hamburger is far less satisfying than it
used to be. Your ability to judge has been expanded by your
experiences, and the same is true with the action on your
revolver.
True story: I was at the gun counter of a large outdoor retailer
one day, and they had just gotten in a then-new S&W
"Performance Center" wheelgun. (If memory serves, it was a 627.)
I'm always interested in what's coming out of the P.C., so I asked
to see it. Right away I noticed serious shortcomings in the fit and
finish, but when I pulled the trigger I was taken aback: the double
action quite literally felt like someone had stuck a playing card
in a bicycle's spokes! I shook my head as I handed the specimen
back to the clerk.
Before he could put it away, however, someone else came to the
counter and asked to see it. This fellow and his buddy gushed
enthusiastically as they looked the gun over, finally pulling the
trigger. The guy holding the gun said "man, you have got to feel
this trigger - it's like butter!" The second fellow tried it and
concurred that it was the "best trigger I've ever felt - boy, you
sure get what you pay for with a Smith & Wesson!"
Propriety forbade me from educating them and possibly ruining a
sale for the store, but the incident serves to illustrate that some
people perhaps don't know that there can be something better. (In
some cases, a whole lot better!)
Once you have a standard - a frame of reference - against which you
can judge, you can then answer the first question: are you happy
with what you have now? You may in fact be quite happy; your gun
may be good enough for the task at hand, even if it isn't the very
best. For instance, my wife and I have gotten along for many years
- quite happily, I might add - with a plain old RCA 21" television.
(Yes, a twenty-one-inch!) Your children probably have better
televisions in their bedrooms, but for us it is good enough. We
don't watch much TV, rarely play a movie (we own exactly 3 DVDs),
and thus for our use it is perfectly fine. On the other hand,
someone who likes to watch lots of sporting events, or is a movie
buff, would find it annoyingly limited.
Can you appreciate - and take advantage of - a highly tuned action?
Can you tell the difference between what you have now and what it
could be? This isn't as silly a question as you might
believe.
Case in point: I'm not much of an oenophile. I can count the number
of bottles of wine I've drank in my 40-plus-years on one hand, with
fingers left over. (Yep, I'm a lightweight.) I have, however,
tasted some very expensive and special wines at various functions
over the years, and therefore have the necessary frame of
reference. On me, though, the differences between a good wine and
"Two Buck Chuck" are lost. I simply can't appreciate the
difference, and what's more I don't care because I don't drink
enough wine to enable me to care!
The same is true with revolvers. Many people, some of them very
good shooters, really can't feel a difference between a factory
action and a tuned one. One day at the range I handed my personal
Colt Detective Special to a fellow who had been shooting a
bone-stock example. They were like night and day - the factory one
stacked horribly, was rough as a gravel road, and weighed in at
roughly 12 pounds. Mine? Buttery smooth, no stacking, and broke
right at 9 lbs. This fellow, however, couldn't tell the difference
- he handed it back with an apologetic look and said that he was
sorry, but it didn't feel any better to him!
As you might surmise, I was a bit disheartened. But it illustrated
to me that not everyone cares about this stuff as much as I do, and
it would be unconscionable of me to talk them into something that
they really don't need - at least, not right now.
The foregoing is a long-winded way of saying that if you don't know
there is a difference, can't feel the difference, or don't care
about the difference, don't feel pressured to spend money - with me
or anyone else. Whether it comes from shooting magazines, gunstore
commandoes, or even my website, don't buy what you know in your
heart you can't use. Spend the money on ammunition instead, and
enjoy yourself.
(Boy, I hope I haven't talked myself out of a job!)
First, I'd like to thank
everyone for reading this series, and for the terrific emails I've
been getting. I'm gratified that many of you share my interest in
good looking revolvers, and in what garners that appellation for
each of us.
While not exactly part of the series, I'd like to take some time to
convey my thoughts with regard to customization, and the kinds of
work that adds to, or detracts from, the look of a wheelgun.
To start, I consider very carefully what I do to a revolver before
taking file (or anything else) to metal. I think the project
through; how will my work affect not only how the gun functions,
but how it looks? In some cases the work helps (or at least doesn't
hurt) the aesthetics of the gun, while in other cases it looks
horrid.
For instance, let's take the act of bobbing a hammer. Not only does
the result have to work correctly, but it has to serve the same
visual function as that which it replaces. For the Colt and S&W
guns, I've come up with two different approaches to the problem,
which I believe look good on their respective marques. (Can you
believe that I don't have a single picture to show? I've been quite
negligent in documenting my own work!) Both are different than what
most others do, and both are harmonious with the overall design of
the guns.
In the case of the Ruger revolvers, I haven't yet hit on just the
"right" modification. I do a lot of them, and have come up with
something that isn't too bad, but it's no different than any number
of people already have done - and I'm not really happy with the
look. I've recently gone to the extent of scanning a Ruger hammer
in to Photoshop so that I can "play" with the design - which I hope
will lead me to the nirvana I seek. Wish me luck, as there isn't a
lot to work with in their existing design!
Sometimes clients ask me to do things which I believe in my heart
will look awful. A common request of late is to mill flats on the
sides of barrels, ostensibly to shed weight. (I think the real
motivation is a desire to make it look "modern" and "custom" and -
dare I say? - "racy.") Sadly, in every example I've seen - and I've
seen a LOT of them - the look is at odds with the rest of the gun.
(Remember the concept ofunitywe discussed in Part 3?)
Consequently I shrink from the prospect of doing them, and gently
steer the client to something else. (In some cases I've sent the
most intractable to another gunsmith, rather than be the proximate
cause of yet another ugly gun!)
Are there instances where that type of embellishment might be
appropriate to the overall design, and where I might consent to
doing the job? Perhaps - but off the top of my head, I can't think
of one. (Save, perhaps, for the already-blocky Dan Wesson heavy
barrel shrouds - but I think there is a better approach to that
particular assignment.)
This is where the marketing and customer relations parts of my head
chime in, no doubt in concert with a few readers: "it's your job to
do what the client wants, not what you want!" Yes, that's true -
but the selfish part of me wants to ensure that a decade from now,
people won't be referring to my work as "butchery." I confess to
giving in to my selfish side, though in this case I believe that it
is in the best interests of the client to not butcher his/her
gun!
On down the line the deliberations go, each part of the work
carefully considered both on its own merits, and in tandem with the
other parts of the design. It has to work well, and it has to look
good; I can't bring myself to do either separately. Perhaps I'll
never become a huge gunsmithing conglomerate with such an attitude,
but at the end of the day I can look back at what I've done, and
smile with the knowledge that I've contributed - in a small way -
to making the world just a bit better looking.
Life is too short to shoot - or to make - ugly guns. We'll leave
that to the autoloader brigade!
The latest argument from the "experts" delves into Colt advertising
history. Way back when, Colt's advertisements stated that their
small revolvers were suitable for use with the .38-44 "Heavy Duty"
round, which was the predecessor to the .357 Magnum - but in a
Special-length case.
When the Magnum was introduced, the .38-44 went away. It wasn't
until many years later that the more hotly loaded .38 Special +P
made its appearance. It wasn't a throwback, however - it was still
lighter than the .38-44. (Think of the +P as being between the
regular .38 Special and the .38-44 in terms of power, and you won't
be terribly far off.)
The "experts" quickly point out that the .38-44 is far more
powerful than the .38 +P, and the fact that Colt advertised the use
of .38-44 ammo in their guns is some sort of “proof“
that Colt's last factory recommendations for proper loadings are
somehow “wrong.“ They conclude from all of this that
using unlimited amounts of +P ammunition in small frame Colts is
perfectly fine.
Such opinions, aside from flying counter to those of the people who
actually designed and constructed the gun, ignore certain realities
of the times involved.
Yes, Colt did say in print ads that their guns were rated for the
.38-44 round. It doesn't say that the guns wouldn't experience
increased wear, however, nor did it say that they could use that
load regularly! When one examines the ads, it is obvious Colt was
saying the guns wouldn't suffer catastrophic failure from firing
those rounds, andnotthat there would be no
long-term consequences from doing so. There is a difference!
It's important to remember that, at the time, a) there were a huge
number of trained Colt gunsmiths; b) Colt was producing, and had
available, parts for all of the guns (including the frames); c)
shipping restrictions, as in sending guns back to the factory, were
non-existent making factory service far more affordable.
Finally, there was a different gun culture in existence. Today we
think nothing of shooting a hundred rounds just in a quick trip to
the range, but back then it just wasn't like that. A Colt revolver,
even in police service, might only see a hundred rounds a year.
Outside of that, it was extremely common - perhaps the norm - to
buy a new revolver and a box of ammunition, and a decade or two
later still have more than half that box of ammo!
Handguns just weren't shot all that much back then. Handgun hunting
was virtually unknown, handgun sports (outside of regulation
bullseye) didn't exist, and handgun shooting as recreation wasn't
common. Handguns simply weren't used as frequently, and under those
conditions the very occasional cylinder of .38-44 rounds wasn't
going to hurt anything.
That's why Colt makes the 3,000 round recommendation for the use of
+P ammunition in their recent production revolvers. 3,000 rounds
doesn't sound like a lot to us, but even a police officer back in
those days wouldn't expect to shoot that much in his entire
career.
Once you consider all of the facts, it becomes clear that there is
no contradiction between what Colt said then and what they say now.
Times have changed, and their recommendations have changed as
well.
The challenge of revolver design today is in how to bring the
aesthetics up to date, to allow (or take advantage of) advances in
material and manufacturing technology, while simultaneously
maintaining the essence of just what a revolver is. At first blush
this seems like an impossible task: make a modern looking
traditional firearm. Some would say that it's akin to fitting a
muzzle loader with LaserGrips!
I disagree. I think that the essence of the revolver isn't a
traditional look, but rather a familiar operation; of simplicity,
not complication. Don't get me wrong - I like a traditional
revolver as much as anyone, but for me it's always about how the
gun WORKS. I don't shoot, carry, compete with, train with, and work
on revolvers because I'm a nostalgic Luddite; I'm a thoroughly
forward-looking Luddite!
Heretical? Some might say so. Inconsistent? I don't see it. At the
end of the day, it's the cylinder (and the way that it works) that
makes the revolver, regardless of what the packaging looks
like.
Let's take a look at efforts to modernize the wheelgun.
One of the more successful changes in the look of the revolver was
the introduction of the Colt Python (which we've already covered)
back in 1955. The lugged barrel, still debated (and despised) by
some, was a real departure in revolver design.
Smith & Wesson has had their share of "pushing the envelope"
designs too. Some of their more recent efforts are styling
disasters, but they haven't all been - take the groundbreaking
"hammerless" Centennial series, first introduced in 1952.
Photo
courtesy of www.snubnose.info
The Centennial, with its fully enclosed hammer, was a sleeker, more
modern approach to the small frame revolver. The design is much
more forward looking than its "Bodyguard" stablemate; unlike some
designs has aged very well and is still in production. Note the
back end of the gun, where the hammer would normally be - the way
that it comes down to integrate the rear sight and the top of the
grip is so simple, yet so effective. Great design, and can truly be
called a "modern classic."
Sometimes a design needs an iteration (or two...or three) before it
really hits its stride. Take a look at the original Dan Wesson
design:
Dan Wesson photos courtesy of
www.notpurfect.com
The DW was an exciting revolver when first introduced in the late
'60s. Combining modern materials and revolutionary features, it was
sadly lacking in the appearance department. Karl Lewis, though one
of the greatest firearms designers in American history, was not
terribly adept at making his guns look as good as they worked, and
the original DW design was proof.
Where to start? The ugly barrel retaining nut, the inelegant
matching of the "L" shaped barrel shroud and the frame, the
ungainly front sight, the the use of a traditional barrel shape on
an otherwise modern frame all combined to make a look that can only
be described as "horrendous."
A few years later, with some work on both the engineering and
aesthetics, the DW Model 15 finally hit the mark:
The
square-slab lugged barrel with vented rib (they learned from Colt!)
finally combined to serve as a perfect match for the frame. It had
a sort of industrial look to it that still looks good today. Even
on this 6" example, it is visually balanced - a tough thing to do
with a heavy barrel, but the DW pulls it off.
Ruger went through the same kind of evolution, but it took a little
longer. Their original double action design was, like the Dan
Wesson, groundbreaking in many engineering ways - modern materials,
production methods, and the elimination of screws. These were
combined to make the "Six" Series (Speed-, Security-, and
Service-Six models):
Photo courtesy of
www.landro.no
Now understand
that I'm a big fan of the Sixes, but let's face it - they were
pretty ugly. The barrel just didn't mesh well with the squarish
frame (note the steep drop from the top of the frame to the barrel
shank.) It looks for all the world like one of those cheap .22
revolvers from the various German makers that were common here in
the '60s. The inelegant hammer spur didn't help matters,
either.
They did significantly better with the GP100 - the lugged barrel
balances the heavy frame much better - but the barrel still doesn't
quite match the lines of the frame:
Photo
courtesy of www.ruger.com
They kept at it, and finally hit a home run with the SP101 - a
thoroughly modern design, in both construction and aesthetics. It
is, in my humble estimation, the best attempt at a modern
appearance of all of the currently available revolvers.
Photo courtesy of
www.ruger.com
The barrel was a radical departure in profile; no longer
constrained to rather simple combinations of basic geometric
shapes, the SP101 barrel is instead a sensuous "S" curve, which
mates to the lines of the frame exceptionally well. The barrel's
"rib" fits right to the top of the frame, and the recoil shield is
sculpted on the right side. It seems to grow from the frame wall,
rather than being merely attached to it in the manner of the older
Sixes. The ugly hammer spur remains, but it doesn't seem so bad on
this gun - probably because the rest of the design works so well.
(Yeah, the grips stink, but one can at least replace the cheesy
plastic panels with aftermarket wood or micarta.)
How about really pushing the envelope? How about setting out to
produce a radically different revolver? There have been attempts -
the original Mateba designs, the MTR8 (and later 2006M and Unica)
certainly tried:
Photo
courtesy of www.worldguns.ru
These,
however, were attempts to change the very nature of what a revolver
is; how about if we take the accepted design envelope, and
simply...update it? That, folks, brings us to the very radical, yet
still familiar, Manurhin MR 93:
Photo courtesy of
www.army-discount.com
The barrel shroud is square in profile, which compliments the
distinctly angular frame. The cylinder - now something of a round
peg in a square hole - is brought into the design with its squarish
fluting. The recoil shield flares into the frame, in an extreme
update of the SP101 we saw above. The triggerguard features the
same sort of updating (though I could live without the faddish hook
on the front.) Even the hammer spur was simplified, angled, and
minimized to fit the overall theme. The very European grips
complete the package by bringing the otherwise austere gun back to
its roots - rounded so that the hand can comfortably grasp them,
and wood to warm up what could have otherwise been a very cold
appearance.
Remember what I said a while back about the difference between what
you like and what you can appreciate? This is it. You may not like
it; you may think it blasphemous. You may not wish to own it. All
of that is fine and very normal; but you have to admire the
elements, how they hold together and compliment each other, and how
the design is unified, even if you wouldn't want it in your safe.
The eye moves through and around the design very well, and even the
choice of materials is "correct" from an aesthetic viewpoint.
Back on August 29 I wrote that this part of the series might put
off more than a few of you. Here it comes: I think it's one of the
best revolver designs ever. Yes, I'm serious. It pushes the
envelope, but skillfully uses all of the design criteria we've
learned about in this series. It is thoroughly, unabashedly modern,
but manages to retain the essence of what a revolver is. All of the
design elements work so well together, and the design as a whole is
striking - but not in the way the Mateba MTR8 is. At its heart it
is still that traditional machine we all appreciate, even if its
clothing is of a different era.
You don't like it? That's fine! Don't ignore it, though, for how it
looks can teach us much about revolver design, and may even help us
identify just what it is we do (and don't) like.
I hope this series has exposed you to ideas and concepts that you
might not have otherwise considered. If it has done so, I will have
succeeded in my original aim to expand our wheelgun horizons. I
welcome your comments!
Next week, the Epilogue: how I approach customization in relation
to revolver aesthetics, and why I've chosen not to do certain
things.
As promised in the
last installment, today we'll be taking a
look at one iconic revolver and discover how it follows the design
principles we've explored.
The Colt Python easily makes just about everyone's "top 5
revolvers" list. Much of its popularity is due to its gilt-edged
accuracy and superb out-of-box action (though, of course, it can
always be better. This has been an obvious plug.) However, it's
drop-dead-gorgeous looks are no doubt a huge part of the reputation
it enjoys.
So "right" is the look of the Python that S&W paid it the honor
(though they'll deny it) of copying the distinctive barrel profile
in their "L" frame guns. They couldn't get the rest of the gun,
though, and that's sad - because, as we'll see, the Python's
appearance is a function of the whole gun. (Before you shoot off
that hate email, understand that the 686 series are pretty good
looking guns in their own right; it's just that they don't achieve
the high level of design excellence that the Python does. Keep
reading, and hopefully you'll begin to understand why.)
We're using a typical 4-inch Python as our example, since it is not
only the most common, but also the best looking of the various
Python incarnations.
What do we see when we look at the Python?
The first principle we learned about is
proportion- the relationship of
elements to each other, and of the whole design, in all measurable
aspects.The 4-inch version is near ideal; the barrel, which often
looks skinny on other guns, has sufficient volume to hold its own
against the cylinder and frame; in fact, one gets the feeling that
if the barrel were to be compressed lengthwise, its width would
grow proportionally to end up the same dimension as the cylinder.
The trigger and triggerguard are perfectly proportioned to each
other, and the combination to the frame. Note the hammer tang;
having a large pad for easy cocking could have made the hammer
proportionally too large for the rest of the design. Through
judicious thinning and shaping, the designers made a hammer that
complimented the design rather than stood apart from it.
Closely related to proportion, we learned, is the concept of
balance,
or of visual equilibrium. Here again the Python design simply
shines. The Python's gripframe, often criticized for flaring too
much, gives needed visual balance to the heavy lugged barrel and
frame. The gun has a visual center of balance right in the center
of the gun. Contributing to this is the barrel's vent rib; were
that top rib solid, it wouldn't look as balanced as it does. Take,
for example, the S&W copy:
Without the vents in the barrel, it simply looks front heavy
compared to the Colt original; there is a feeling that it will tip
forward, while the Python doesn't. (That huge front sight ramp
doesn't help, either.)
Eye
movementin the Python design is
almost classic. If we start at the muzzle, the lines of the barrel
- repeating between the lug, the central portion, and the rib -
serve to draw the eye toward the cylinder. Once there, the pointed
ends of the flutes send the gaze to the cylinder release, whose
shape directs the eye to the hammer tang. This is were the design
shows a particular genius: the gentle curve and overall shape of
the hammer directs the eye in a clockwise spiral to the grips,
where their shape sends the gaze to the trigger. The strongly
curved trigger - much more curved than on any other brand of
revolver - is a sort of "ski jump" that propels the eye back to the
barrel.
Note especially the cut of the frame under the barrel down to the
triggerguard, and compare it to the S&W. Note how the Python
has just a bit of an angular cut with just a hint of curvature,
which serves to visually lighten the gun and give it a "flying"
feeling. It also serves to help redirect the eye from the trigger
back to the muzzle; the S&W, in contrast, looks "blocky", far
less graceful, and stops the eye dead at that point. Design is
often about such "minor" details!
Which brings us to
emphasis,
or design elements that arrest the eye without causing visual
fixation. It is a design touch that causes the gaze to linger,
rather than stop. It's terribly easy for the eye to leave a
revolver at the hammer or muzzle, because those are points to which
the eye tends to be sent by the barrel and cylinder combination.
That gorgeous Python hammer hammer begs to be looked at, but it
isn't so overwhelming that the viewer's gaze ends at that point; it
serves to slow the eye down, then redirect the gaze to the next
element. Were it larger or smaller, it wouldn't serve the same
purpose. It is a perfect example of design emphasis, as is the
thumb latch that slows the eye down just enough to make sure it
doesn't miss the hammer spur.
The front sight shape - and the barrel vents - tend to keep that
from happening at the front. If we look back at the S&W
picture, you'll notice that the front sight ramp tends to serve as
a launch point unto itself, sending the eye right off the front
sight into space. On the Python, the sight is enough to stop the
eye from taking off into the hinterlands, but not so much that it
becomes a stopping or launching point on its own. The vents are a
point of contrast, being quite angular in comparison to the smooth
curves of the rest of the revolver. That contrast is just enough to
catch the eye, but not enough to look out of place or in conflict
with the rest of the design elements. (As we'll see in the next
part of this series, making a contrast without creating visual
dichotomy is a tough task - and not always achieved.)
Finally, when we look at the Python we see an overall
unity,
the feeling that every element is working to support the overall
design. Achieving unity starts with the finish (which is a point of
emphasis all by itself.) That deep, glassy "Royal Blue" finish for
which the Python is famed is a strong component that ties together
all of the elements. It's not the only unifying feature,
however!
The shape of the thumb latch repeats the shape of the cylinder
flutes, which themselves appear to be continuous from the barrel
lug. (So good is that combination, when you look at the gun as a
whole it almost seems to be one solid piece of steel from the
muzzle to the end of that latch.) Note too how the barrel
cross-section matches the frame contours where the barrel is
attached, and how the contour of the frame under the hammer is
reminiscent of the curve of the triggerguard. (Take a look at the
S&W; note how that same curve is much shallower, and doesn't
really recall that of any other part of the frame.) Even the points
where the triggerguard meet the frame are identical front and rear,
which augments that feeling of cohesion.
I could go on, but I think you get the idea. One must look at
revolver design not just as a series of parts, but also at how
those parts work together to produce a design at which the eye
can't seem to stop looking. The Colt Python is, in that regard,
thene plus
ultraof revolvers.
In the next installment, we'll look at designs gone awry, and find
out why some guns are just plain ugly. Until then, always remember:
life is too short to carry (or shoot) an ugly
gun! -=[
Grant ]=-
A gentleman wrote in asking
about small backup revolvers - that is, a revolver to carry as a
backup to a primary revolver.
I know that many people carry their primary gun on their hip, with
a lightweight (aluminum, titanium, scandium) wheelgun in an ankle
holster, and I know a couple of folks who carry a S&W "J" frame
in a front pants pocket as a second gun.
This is not what the writer had in mind, though. He was thinking of
a very small (smaller than a "J" frame) "subcompact" revolver for a
second gun, in the same way that there are subcompact autoloaders
(Seecamp, Kel-Tec, etc.) to serve as backups to a larger
autoloader. Sadly, the market in this case is pretty limited.
The only one that comes quickly to mind is the North American Arms
"Mini" revolver in .22LR and .22WMR. (The Magnum, of course, would
be a better choice than the Long Rifle, ballistically speaking.)
The trouble with these guns is that 1) I've never seen one that
could be even charitably referred to as reliable, and 2) they are
harder than heck to even keep on an IDPA target at 7 feet, let
alone be assured of a solid hit in the vitals.
Beyond that there are only the much larger S&W "J" frame guns
(and the Taurus equivalents, though I'm not wild about them.)
However, there may be a "blast from the past" that is worth
considering: the Colt Pocket Positive. Never heard of it? Well,
you're in for a treat!
The Pocket Positive was nothing more than a scaled-down "D" frame
(Detective Special, etc.) After all, the "D" frame was just a
scaled down "E" frame (Official Police, etc.) so why not go even
smaller? The Pocket Positive was a tiny little gun - considerably
smaller than even a "J" frame. (A cylinder on the Colt measures
1.240", while the "J" frame comes in at 1.310". What really makes
the difference, though, is the frame - the Pocket Positive is a
tiny, almost jewel-like gun, noticeably smaller than the popular
"J".) The action is, as noted, of normal Colt design, and should
smooth up as nicely as its bigger brothers.
The Pocket Positive was most commonly chambered in the .32 Colt
Police round, aka the .32 S&W Long. Now the .32 S&W round
isn't terribly powerful, of course, but neither is the .32ACP - a
cartridge used and praised in the backup role for many years. The
.32 revolver round has a significantly heavier bullet, so it should
have better penetration than the .32ACP - always a good thing when
shooting a "mousegun." Ammunition is still being made, though the
factory offerings are limited to lead round nose.
Pocket Positives have not yet captured the collecting world's
imagination, and are still available at reasonable prices. I picked
one up a while back for $150, and it's been sitting in my "to do"
pile awaiting some spare time. I think I'll dig that out and put it
back into working order; I think it may be the answer to the need
for a good backup revolver!
(Now if only someone would reintroduce it in titanium...)
In
Part 2, we looked at the ideas of
proportion and balance as they relate to revolver design. Today,
let's look at some more concepts of good design.
Movementseems like an
odd concept for an inanimate object, but it doesn't really deal
with the object itself - movement instead refers to the path your
eyes follow as you look at the gun.
Movement is important to control in a design, because a designer
doesn't want the viewer's eyes to fixate on on detail to the
exclusion of the rest, nor to keep moving off of the design into
space. Both can (and do) happen!
Movement can be directed by edges and lines, by shapes, and the
skilled use of color and texture. For instance, a natural line on a
revolver is the barrel; it naturally directs the eyes back to the
cylinder, where the flutes further direct the eye along the frame.
The same movement happens in reverse. However, that movement needs
to be arrested at some point, so that the eye doesn't wander off
the design into open space at either end of the design. At the
barrel end, the front sight serves to arrest a redirect the eye
back along the barrel; at the other end, the hammer can do the same
thing.
Those points of focus or interruption comprise the principle
ofemphasis. Points of emphasis are
those which most strongly draw the viewers attention. There is
usually a main point of emphasis, though there may be smaller
points in other parts of the design. The eye should linger on a
point of emphasis, then continue through the design. The idea is to
hold the viewer's interest without causing fixation.
Emphasis can be achieved with repetition of color, shape, or
texture; through contrast, again of color, shape, or texture; a
change in scale or proportion; a position in a strategic location;
or through intricacy, or the details of an element. The front sight
is a good example of emphasis due to location, while a checkered
cylinder release can be an example of intricacy.
Finally, all of the design principles should have as their end goal
inunity of design. Unity is the feeling of
harmony between all parts of the design; it should create a sense
of completeness, of wholeness, of a solidity in the design. There
should be a sense that all of the parts are working together to
achieve a common result.
Consistency is the watchword of unity, but that doesn't mean that
there can't be a contrast - perish the thought! As we learned in
the discussion about emphasis, there needs to be some contrast in a
design; unity is not to be confused with sameness!
However, contrast for emphasis is a one thing, while contrast that
disturbs the unity is quite another. Contrast that supports the
function or underlying concept of the design is not the same as
contrast for contrast's sake. For instance, a matte part where the
others are polished; a checkered part where the others are flat; a
round part where others are square, are all examples of contrast
for emphasis. Combining all of those contrasts in one part,
however, produces disharmony, as does using all of those types of
contrast willy-nilly across the whole design. The former promotes
unity, the latter does not!
Unity is obvious, and perhaps the first thing we see when looking
at a revolver. In a small canvas like a revolver, attention to
unity is extremely important. As we'll see later in this series, it
isn't always followed!
There is nothing like learning through example, so in the next
installment we'll take a look at one iconic revolver from the
perspective of these principles.
Before Honda, before Kawasaki, Yamaha or Suzuki, motorcycle racing
was dominated by the great Italian marques. Legendary companies
like Gilera, Moto Morini, and MV Augusta held consecutive world
titles, some of which would stand for years. All of these makers
had their adherents, but the undeniable "big boy" of Italian
motorcycle racing was Moto Guzzi.
The company was formed when three friends - Carlo Guzzi, Girogio
Parodi, and Giovanni Ravelli - were serving in the Italian Army
during World War I. Part of a flying unit, they had complimentary
skills: Guzzi was a talented, though as yet amateur, engineer;
Ravelli was an up-and-coming name in racing before the war; and
Parodi, like his successful father, had demonstrated business
acumen. The three agreed to pool their talents and form a company
to make motorcycles. Ravelli, sadly, was killed only days after the
war was finished, but Guzzi and Parodi soldiered on to form the
company they'd all dreamed about.
Guzzi designed the machines and Parodi (whose father financed the
enterprise) handled the business aspects of the fledgling firm.
They knew that the key to commercial success was a reputation in
racing, and thanks to their combined skill they were almost
immediately successful at both. Only four months after their first
prototypes were completed, company rider Gino Finzi picked up first
place at the prestigious Targa Florio - a win that surprised the
industry.
The company rapidly expanded their pool of engineering talent, and
they would flex their muscle by making amazing motorcycles: a
magnesium-cased, supercharged 250cc; a 4-cylinder supercharged
500cc in 1930; and a 3-cylinder supercharged 500cc machine in 1940.
Despite these advances, their racing reputation would be made with
their more pedestrian - but wonderfully engineered - single
cylinder twin-cam motorcycles.
Those bikes quickly came to dominate the 250cc and 500cc classes,
racking up win after win. In 1934 they cemented their hold on the
top 500cc class with their introduction of the two-cylinder
500ccbicilindrica,
which allowed them a spectacular win in both the 250cc and 500cc
classes at the Isle of Man TT race in 1935. in 1953 they entered
the hotly contested 350cc class, again with a twin-cam single, and
won every World Championship until 1957.
By the mid-50s, though, they were losing ground in the "top dog"
500cc class. The twin-cam singles were decidedly out of date, while
thebicilindricahad been
inexplicably killed off in 1951. Guzzi needed a new bike that could
not just take on the increasingly successful Gilera and upstart MV
Augusta designs, but would rule over them.
Chief designer Giulio Carcano put his considerable talent to work,
and what emerged in 1955 stunned the world: a water cooled, 500cc
V-8 motorcycle. With dual overhead cams and a separate carburetor
for each cylinder, this audacious design pumped out a
then-unheard-of 72hp at a scarcely believable 12,000 rpm. Guzzi was
ready.
Sadly the tire, brake and suspension technology of the day weren't
up to the demands of the magnificent engine, and theotto
cylindrinever achieved the success
intended. Moto Guzzi retired from racing entirely at the end of the
1957 season, and the bike was shelved. This didn't stop it from
leaving a stumbling block for its rivals, though - in its short
2-season career it set several lap speed records which would end up
standing for more than two decades, a parting shot to those who
would succeed them.
Today only two authentic examples remain, both in the possession of
the Guzzi company in the picturesque Italian town of Mandello del
Lario. They occasionally fire one up for a demonstration run on
their test track behind the factory. The sound of the engine is
unmistakable, and reminds us that there was a time when Italy did,
in fact, rule the world - or at least a small part of it.
In the Gunsmithing pages of
this site, I endorse the practice of rendering defensive revolvers
double action only (DAO.) Many people ask why, and I thought I'd
give you my thoughts on the matter.
Let's start with the usual argument for retaining single action
capability, which I call the "Walter Mitty scenario": the mythical
need for making precise long range head shots. Let's face it, folks
- this just never happens in real life!
However, let's say that you're having aJack
Bauerkind of day and are now
facing just this scenario. Mightn't that be just a tad bit
stressful? Wouldn't that make you even more nervous, knowing that
you'll be trying the toughest possible handgun shot under the worst
possible conditions? With all that adrenaline now flowing through
your system, is this really the time that you want a light, short
trigger pull that is very easy to accidentally release? Not me,
bunky!
This is the reason for DAO: light single action triggers are great
on the calm shooting range, but pose a liability risk for
unintentional discharges under stress. As Massad Ayoob says, single
action triggers are great shooting tools, but lousy threat
management tools.
Now I I know what you're thinking: "OK, but I promise I'll never
use it!" I'm sure you mean that sincerely, but It's been well
established over the decades that people tend to do in combat what
they do in training.
It's human nature to practice what we're already good at, and to do
that which is easiest for us. At the range, it's not uncommon to
watch someone shoot a revolver at, say 50 feet and become
disenchanted with their groups. At that point, they usually switch
to the easier pull of the single action, and shoot that way. This
imprints their subconscious to use single action when they are
unsure of their abilities, and this may be what they revert to
under stress.
Once that act of thumbing back the hammer has become habit, another
problem crops up: the Hollywood-inspired (and reinforced) act of
cocking the gun to show the bad guy that you "really mean it!" I'll
refer you back to the second paragraph, with emphasis.
(Yes, I know you'll promise not to do that either. But if you've
told your subconscious that cocking the hammer is accepted shooting
technique, do you think it'll ask your conscious mind for
permission when the time comes - especially if decades of TV and
movies has told it otherwise? Of course not! "Besides", your
subconscious thinks, "ifTyne Dalycan do it, why can't
I?")
Removing the SA capability eliminates the chances of any of this
happening. (If you make the conscious decision to carry a gun with
SA capability, I recommend that you attend theLethal Force
Institute's "LFI-1" class, where you will learn how
to defend that choice - and counter any false claims that may arise
from it - in court.)
From a gunsmithing perspective, I've found that eliminating the SA
capability can, on some guns (Colt and Dan Wesson), give a bit more
leeway in terms of honing the double action. Without the need to
worry about the single action sear, the double action can be tuned
far more radically than is otherwise possible. In S&W and Ruger
guns, reducing the DA pull to the barest minimum (as some request)
will result in an unconscionably light SA pull - often below 32
ounces. Eliminating the SA notches means that this ceases to be a
worry.
Speaking for myself, I didn't start to shoot DA well until I'd
gotten rid of the SA capability completely. True story:
one day (many years ago), shortly after transitioning to shooting
only revolvers, I was participating in a match (Bianchi type.) I
was having trouble with missing those little round steel plates
they use for one stage, and it was making me madder and madder. At
one point the buzzer sounded, and I drew the gun (a Python) and
cocked it for each plate. I downed all of them, but my
happiness was shattered by a taunting voice of a 1911 partisan that
said "hey, Grant, I've got a gun that does all that for me!"
After that I removed the SA from my revolvers and started shooting
DA exclusively. It wasn't long before I was beating the guys
(including the loudmouth in question) who were shooting 1911s with
crisp single action triggers. It can be done!
If you have any doubt as to how accurately a double action can be
shot, go watch your local PPC match - there's one just about
everywhere in the country. You'll see lots of folks shooting DAO
revolvers at up to 50 yards and producing groups that can be
covered by your hand. That should be good enough for any defensive
use, and you too can do it with just a bit of practice!
As I mentioned inPart
1,
there are some recognized design principles that are universal.
Let's look at some of them.
Proportionis the
relationship, in terms of size and scale, among the various parts
of a design, and of each element to the design as a whole.
Proportion is about measurements: length, width, etc. and how those
measurements compare to
Remember that a
revolver is a three-dimensional object: proportion is not just
about length or width, but also volume. If we were to increase the
barrel diameter of a revolver, even a small amount, its proportion
to the rest of the gun would change dramatically - possibly more so
than a simple increase in length. One could also alter the
proportion my using visual tricks to make a part look more "3D" and
increasing its visual volume - even if the part is essentially
unchanged in physical size!
Proportion also applies to every part on the gun. If we were to
increase the size of a hammer spur or triggerguard, it would change
the proportions and alter the design. Maybe it would be better,
maybe not - but each element has to be judged not just on how it
relates to each other element, but how it relates to the entire
object. Proportion is all about relationships!
Balance,
on the other hand, is the concept of visual equilibrium. When
balance is not present, the whole design looks as if it will "fall
over" in some direction (if not literally) Achieving visual balance
can be donesymmetrically, where the elements are
arranged equally on each side of an imaginary balance point,
orasymmetrically, where the elements on each
side of that point are arranged non-identically so that the whole
looks balanced.
The latter is kind of a hard concept; imagine a teeter-totter.
Balance is made when we have two children of equal size on each end
of the beam (symmetrical), but could also be made with one really
fat and two really skinny kids on opposite ends, of of one fat and
one skinny kid, with the fat kid closer to the balance point and
the skinny child at the end of the beam. These are examples of an
asymmetrical balance, and the same principles apply to design
balance.
The interesting thing is that balance is variable, because it
relies on a visual fulcrum for your eyes to focus on, and can be
very complicated, because there might be more than one balance
point. Let's take an example of varying barrel lengths; radical
changes in barrel length might change the visual balance of the gun
depending on where your eye finds a fulcrum. In a good design,
there might be several such points for your eye to rest on,
resulting in good balance with a variety of barrel lengths.
What kinds of things can serve as visual balance points? The
cylinder, the triggerguard, the cylinder latch, the recoil shield,
and so on. Anything that can serve as a reference point on which to
"arrange" other objects is a fulcrum.
Understand that this is distinctly different than physical balance,
and it is important to separate the concepts. A great example is
the Colt Python; while there are small visual changes in the
earliest guns to the latest, the design was essentially unchanged
from start to finish. An early 4" example has the same visual
balance to a late model, yet the physical balance changed
dramatically - because the lug on the earliest models was hollow,
giving a distinct rearward weight bias. So, the guns had the same
visual balance, but very different physical balances.
Next time, we'll examine some more concepts of design as applied to
the revolver!
What makes one revolver look
better than another? Have you ever stopped to think about the
design cues that make the difference between a classic and an
eminently forgettable gun?
In this series, I'm going to relate my opinions and prejudices
regarding revolver design, primarily (though not exclusively) from
the standpoint of factory guns. All of the concepts, however, are
equally applicable (perhaps "especially applicable") to custom
guns.
One thing to keep in mind as you read that these are my opinions,
nothing more. I don't claim to be a design guru like, say,Jonathan
Ive.
What I can claim is to be a casual student of industrial design,
and of art in the larger sense. (Growing up with a mother who was
an accomplished artist and designer assured that I would understand
such things, even if I wasn't terribly creative myself! I guess
that's the best description of a critic.)
There exist well accepted design concepts, but that isn't to say
that good design is carved in stone; if it were, we could just
program robots to spit out our stuff and get some extra sleep! It
is in the combination of design elements, with the occasional
surprise or personal interpretation, that keeps the process of
designing from becoming formulaic.
Some of what is people consider "good design" is really quality of
execution. A great design, badly executed, is crap; a less grand
design, but well executed, can be superb. Sometimes learning to
recognize quality is a necessary prerequisite to appreciating good
design.
(Engraving is a good example; I've been to gun shows where there
was a good cross section of engraving quality. Invariably those
guns with the most coverage get the most attention, but to the
trained eye their lack of quality detracts from what might have
been a great work of art. In my view, bad engraving is worse than
no engraving.)
Finally, remember that 'popular' isn't necessarily the same as
'good'. I dare say that there are far moreVelvet
Elviifloating around this world
than works ofRembrandt, but that hardly makes them
equivalent!
I may have mentioned that I
spent a period of time in the early 80s as a commercial
photographer. Honestly, I didn't make it all that far; though a
good technician, I wasn't creative enough on demand to sustain a
career. I did learn a lot, though, and I took some of those lessons
and put them to good use in other areas of my life.
One of those lessons - and one of the most important - came in the
form of an article written by Ben Helprin. I have a copy of this
hanging above my workbench, where it serves to inspire me. I don't
know that I'm yet at the "master" stage of revolversmithing, but I
work every day to get a little closer to that ideal.
While obviously photography-centric, this is a profound article for
which you will no doubt find applications in your own life.
Enjoy!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Expert or Master - What's the Difference?
by Ben Helprin
At the top of every craft, there are masters and experts. The
difference between the two was defined by Will Connall (master
photographer, photography teacher, and former head of photography
at the Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, California) this
way:
"Let me", he said, "use the exacting art of platemaking as an
example." (Platemakers are the skilled craftsmen who produce
printing plates for books and magazines.) "If you ask an expert how
he produces the negative for a fine plate, he'll answer: "that's
easy. First I choose the correct size glass plate for the negative
I want. Then, I compute the surface area of the plate and, holding
it absolutely level, I pour exactly one ounce of emulsion for every
40 square inches of surface precisely onto the center of the plate.
Then I rock the glass side-to-side and front-to-back, exactly the
same amount each way, to spread the emulsion evenly. When the plate
is dry, I load it into the copy camera, adjust my lights so that
the original art work is absolutely evenly illuminated and, with
the level of illumination that I use, expose the plate for 20
seconds. I develop the plate for precisely five minutes, process it
normally, the end up with a perfect negative for
reproduction.
"Now," said Connall, "let's ask a master the same question. He'd
reply: Oh, that's easy. First I choose the correct size glass for
the negative. Then, I compute the surface area of the glass and,
holding it exactly level, I pour one ounce of emulsion for every 40
square inches of surface exactly onto the center of the plate.
Well, no, that's really not true. Sometimes I use more than an
ounce of emulsion per square inch. Sometimes less. It depends on
the original copy. And sometimes I don't pour the emulsion exactly
on center. I'll swirl it across to get a different spread. That
also depends on the copy. Anyway, after I pour the emulsion, I rock
the plate side-to-side and front-to-back, exactly the same each
way, to spread the emulsion evenly. But sometimes, of course, I
don't want the emulsion spread evenly. Again, it depends on the
copy. I might want to rock the plate more to one side to get the
emulsion heavier there, or rock it more to the front...anyway, I
rock it, dry it, load it in the camera, and light the copy exactly
evenly - unless of course I want to slightly shade a corner to
knock it down, or highlight a portion of the copy to lighten it up.
I'm not sure exactly how I'll light it until I do it. But after
it's lit, I give it a 20-second exposure. Well, not always 20
seconds...."
And so it goes. Each step of the master's procedure depends, not on
a set series of exacting rules, but on the interrelationship of the
medium, the copy, and the desired final product.
What does this have to do with photography? Well to begin with, it
doesn't mean that you can forget technique or be sloppy in your
execution of it. As Will Connall noted, every master had first to
be an expert. Without that initial perfection of technique, they
could never advance to the master's stage.
Will's apocryphal examples were, however, meant to point out that
technique is by no means the be-all and end-all of photography.
Technique is the base from which you build. But the product itself,
the photograph, must go beyond set rules of technique or
composition, or anything else that says "this, and only this, is
the correct way of producing a photograph."
Look at the work of master photographer Ansel Adams and compare it
to the thousands of technical experts who attempt to imitate him.
The large majority of Adams' imitators do not understand expressive
content, they understand only technique. The do not trust their
inner feelings, the trust only a rigorous set of technical
rules.
A creative photograph is a very unique personal statement, and the
technical aspects of that statement must depend on what you, as an
artist, want to say. Thus, the perfect exposure isn't always one
the reproduces the tonalities of a scene in exactly the same manner
they originally appeared, but one that reproduces them in exactly
the manner you want them to appear. Nor is the perfect print the
one that always exactly matches the contrast of the paper to the
density range of the negative, but the one that exactly matches
paper and film to the contrast as seen by your inner eye. As Paul
Klee said, "the purpose of art is not to reflect the visible, but
to make visible."
So, look at your recent photographs. Are they technically perfect?
If not, you still have a lot of work to do to reach the "Expert"
stage. On the other hand, if your work is technically perfect and
perfectly boring, if it is indistinguishable from everyone else's
technically perfect work, then you have a lot of even harder work
to reach the Master's stage.
Xavier Thoughts chronicles the storyof an elderly
gentleman who, using his gun, confronted a burglar in his home. The
outcome was that the perp got sent to jail. Great, right? Well,
maybe not. This may get ugly when the inevitable civil suit is
filed.
You see, the perp was injured because the homeowner fired an
unaimed "warning shot" which fragmented and struck the intruder. As
if that wasn't bad enough in these litigious times, the gentleman
couldn't help running his mouth on television, which didn't do any
good in terms of his legal defense.
I'll leave the analysis to Xavier, who does a much better job than
your humble correspondent. I will, however, leave you with this
thought: this is exactly why I strongly encourage anyone who even
contemplates keeping a firearm for self-defense to takeJudicious Use of
Deadly Forcefrom Massad Ayoob at the
Lethal Force Institute. Had this fellow done so, he wouldn't have
left himself open for what will probably be a whale of a civil
lawsuit.
I admit up front that I'm
not a professional firearms/tactics instructor. I do some assistant
teaching now and again, but I'm no Clint Smith. However, I have
been a student, I have been involved in the teaching side of
things, and I am a general all-around busybody. As it happens,
those are better qualifications than some "instructors" I've
met!
Here's my two cents worth: avoid "checklist" shooting classes. What
do I mean by "checklist" classes? Those where the instructor
provides a long list of the things that you will (ostensibly) learn
in his/her class, implicitly (or explicitly) inviting you to
compare how many things he teaches versus how many things another
instructor does. It's a variation of the "mine is bigger than
yours" game played by adolescents of all ages.
This topic came to mind recently when I read a review of a
"tactical carbine" class someone had taken. The student - gushing
with praise over how great the class was - had a long list of
things that the class had "learned" over two whole days. My
assistant teaching experience happens to be in that type of rifle
class, and I know for a fact that there is no way to adequately
cover even half of his long list in a single two day class. Note
the term "adequately."
Just getting proper explanations (lecture portions) of the
techniques he listed would take a couple of days, let alone a
single repetition of each technique by each student. (A single
repetition, you understand, doesn't even begin to develop a skill.)
In this case, the sheer quantity of techniques presented would have
necessitated a "demonstration only" type of curriculum for many of
the techniques. Heck, just doing a proper sight-in procedure with a
dozen (or more) students will take a good portion of a day, and
sight-in was one of the things he listed!
Beyond that, even those things that were actually treated to live
fire would not have allowed time for any feedback from the
"instructor." Without feedback, without critique, how do you know
how you've done - and how to increase your skill? Isn't that why we
train in the first place?
The student who runs his finger down a checklist (see why I use the
term?) of things he "learned" in a class will come away impressed -
but no more capable. There is a difference between developing a
skill (which is what you should be doing in a shooting class) and
simply being exposed to the topic (which is undoubtedly the
experience of this fellow.) Sadly there are some, both teachers and
students, who don't know the difference.
It's that old quality vs. quantity equation all over again. In the
immediate area we have a couple of shooting schools; one is of the
checklist variety, while the other is more concerned about what
their students actually retain. The former trades on quantity,
while the latter is concerned with quality. Guess which one I
recommend when locals ask me where to train?
When you're shopping for schooling, what you really want to know is
if the teacher covers his/her material thoroughly, and is concerned
that the students actually make progress - not how many items are
on the checklist. It make take a little more effort to find such a
school, but your effort will be rewarded.
Unless, of course, you just want to compare your checklist against
your buddy's. In that case, there are lots of places that can take
your money, and they're a lot easier to find!
Lately I've been hearing from
people who've decided against attending training courses because of
the cost of ammunition. If I may, I think that this is a
shortsighted attitude!
Yes, ammo prices are the highest they've ever been. Yes, the number
of rounds necessary to complete a decent shooting class is a
significantly higher expense than it used to be. It's still worth
it, and it's a bargain that you should take advantage of.
If you plan to carry a handgun, or if you keep a shotgun for home
defense, training - proper training - may make the difference
between a successful outcome and a tragedy. Isn't that worth the
few extra dollars that the necessary ammunition is going to cost? I
sure think it is!
By the time you add up travel, lodging, registration fees, meals,
and incidentals, that little extra the ammo costs really isn't a
big deal. Spend the money - it's important to you, and to your
loved ones, that you not miss that class!
Stacking is defined as an increase
in trigger pull weight toward the end of the trigger's rearward
travel. Some people like it, some don't, and different guns have
varying amounts of it. What causes it?
Some people come up with odd explanations. I recently got an email
asking about stacking; the writer had read "on the internet" that
stacking was caused by the type of spring - coil or leaf - used in
the action. It's a simplistic answer, and it's not terribly
accurate.
An "L" frame S&W uses a leaf spring, and has little to no
stacking; a Colt uses a leaf spring, and has lots of stack. A Dan
Wesson uses a coil spring and it's trigger stacks horribly, where a
Ruger GP-100 uses a coil spring and stacks very little.
The cause of stacking isn't the spring itself; the biggest
determinant is the geometry of the double-action mechanism. In
general, guns using a design where the hammer strut does double
duty as the double action sear (Colt and Dan Wesson) will display
lots of stacking, while those that use a separate strut and sear
arrangement (S&W, Ruger) will display less.
(Some nomenclature: a sear is any pair of surfaces from which the
hammer is released; a strut is the pivoting piece on the hammer,
which the trigger pushes on in order to start the hammer moving
backward. In some guns, the trigger pushes on the strut, and at
some point the sears come into contact and the strut leaves contact
with the trigger; after some additional hammer movement, the sears
slip out of engagement and allow the hammer to fall. The other
design is where the strut actually pushes the hammer all the way
back, at which point it slips off of the trigger and releases the
hammer.)
This isn't a guarantee, though, because there are still a number of
angles between surfaces and pivots that can introduce stacking into
the mechanism. It is possible to design either system to have the
characteristics of the other, though in practice it doesn't happen
all that often.
That's how it all stacks up! (Sorry, couldn't resist the
pun.) -=[ Grant
]=-
Much as it pains me to admit this,
my eyesight is degrading with distressing rapidity. No, it's
nothing out of the ordinary, nor is it anything serious - it's just
that I'm getting older!
I'm close enough to the big "five-oh" to count the years left on
one hand (with fingers left over), and the closer it gets the
further out I need to hold the restaurant menu. Oh, yes, my
prescription is current - but after wearing bifocals for the better
part of the last decade, I'm now told I need trifocals. The
indignity!
Sound familiar? It should, given the number of questions I field
about sight options. Consistently, the two most common queries
concern fiber optic front sights, and the "Big Dot" from XS Sight
Systems (or whatever they're calling themselves this week.)
I have some personal experience with the fiber optic inserts, and
frankly I'm not terribly impressed. Aside from their fragility (the
encased ones are somewhat better in that regard), they don't really
help the sight visibility all that much. Yes, their neon glow does
attract the eye, but if your eyesight is like mine the resulting
sight picture isn't all that crisp. The bright fiber tends to
"bloom" - that is, it looks larger than it really is and develops a
fuzzy corona. This makes precise shot alignment more difficult;
it's very much like when someone turns on the bedroom lights in the
middle of the night, and your eyes struggle to adjust to the
situation - everything seems to be "flared." Squinting helps, but
wasn't that what you were trying to avoid in the first place?
The "Big Dot" sights are another matter. The Big Dot is just what
its name says: a very large, round front sight. The idea is to make
the sight so big that even Mr. Magoo couldn't miss it. While I've
never owned a set personally, I've test fired guns that carried
them, and I've found the sights are so large that they just can't
be shot all that accurately. Their sight picture (particularly with
the companion "express" v-notch rear sights) is just too coarse for
good shot placement.
I'm not alone in my opinion of the Big Dot; I've installed several
of them on client's guns, and they have all elected to switch back
to the original sights. If that isn't enough of a non-endorsement,
I've watched one of the best handgun shooters I know - a police
officer who has been a state IPSC and PPC champ - struggle to keep
in the A-zone at 15 yards with the things, when at that distance he
usually shoots single, ragged holes. Most people who aren't as good
as he is do far worse. As you might guess, he doesn't like them
either.
What works for those of us who are pushing 50 (or dragging it, as
the case may be)? Well, for quite some time I've been told to
simply use a wide rear sight notch - one big enough to have roughly
one-third to one-half a sight-width of light on either side of the
front sight. (I must admit that a very good friend has been
preaching the widened rear sight for the past several years.
Frankly, though he is one of the best instructors I've ever met and
a phenomenal shot, I thought he was nuts. As the front sight got
harder and harder to see, however, I grudgingly made room for the
idea that he might be right.)
Recently one of my clients asked that I widen the rear notch on his
sight to give "lots of light on either side." I did so, making the
space on each side of the front sight appear to be roughly 1/3 of
blade width. Surprisingly, it was definitely easier to shoot the
resulting gun. It focused sharper and much cleaner, and the sights
aligned a lot faster. It was a definite increase in shootability
compared to my own guns.
Of course, now I need to find time to do the same to all of my
sights.... -=[ Grant
]=-
Spent part of last Tuesday at the
range, schmoozing with A Famous Gun Writer Who Wishes To Remain
Anonymous (hereafter referred to as "AFGWWWTRA".) We tested a few
guns, talked about revolvers - the kinds of things you'd expect a
gunsmith and a gun writer to do on a range.
AFGWWWTRA happened to have a Ruger Alaskan model in .454 Casull
that was being evaluated. Since I hadn't yet gotten the chance to
shoot one, I really wanted to see what it was like with full-house
loads. I elected to shoot a couple of cylinders worth while
AFGWWWTRA took pictures of the whole debacle. (AFGWWWTRA, it turns
out, is easily amused by masochistic idiots. I'm sure it was meant
as a compliment.)
The first cylinder was fired, sedately, in single action from the
25-yard bench. At that point I was thinking "heck, that wasn't bad.
I wonder what it'd be like in rapid fire?" The second cylinder
full, standing from about 7 yards, was fired as quickly as I could
get the gun back on target between shots.
Just to retain my machismo cred, here I am in the midst of that
sequence, the mighty .454 loads in full fireball-producing
glory: Courtesy
ofAFGWWWTRA
Note the flash from the round just fired, and yet the gun is back
on target and the hammer is about to drop again. Yes, I am
justthat
damn good!(I must be - I tell myself so all
the time!) -=[ Grant
]=-
Every reloader has his or her
favorite powders. When I first started reloading handgun
cartridges, I used what everyone around me used - which I found
weren't always the best choices for my needs. After experimenting
with lots of powders, I settled on a few favorites.
As a general rule I prefer flaked powders over ball (spherical)
powders. I've found that they meter more consistently in a wide
variety of measures, and they seem to burn a bit cleaner than their
ball equivalents - this may have something to do with the graphite
coating all ball powders appear to use.
For all-around use in a wide variety of pistol cartridges I really
like Hodgdon Universal Clays. It is extremely clean (the cleanest
I've yet used) and is useful in a large number of calibers. My only
complaint is that is isn't suitable for light loads in spacious
cases, because it often fails to burn fully. This results in lots
of unburned powder flakes that always seem to end up under the
extractor. I'd like to find an equivalent powder that is more
suitable for light loads, but haven't found it yet.
For magnum cartridges, I like Alliant Blue Dot. It is very
consistent, burns cleanly, and gives superb velocities. I've used
it in the .357 Magnum, the .44 Magnum, the fire-breathing .445
SuperMag, and the obscure .451 Detonics Magnum. In each case it
performed superbly. So pleased am I with Blue Dot that one of these
days I plan to try some of the other "Dot" powders.
Though I've tried lots of others, these are the ones I keep coming
back to. There's nothing like "old friends" that you can count
on!
In last Monday's post I mentioned
that the Ruger Mini-14 demands factory magazines to work reliably.
That statement may have given a bit of a wrong impression.
The point I was trying to make, and apparently didn't, is that the
only reliable Minis I have seen were using factory magazines. I
have actually encountered many examples that wouldn't run, and
changing to factory mags made them work properly. All is not
perfect in Ruger-land, though - in my experience, there is still a
large percentage of Mini-14s that are not reliable, even with
factory magazines.
The other side of the coin is that I have never seen a reliable
Mini using aftermarket mags. Ever. Aftermarket Mini-14
magazines consistently cause Minis - every one I've ever seen - to
choke.
Bottom line: factory mags alone will not ensure that any given Mini
will run well. However, using non-Ruger magazines is a virtual
guarantee that you will have trouble making the thing work
properly. (I won't even get into their renowned lack of accuracy,
but that isn't the fault of the magazines!)
I hope this clarifies things a bit.
(Oh, by the way - the cheapest I've been able to find Ruger factory
20-round mags is $55.00. That's three times the cost of good
quality AR-15 mags. Wow!) -=[ Grant
]=-
This is a term used by tool & die makers to indicate
unobtainable levels of (perceived) precision. Why do I bring this
up?
Last week, I was advising a reader on selecting pin gages for use
in measuring chamber throats. The discussion revolved around which
gages to buy, and whether or not he needed both plus- and
minus-tolerance gages (no, in case you're wondering.) He was
concerned about their variance of .0002" (that's 2/10,000th of an
inch, or 1/20th of the thickness of an average human hair. In
machinist parlance, that would be "2 tenths.") As I explained to
him, in practice it's not really possible to measure to that
level.
As I thought about my answers to his questions, I flashed back to a
conversation related to the posts I've made about measuring tools.
A fellow who identified himself as a gunsmith contacted me to argue
about my advocacy of quality measuring tools. "I don't need any of
them overpriced tools - I use [insert name of well known
retailer of low end Chinese tools here], and I can measure down to a
ten-thousandth!" I asked him if what he was measuring was under the
same environmental conditions as the calibration on his micrometer,
and he replied "my mic reads to a tenth - it don't need to be
calibrated!"
Sigh.
When a measuring instrument is calibrated - that is, checked
against known standards and certified as to accuracy - the
environmental conditions of that calibration are recorded. The
calibration is really only valid for those same conditions; if the
temperature goes up or down, that accuracy is not guaranteed.
How much different does a change in temperature make? I did a
little experiment. I got out my Grade 2 Brown & Sharpe gage
blocks, and picked out the .125" block. (The tolerance for Grade 2
blocks is +/- .000002", or two-milliionths of an inch.) On the
calibration certificate, it gives you the deviation from the
nominal dimension in millionths of an inch for each block. In the
case of my .125" block, it has no variance - in other words, it is
guaranteed to measure .125000" at 68 degrees F. Coincidentally,
that is the temperature that my shop generally maintains outside of
the coldest winter and warmest summer months.
After checking the temperature, I pulled out my best Etalon (Swiss)
micrometer and the .125 block. I handled the mic with gloves while
I secured it in its stand; the block was handled with insulated
tweezers (yes, there are such things.) I measured the block under
these conditions, and not surprisingly it measured .1250" on the
nose.
I took the block out of the micrometer, and held the non-measuring
surfaces between by thumb and forefinger for about a minute, then
remeasured. Guess what? Just that small amount of heat had caused
the gage to grow to a bit more than .1251" (a typical mic only
measures to a ten-thousandth, and this fell just between the .1251"
and .1252" marks.) Had I held on to it longer, it would have grown
a bit more. Had I held the mic in my hand while measuring, it too
would have been "off."
That's why they're called "bullshit tenths" - because, without
knowing exactly the temperature of both the micrometer and work,
and at what temperature the micrometer was last calibrated, you
really don't know to the ten-thousandth of an inch how big that
part really is. In other words, until you've met all of the above,
you can't measure to a ten-thousandth of an inch, no matter how
optimistic you are!
Since pin gages are usually held in the hand, as is the piece to be
measured, it would not be possible to get closer than several
ten-thousandths. Factor in the other environmental variables, it's
clear that a) the gages are more accurate than they need to be for
the job asked of them; b) you can't measure to the limit of the
gages, so you don't need both the plus and minus coverage; and c)
worrying about their allowed +/- .0002" isn't at all productive.
Save your stomach lining for more important things.
At first, I wasn't going to
comment on the sad crime perpetrated on the campus of Virginia Tech
this week. I figured that everyone, everywhere, was going to do so
(with varying degrees of erudition and insight.) I decided there
wasn't anything I could add. Until...
Listening to the news on the radio, I heard an interview with two
students who said that they were in "the room where he was
shooting." According to these people, students and faculty were
hiding under and behind anything in the room that they felt would
provide them some protection, or flat on the floor in the absence
of same.
It's what they said next that prompted me to comment: as the gunman
shot, he naturally ran out of ammunition, and had to stop to refill
his magazines. After taking the time to refill then reload his
weapon, he continued his unfettered spree.
He was out of ammunition, and had stopped to reload - why didn't
someone,anyone,
in the room take that golden opportunity to tackle the murderer? At
that point the criminal couldn't shoot anyone, and the risk even to
the person who would choose that course of action would have been
relatively minor compared to letting him get his firearm back up
and running.
The answer is as obvious as it is sad: our society has fully
inculcated the victimhood and helplessness mentalities into the
last several generations of people. They didn't do anything because
they have been taught their entire lives to rely on someone -
anyone - else for their safety and well being.
This is what the nanny state has given us. This is what our
Founding Fathers, I think, understood when they listed the natural
right to keep and bear arms in their Constitution: yes, it's about
the ability to resist tyrannical governments. More importantly,
though, is thechoiceinherent in the
right.
You see, it's not the exercise of the right in and of itself that
matters; it's the existence of thechoiceto exercise the right
that is so very important. Even if one chooses not to exercise the
right, in making the choice one has experienced the
self-actualization that leads to great inner strength and a
heightened sense of self-worth. The very personal decision - no
matter what the decision itself is - is what makes for citizens who
are self reliant, who can think for themselves, and cannot be
corralled like sheep.
When the "transaction cost" of the individual choice is raised -
when the ability to decide for oneself is restricted or controlled
in any manner - the choice is made not by the individual, but by
someone else. The benefits of making the decision are denied the
individual, and he/she learns (bit by bit) how to be a subject
rather than a sovereign individual. Given long enough, an entire
people is conditioned to be subordinate themselves to authority
figures; when the "badge" of "authority" is the firearm, the people
will prostrate themselves to anyone who wields one. Even a crazed
killer.
If you're here, it's probably
because you like (or at least appreciate) our friend the revolver.
My feelings, of course, are well known: I believe the revolver to
be the single greatest firearm that one could ever hope to own. I
believe that people who shoot revolvers demonstrate themselves to
be of above average intelligence, more refined sensibilities, and
generally better looking than those who do not. (I exaggerate, of
course. Except in my own case, where these things are certainly
true. I tell my wife so every day.)
However, even in my zeal I cannot recommend the revolver to every
single person; it is not the best choice for everyone or every
circumstance. I've said this before, and I'll probably being saying
it again and again as time goes on.
I particularly cringe whenever I see some fellow buying (or hear
someone recommending) that the revolver is always the "best choice"
for a woman, hinting that women are incapable of operating a
semiauto properly. Sometimes the revolver is the best choice for a
female, just as it sometimes is for a male - though not always, and
not even most of the time!
Not being a woman, I've been at a loss to explain my discomfort in
any terms other than "that seems stupid to me." Luckily, over at
the View From the Porch,Tam does a good (and concise) jobof explaining just
why.
In response toMonday's blog
postabout
.22 accuracy, a couple of readers asked about the loads that had
proven to be accurate in the Dan Wesson .22LR Model 15-2.
Before I answer, you need to keep in mind that your individual DW
may not like the same ammunition mine does. With that
understanding, my DW likes the Remington Match Target (subsonic,
LRN bullet) and the Remington "Golden Bullet" bulk pack. Of the 23
different rounds I tested in the gun, these two came out on top in
their respective categories (target ammunition and hunting
ammunition.)
This is quite surprising to me, as Remington rimfire ammo is not
generally held in high regard by experienced rimfire shooters. It
is often criticized for lack of accuracy and consistency, but in
this gun those two loads work extremely well. The "Golden Bullet"
also exhibits excellent terminal effects on small game (ground
squirrels) as well as being accurate.
Oddly, the Federal Gold Medal Match - a terrific load that shoots
well in just about everything - doesn't do well in this gun. Why?
Who knows? That's the joy and mystery of the rimfire
addiction!
I've been shooting a lot of .22LR
on a recreational basis lately, and am reminded how fickle this
round can be.
Many people seem to be unaware that you can't put just any old .22
round into a gun - be it rifle, pistol, or revolver - and expect it
to function correctly, let alone hit where it is aimed!
It is not unusual to find that any given .22 firearm will not
function with certain ammunition. I've seen guns that didn't have
enough firing pin energy to detonate certain brands of ammunition;
autoloaders that wouldn't load and eject certain bullet shapes or
velocities; and guns that would shoot tight groups with some ammo
but shotgun-like patterns with everything else.
This would all be a lot easier if it were predictable by gun brand
and/or model - sadly, it just isn't. You can take two identical
guns and one will shoot incredibly accurately with a specific
round, while the other gun throws them every which way; I've seen
it happen with a pair of Ruger 10/22 rifles.
Some guns are more picky than others regarding their ammunition
preferences. The Dan Wesson Model 15-2 in .357 is renowned for its
accuracy, but the same gun in .22 is regarded as very inaccurate. I
suspect that this reputation has more to do with ammunition that
with any fault of the gun. I have one, and had to test many
different .22 rounds before I found a couple that it would shoot
well. The difference wasn't minor, either! With most ammunition it
will shoot 3- to 4-inch groups at 25 yards; with its preferred
ammunition, it will quite literally put a cylinder full into one
ragged hole at the same distance. There seems to be no middle
ground with this gun!
Bullet velocity also plays a role. Generally, it is assumed that
the higher velocity rounds don't shoot as well as their slower
brethren - but not always! My personal Marlin 39A, for instance,
has a surprising preference for the hyper-velocity Quik-Shok round,
which is widely considered to be a very inaccurate load.
The moral of the story is that you have to test - and sometimes
test again, and keep testing - until you find the round(s) that
shoot and function well in your individual guns. When you find
that/those loads, buy a case (or two or
three...!)
Those who have highly polished
guns - Royal Blue, nickel plate, or bright stainless - often ask
about the best way to keep these fine finishes looking good.
My recommendation: Selvyt. It's not a paste or a wax, it's a cloth
- a pure cotton, non-impregnated cloth that jewelers have been
using for many decades to give the finishing touches to highly
polished gold, silver, and platinum.
The Selvyt cloth is simply a specially woven cotton that has a
unique nap. That's it, there is nothing more! The process used to
make the Selvyt results in what can only be compared to a cross
between fine velvet and chamois. The result is hundreds of
thousands of miniature "brushes" on the surface that gently polish
without harming the finish in any manner whatsoever.
Selvyt's special cloth also suspends any dust or microscopic grit
inside the nap, so that it doesn't contact the surface being
polished. This is in stark contrast to chamois, which seems prone
to scratching if someone even mentions the word "dust" in the
vicinity in which it is being used! (I'm exaggerating, of
course.)
The Selvyt is especially good for the Colt "Ultimate Stainless"
finish, which is notoriously soft. The Selvyt brings back the high
shine without harming the surface of the steel; it's really
remarkable.
When the Selvyt gets dirty - and it will - just wash like any other
cotton fabric. It will come out of the dryer like new, ready for
more use! I've had one of mine for more than a decade, washed
several times, and its performance is unchanged.
So good is the Selvyt that Purdy - the makers of hyper-expensive
shotguns - sells them under their own name for polishing their fine
pieces. If that isn't an endorsement, I don't know what is!
You can find it at many jewelers, any jewelry supply house, many
silversmiths, and (of course) online. Be careful - you want the
genuine Selvyt cloth, made in England (there are pretenders out
there.) Selvyt also makes an impregnated cloth for tarnish
protection on silver; you do not want that model! Ask for the
plain, un-impregnated, original Selvyt cloth.
The Selvyt comes in several sizes, from 5x5" on up. I like the
14x14" size, which will probably set you back around $10 or $12
these days (I haven't had to buy one in years, so no hate mail if
I'm wrong!) It may seem like a lot for a small piece of cloth, but
it's worth every penny.
This is an expansion on an email I
replied to recently. A loyal reader noted that my name had been
brought up on one of the forums (sadly, he couldn't remember which
one) regardingmy
blog article on measuring chamber throats.
Apparently, the gist of the discussion was that the forum's
"expert" (every forum has one) opined that I was full of it for
suggesting that throats couldn't be measured accurately with a
caliper. What's more, someone expressed the thought that a caliper
would show an out-of-round condition, whereas a pin gage wouldn't,
and therefore anyone who didn't use a caliper didn't know what
he/she was doing.
Sheesh! Let's start from the top.
A caliper - whether vernier, dial, or digital - is most assuredly
not a precision measurement tool. Feel free to ask any tool &
die maker the question: "how accurate is a caliper?" I have yet to
meet one who would trust a caliper for anything less than
2/1,000ths of an inch (.002") For reference, this is the difference
between measuring, say, .357" and .359". On a good day (meaning a
very experienced operator) with good equipment (meaning not a
Harbor Freight special) one might be able to do a bit better, but
most people aren't all that experienced, and most do not possess
the top-quality equipment necessary.
This is actually extremely easy to test: take a caliper to a local
tool & die shop, and ask the owner if he'll let you measure his
certified, calibrated toolroom gage blocks. If he lets you (he
probably won't), you'll probably find that getting to within .002"
with any consistency is not possible. I have a set of said blocks,
and I can't do much better - even though I'm experienced, and have
top-end Swiss Etalon calipers with which to work!
There's a reason watchmakers measure parts that must be fitted to
incredibly close tolerances with micrometers, and not calipers. The
same goes for precision machinists. Do I need to keep flogging this
deceased equine?
(I haven't even touched on the need to hold the calipers perfectly
perpendicular to the axis of the bore, and to get the jaws as close
to centered on the inside surface as possible. It's darned
difficult to do under the absolute best toolroom conditions, let
alone at a kitchen table! Errors multiply under less-than-ideal
conditions.)
Let's tackle the second criticism: that one can't measure an
out-of-round condition with a pin gage, therefore the best way to
do it is with a caliper. By now, the answer should be obvious: if a
hole is, say, .002" out of round, and the measuring system can't
get within that range to begin with, it follows that one can't
measure the condition because it's within the amount of "slop"
already present!
In other words, if a caliper indicates that the hole isn't round,
we can't trust it because we don't know if what we're seeing is
real or simply the result of the errors inherent in the device.
Conversely, the absence of a round error doesn't mean that the
throat is round - because it may be within the normal error of the
caliper being used! (This is why one does not use imprecise
instruments when one expects a precise result.)
The exception is if the condition is sufficiently severe that it
exceeds the error of the tool - but if it's that far out, it can be
easily spotted with the pin gage anyhow. While we can'tmeasurean out-of-round
condition with a pin gage, we can certainlyidentifythat an out-of-round
condition exists, and elect to measure it with more accurate
means.
Whew!
Now I'd like to expand on the recommendation in my earlier article.
The reason I suggested using calibrated pin gages for measurement
is because they're cheap (a set to cover, say, the range of a .357
cylinder costs less than $20), readily available, and last forever.
There are other tools that can be used, but all are much more
expensive and require occasional testing & recalibration, as
well as a certain amount of technique.
The best choice is a "tri-mic", made by various companies, which
measures holes at 3 points spaced 120 degrees apart. This is
extremely accurate - the most accurate way to measure a hole - but
that accuracy comes with a price tag of several hundred dollars for
the least expensive example. That's why I didn't recommend them,
though in hindsight I should have at least acknowledged that they
exist.
Bottom line: there is no substitute for knowledge, experience, and
the proper quality tools when one is doing precision work.
I hope this puts the matter to rest - though I somehow doubt
it!
This article in the Tennessean newspaperexplores the
"phenomenon" of women who choose to carry a gun for their own
protection. It's an interesting read, and when I saw it I was
reminded of my own wife's journey to self-empowerment (in the
ballistic sense.)
I'm of the belief that women should always be proactive with
regards to their own safety. Sadly, our current society has
inculcated a fear of weapons into the collective conscious of the
female half of the population. It takes real fortitude for a lady
to swim against that tide and arm herself, and I salute those who
choose to do so.
Drawing from my own wife's experience I've formed some very
specific opinions on the topic of introducing women to shooting.
Guys, if there is a woman in your life who has decided to travel
down the road of self protection, I offer youGrant's Rules For
Helping Ladies Who Want To Shoot.
1) Don't try to teach her yourself. Aside from passing on bad
habits that you have (I don't care if you did qualify as "expert"
when you were in the Army), it's difficult to impart what you do
right no matter how sincere your desire to help.
Women learn differently than men; precious few men understand this,
and even fewer understand how to teach to it. It's not uncommon for
women to become extremely frustrated under these conditions, and
give up entirely. It may not happen until the lessons are over -
you may never know of the damage you've done. Let someone else -
someone who is experienced teaching women - do this for you. It
doesn't mean you're any less of a man, and it just might save you
some grief.
2) Rule #1 is increased by a factor of 10 if she is your GF or
wife! Ignore this at your peril!I am not
kidding!
3) If possible, get her to a women's only class that is actually
taught by a female instructor. (If you're on the west coast, I
highly recommend that you take advantage of the women's only
classes taught byGila
Hayes at the Firearms Academy of Seattle. She's tops. Seriously.)
4) Don't pick her gun for her. So many times a woman, bowing to the
desires of the man who proffers her shooting advice (solicited or
otherwise), ends up with a lightweight titanium or scandium
revolver that is incredibly ill-suited for her physical makeup. The
recoil is brutal (hey, even I don't like shooting them), and their
stock triggers can be difficult for petite forefingers to actuate.
Yes, you could send it to me and have that problem eased, but let
her decide if it is right for her!
(Listen, if you've read my blog for any length of time you know
that I'm a rabid proponent of the revolver for personal protection.
As far as I'm concerned, there isn't a problem extant that a good
revolver can't solve. Even so, I acknowledge an autoloader is often
the better choice for a woman.) The very best thing you can do is
curb your own opinions and take her to a gun range that rents guns,
where she can pick her own way through the models. If she picks an
autoloader, it won't hurt my feelings. (Not for long, anyhow.) The
important thing is that it be her own choice.
Following these simple rules will result in an excited new shooter
and harmony at home (where appropriate.) -=[ Grant
]=-
John Linebaugh is a custom
revolver maker who specializes in caliber conversions on Ruger
single actions. Not just any conversions, mind you - he is the
originator of the fire-breathing .475 Linebaugh and .500 Linebaugh
cartridges.
John first became famous for his modified revolvers that would
should heavy .45 Colt loads (250 grain bullets at 1,700 fps.) His
work with those heavy loads lead him to develop the .475 Linebaugh
and the mighty .500 Linebaugh: 435 grains traveling at 1,300
fps!
Now I just know that some wag is reading this and saying "So? The
.500 S&W shoots those slugs faster!" You bet it does, Pilgrim -
at insanely high chamber pressures, in guns that are big enough to
qualify as crew-served weapons. The Linebaugh cartridges do this at
moderate pressures, and in guns based on nice, relatively
lightweight Ruger Bisley frames.
John has a new website that, sadly, isn't linked to his old site
and doesn't yet show up in the search engines. Here it is - be sure
to bookmark it:
http://www.customsixguns.com/ Be sure to
check out the video of shooting one of his creations - that's what
I call recoil!
So, you're in the market for a
S&W 625, and you're torn between the "standard" 625 and the
Jerry Miculek edition 625. Which to choose?
Well, you have to decide whether the "niceties" - such as the
Miculek grips, interchangeable front sights, and the serrated
trigger - are worth the extra money. There are some internal
differences, though, which you may want to consider.
The Miculek edition is a little unusual, in that it uses a mix of
MIM (metal injection molding) and forged parts. As you may know,
S&W has been using MIM technology for several years now, and
overall it's been a successful transition. However, in order to get
the serrated trigger that Jerry specifies, they decided that to use
one of their "old fashioned" forged parts.
There are a couple of problems with this. First, the interface of
the forged trigger and MIM cylinder stop makes the trigger feel a
bit rough at the very beginning of the trigger stroke - and it's
difficult to get rid of this feeling. Second, the MIM hammer is
given a flash chrome treatment to match the chromed finish of the
trigger. Unfortunately, chrome applied to an MIM part doesn't seem
to stick as well as it does to a forged part, and I've seen several
where the chrome started flaking from the sear surfaces! As you
might imagine, this makes the action quality degrade quickly, and
the problem can only be fixed by replacing the hammer assembly with
a non-chromed version, as comes on the "plain" 625.
Of the 625JM models I've worked on, all of them came in with a
request to remove the trigger face serrations - one of the major
features that Jerry insists on! It seems that serrated triggers, as
much as he likes them, do not fit well with everyone.
Once the hammer has been replaced and the trigger face smoothed,
you're left with the JM grips and an interchangeable front sight -
and the grips are widely available as an accessory. I guess the
whole thing boils down to this: how important are those
interchangeable front sights?
To a person, every one of the JM model owners I've talked with said
that if they knew ahead of time that they were going to put in the
money for custom work anyhow, they'd have bought the "plain" 625
and saved themselves a few dollars. I agree!
A common complaint about the
old-style Colt Detective Special is the unshrouded ejector rod.
Many people believe that the exposed ejector rod is a liability;
should it get bent during a struggle, the theory goes, it will tie
up the gun and make it inoperable.
Not quite.
Many folks have experienced this problem with a Smith & Wesson.
Since their ejector rods are locked at the front and rotate about
the front latch pin, any small amount of runout (deviation from
true) will impose an inordinate amount of friction to the system.
This usually manifests itself as an action that locks up, being
completely useless in double action (and often in single action as
well.)
The unshrouded Colts, however, are a different matter. Since the
ejector rod doesn't have any function other than the ejection of
spent casings, even a large amount of runout has no effect on the
action. In fact, you would have to bend the ejector rod to the
point that it actually hits the underside of the barrel before you
would encounter a problem! Because of the plasticity of steel,
about the only way you could do that would be on purpose, with the
cylinder open - I honestly cannot conceive of any accidental way to
get it into such a sorry state.
I would be remiss if I didn't address the effect of small bends on
the ejection process; a relatively modest bend in a Colt ejector
rod can cause the ejector to stick in the cylinder, so that the
ratchet (ejector star) is stuck in the extended position. This
isn't as much of a problem as you might think - just shove the
ratchet back into the cylinder and the gun is usually ready to be
reloaded.
Every gun has strong and weak points in its design, but in the case
of the unshrouded Colts the exposed ejector isn't one of
them!
I hear the advice all the time:
"buy a stainless gun, because they won't rust." This kind of
comment is what prompted General Norman Schwarzkopf to say "bovine
scatology!"
Yes, stainless will in fact rust under the right conditions. What
are those conditions? Generally, if you get moisture trapped in a
place where it doesn't evaporate normally (say, under a grip panel
or inside the action), you have a situation that is ideal for
corrosion. The situation is worse in very corrosive (salt water,
perspiration) or very humid conditions.
That's not the only thing; even if the frame of your gun is
stainless, there will be some parts in the action that aren't, or
are made of a much less resistant stainless. It's not unusual to
find springs, some screws, cylinder parts, and more that are made
of plain carbon steel. These are just as susceptible to rust as
they would be in a blued gun.
I see quite a number of stainless guns that have corrosion. One
commonality of those I've encountered is that, since the rust is
usually hidden (and less likely to be found because of the belief
that stainless "doesn't rust) it usually does more damage.
Stainless corrosion tends to be deeper, leaving surface pitting
that is more serious than it might be on a blued gun.
If you live in a harsh environment - near the ocean, or in a very
humid climate - or if you perspire heavily, you should treat your
stainless gun more like a blued equivalent. Take the grips off
every time you clean the gun and look for any signs of corrosion;
use gun oil on the entire surface of the gun; clean the bore
immediately after shooting; take the sideplate off occasionally and
lubricate the interior; and always remember that the term is
"stainLESS", not "stainFREE"! -=[ Grant
]=-
A regular reader sent me a note
that, essentially, asked if I weren't a little daffy for talking
about (promoting) other gunsmiths.
Quick answer: I don't think so.
In any endeavor, there are people who stand out from the crowd,
whose peers agree are worthy of recognition and serve as
inspirations to others. Gunsmithing is no exception, and those who
do high grade work deserve a bit of fanfare.
The tone of the email suggested that I would be cutting my own
throat (in an economic sense) by giving another gunsmith free
publicity. While it's a possibility, I suppose, I'm not all that
worried; after all, I refer people to other gunsmiths on a regular
basis when I can't provide what they seek. In the case of Hamilton
Bowen, if someone needs the kind of service he specializes in I'm
happy to make a connection for them!
In what can sometimes be a contentious, egotistical business maybe
I can do my part to civilize things, if only a little bit. Call it
my small contribution to the field!
-=[ Grant ]=-
Someone recently asked me what
gunsmith(s) I admired or respected, or that I would allow to work
on my own guns. I gave him a few names, and thought you might be
interested as well!
My first entry in this occasional series is Hamilton Bowen. Bowen
is perhaps the gunsmith that the rest of us aspire to be; he
combines technical ability, commitment to quality, and a definite
style that is hard to define but easy to recognize. Bowen does it
all - sophisticated caliber conversions, unusual high-tech
customization, and superb restorations.
Bowen has been building superior revolvers for many years, and his
work has become well known from appearances in various gun
magazines. His fame doesn't stop there, however - he also wrote
what is the definitive book on the subject, titled simply "The
Custom Revolver." If you're into revolvers, this is a book that you
simply must own. (You can buy it through my Amazon
store here.)
Hamilton Bowen is truly the "gunsmith's gunsmith." I'd love to have
him work on one of my guns!
Well, it's more precise to say
that it's time for someone else to makedouble-actionrevolvers!
With Colt out of the revolver business, Taurus showing no signs of
moving past the low end of the market, Dan Wesson functionally
deceased, and Smith & Wesson producing mere shadows of their
former greatness, it's time for someone else to step up to the
plate. It's time for someone to take over the badly-served upper
end of the revolver market.
It's time for Freedom Arms to branch out from making the best
single actions to making the best double actions.
Why Freedom Arms? Because they've already proven their ability to
make a high-grade revolver. They're used to producing and selling
high-end guns, and they know how to make those guns both superbly
accurate and incredibly durable. They have a well-regarded brand
name, and an established dealer network.
They have everything it would take to introduce a top-flight double
action revolver.
It is, admittedly, a small market. The best of anything is always a
small market. That doesn't seem to stop Rolls Royce or Patek
Philippe, and I don't think it would stop Freedom Arms. There are a
lot of people who would have purchased Pythons were they still
being made to their former standards, and those would be Freedom
Arms' customers.
You know, I had a pretty darned
good childhood. I grew up on a small farm, outside a small town (I
remember when the town passed the 1500 resident milestone) that was
nestled in the foothills of the Cascade Range.
After chores were finished and if there were no other pressing jobs
to be done (like hauling hay), I got to do what I wanted. I could
go down to our pond and fish, or take off with my friends Dan
and/or Tom for an overnight camping trip - all with very little
administrative (parental) hand-wringing. Even a two-day trip up the
river and into the woods wasn't out of the question, though such an
outing did prompt some worrying from my mother.
Not a bad way to grow up!
Living as I do in suburbia, I long for the time when we would run
into the forest with little more than a small tent, a blanket, a
sheath knife, maybe a couple cans of baked beans, and a fishing
pole. (If we planned our trip into a particular area that we knew
contained several small caves, we didn't even bother with the
tent.) Woodcraft, such as shelter building and fire making, was an
expected part of any well-balanced upbringing. I miss those
days.
I have found a way to keep the hunger for simpler times at bay: I
curl up with Nessmuk.
What is a Nessmuk? Properly, the question is phrased "Who is
Nessmuk?"
Nessmuk was in normal existence one George Washington Sears. Sears
was a slight, asthmatic individual who was born in 1821 in
Massachusetts, and spent much of his life - at least, that portion
when he wasn't working just to finance his next adventure - in a
canoe or on a boat or in the woods.
He was able to combine his love of the outdoors and his
considerable talent as a writer by having narratives of his
adventures published inForest and Streammagazine.
He wrote two books,WoodcraftandCamping,
which are still in print - combined into one volume titledWoodcraft and
Camping(no surprise there, right?!?) It
is still available to this day, which must be some sort of record
in the publishing business. (Another book, calledAdirondack
Letters,
is a compilation of his articles in Forest and Stream.)
Woodcraft and
Campingis
not a thick book, nor is it solely a "how to" manual. It is the
collected wisdom and insights of a man who lived just to be able to
commune with nature. Nessmuk wrote in a beautiful, lyrical style
that makes the reader salivate with the desire to get out into the
wilderness.
At only $6.95, I believe it to be one of the greatest bargains - as
well as one of the "must haves" - in outdoor literature. I cannot
recommend this book highly enough to anyone who enjoys living in
and exploring the wilderness, or even just dreaming about it!
A client who works for a public agency in California contacted me
with a problem. As you may know, California has pretty strict ideas
about what constitutes a carcinogen. Management in his agency won't
let him use any lubricants that contain "substances known to the
state of California to cause cancer." That, ladies and gentlemen,
excludes most anti-wear and anti-corrosion additives!
After some consultation with experts, I was able to come up with a
recommendation. In general, if you need a "clean" lubricant with
good protection against wear and corrosion, look no further than
lubes made for the food service industry!
They have to be non-toxic and non-staining, and since food
production often involves contact with acids and liquids, they have
to be very resistant to those substances as well. They also
typically perform very well in colder temperatures and almost
invariably are superb at corrosion resistance.
If you've read myarticle on
lubricants,
you know I'm a big fan of Lubriplate's SFL series of greases, which
are designed and approved for food service. Another good choice is
their FGL series, which is a bit easier to get in the small
quantities shooters use. If you prefer an oil, their FMO-AW series
of oils (available in a wide variety of viscosities down to 5W) are
a superb choice.
These products should also be fantastic choices for those who have
allergic reactions to the additives present in other oils and
greases.
In this case, I recommended the FGL grade 00 grease to my client.
This is a very light, almost fluid grease with superb anti-wear and
anti-corrosion properties. It should pass muster with even the most
strict requirements that he has to meet!
The lure of a personalized and
decorated weapon is centuries old. Embellished swords and knives
from the 17th and 18th centuries are well known; before that,
soldiers in high standing had their armor decorated. Some of the
earliest firearms in existence are lavishly treated, with inlays
and fine woods.
Today many people desire to have their favorite guns engraved. But
where to start? There are so many engraving styles, not to mention
engravers, and asking someone to recommend an engraver without any
criteria is a little like asking them to recommend a band without
first deciding what kind of music you want!
I've recommended to many clients that they start by studying the
art of weapon engraving. With just a bit of research on your part,
you will quickly learn the difference between various engraving
styles as well as between quality engraving and the firearms
equivalent of the "Velvet Elvis."
If you're like most people, you'll be drawn to a specific engraving
style. Once you've identified what you like, you can then start
looking at the work of the engraver. Every engraver has a
specialty; while they may do many different styles, sometimes quite
well, they'll generally do their best work in one particular
style.
How do you get this education? I've found one book to be incredibly
useful: "Steel Canvas" by R. L. Wilson. (Yes, I know all about his
shady business dealings - but the book is superbly done, perhaps
the most accessible of all books on the subject.) This large-format
coffee table book is a bargain at about $30. In it, you'll see the
very best examples of all the styles from many well known engravers
current and past. This one book will help you identify the style
you like most, and will show you the best examples so that you can
judge for yourself if the engraver you've chosen is any good.
I can't recommend this book enough. Even if you don't have any
intention of having an engraved gun produced, you should get it
just for the superb photographs of "best quality" firearms. Of all
the gun books I own, this is the one I thumb through most
often!
If I may be so bold, you can get this book through myAmazon
store here.
Look at
it this way: to get a good engraving job will cost you time and
money (quality engravers don't work cheaply or quickly.) Spending
just a fraction of that cost, and a few pleasurable days looking at
stunning photos, is a very small investment that will repay itself
for years to come! -=[ Grant
]=-
That was my dear, departed
father's question whenever I was found to have done something that
wasn't all that bright. Of course, any self-respecting 10-year-old
knows how to answer: look at the ground, shuffle your feet, and say
(sotto
voce) "I
dunno."
Unfortunately, once you become of age and start asking yourself the
same question that tried-and-true answer know longer works. As luck
would have it, sometimes it takes a while before you ask.
Sometimes, it takes years. The great part about this delay is that
it allows you to once again say "I dunno!"
This is a story about just such an event.
Here in Oregon we're blessed with some phenomenal scenery. From our
gorgeous Pacific Coastline to the high desert east of the Cascades
(a treasure unto themselves), there is something here for every
taste. One of the most visited natural wonders is Multnomah Falls,
located just a short 45-minute drive from downtown Portland.
The spectacular waterfall - the second-highest year-round fall in
North America - is fed by a spring way up on Larch Mountain. In
fact, it's not the only falls served by that spring: there are
several other (much smaller, of course) falls that the water
travels over before reaching the "big one."
(From the U.S. Forest Service
website.)
Multnomah Falls is 620 feet high - a straight drop of 542 feet,
then a bit of a pool, then another drop of a mere 69 feet. A
footbridge spans the small canyon over the top of the smaller
section, and leads to a trail which snakes its way up the side of
the mountain to a viewpoint at the top. There, safely contained
behind fences and guardrails, one can look over the incredibly
scenic Columbia River Gorge.
However, back in 1982 there were no such amenities at the top -
just a small sign that warned visitors (those hardy enough to make
the steep climb) to stay on the trail. That didn't stop my buddy Ed
and me from doing something stupid, however!
A quick digression: Ed and I were aspiring photographers who spent
our days selling Nikons and other assorted high end gear to people
who also aspired to be photographers. Most of them, however, would
never put themselves on the line for "that shot"; we, on the other
hand, continually stick our various body parts in harm's way just
to get pictures that no one else would dare.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how we found ourselves in the
middle of that cold little river at the edge of Multnomah
Falls!
I decided that I wanted a different shot of the falls - one that no
one else would take. So we lugged our 35 pounds of gear (per
person, you understand) up the trail and sloshed out into the
water.
I walked to the edge of the falls, where I found a couple of rocks
between which I could wedge my Pentax KX-Motor camera on its Bogen
Monopod and shoot at a low enough shutter speed to capture the
movement of the water. I framed the scene to show the water going
over the edge on its way to the bottom (542 feet below my, umm,
feet) as well as a glimpse of the river and gorge, and made 3
exposures.
Once I developed the film, into my archives the negatives went - to
be resurrected here for the first time in a quarter century:
Looking at this shot today sends chills down my spine. It was
foolhardy in the extreme; I was literally leaning out over the edge
of the falls to take the picture, knee-deep in cold water, just a
slip away from certain death. I was either invincible or ignorant -
I'll leave it to you to determine which.
It shouldn't surprise you to learn that this wasn't the first - nor
was it the last - stupid thing we did in the name of photographic
immortality. My wife, one would think, would be used to this sort
of thing - yet when I told her the story (several years later), she
asked "what the hell were you thinking?!?" Need I tell you my
answer?
An often misunderstood aspect of
revolver construction is the idea of endshake. Endshake is nothing
more than the amount of back-and-forth movement (or front-to-back,
if you prefer) that the cylinder is allowed to make.
Measuring endshake is easy: using a set of feeler gages, the
cylinder is pushed forward and the barrel/cylinder gap is measured.
Then, the cylinder is forced backward as far as it will go, and the
gap measured again; the difference between the measurements is the
endshake. (When making the second measurement, it is important to
push the cylinder all the way back - even past any cylinder latch
resistance.)
How much is acceptable? That varies depending on the gun; Colts are
the most stringent, and need to have no more than .003" of endshake
for "factory level" condition. A S&W is generally allowed a bit
more leeway.
The amount of endshake any given gun will experience will vary a
bit over the life of the gun. As the cylinder pushed backward by
the force of the firing round, the ratchet (aka "ejector star")
ultimately hits the rear of the frame opening, which stops the
cylinder movement. With each round fired, the ratchet/star is
slightly deformed, and the frame is very slightly stretched. Over a
long period of time, this results in more space between the
ratchet/star and the frame, which increases the endshake.
As the endshake increases, the amount of "free run" the cylinder
has will increase the battering effect against the frame, resulting
in even more wear - which increases the endshake, and the cycle
repeats itself, getting progressively worse.
Why should endshake be a concern? Under the best of conditions, the
revolver cylinder would have zero movement. Of course, that rarely
happens in the real world; some endshake is inevitable. As endshake
increases, though, several things happen: first, the impact on the
frame, and frame stretching, increases; this can, in extreme cases,
result in the frame becoming unsuitable for use.
The immediate effects can be more visible. In a Colt revolver,
excessive endshake results in increased hand wear, which causes the
timing to fail prematurely; in extreme cases, it can also cause
bolt (the little "pop up" half-moon shaped piece in the bottom of
the frame window) to wear to the point of replacement. In a Smith
& Wesson (and to a slightly lesser extent Ruger), excess
endshake manifests itself as an inconsistent trigger pull which
gets worse as the endshake increases. These guns can also
experience increased bolt wear, though not nearly to the degree of
the more closely-fitted Colt.
(Interestingly, the Dan Wesson guns are very robust in terms of
their endshake handing; the spring-loading bearing detent at the
rear of the frame locates the cylinder at the forward-most position
every time, and also serves to absorb a bit of the recoil force of
the cylinder.)
An excessive amount of endshake can also affect accuracy. Not only
does it change the relationship between the chamber and the forcing
cone with every shot (and not necessarily consistently), but it
also changes the barrel/cylinder gap; both can have a negative
effect on the accuracy of the gun/load combination.
Setting the endshake to as close to zero as possible results in
increased frame and ratchet/star life, better action quality in
S&W guns, extended service intervals on Colts, and better
accuracy on all guns. That's why it is one of the first things I
check on any revolver that comes in to my shop!
Wednesday, January
10, 2007 Filed in: Humor, My
Life
I know you've always wondered: how
does a jet-setting gunsmith work with all of those adoring fans
hanging around? Well, I hate to disappoint you, but unless you
count an overindulged rabbit, no one is hanging around waiting for
me to pay them any attention!
Tyler, the spoiled
rabbit
Since my shop isn't open to the public, I get to dress and arrange
my environment as suits me. I usually work in sweatpants and a
sweatshirt (rarely matching), over which goes my little green
grocer's apron.
(You read that correctly; I have two old-fasioned green cotton
grocer's aprons, which I acquired when I worked in a grocery store
during high school. How long ago was that? Well, let's just say the
White House refrigerators were stocked with Billy Beer!)
My shop has no windows, so I'm forced to entertain myself as best I
can. I usually do so by playing music at somewhat
louder-than-normal volume. One might think this would be a
rock-n-roll custom, but not usually - I've been known to play
Scottish dance reels,Aaron
Copland,
Baroque trumpet concertos, andRed
Rodneyat
the same transducer-destroying level. (Eclectic? Hey, I was a music
performance minor in college - I'm allowed!)
So if you call and I don't answer the phone, it's because I can't
hear it over the noise of the shop equipment. That's my story and
I'm sticking to it!
-=[ Grant ]=-
Sorry to be late today, but my
cable internet connection has been experiencing spotty outages
lately. For the money I pay, you'd think they'd give me better
uptime than this!
GRRRRRR! But I digress...
Anyhow, today's topic once again comes from that fountain of
firearms misinformation, the local gun store. A fellow is looking
at several guns, and asks to see a Ruger SP101. The clerk tells him
that for concealed carry (ostensibly the prospect's use), a
revolver is "just no good. Too hard to hide the cylinder."
"Odd," I think to myself - "I've been doing it quite successfully
for some time now. In fact, I'm doing so right in front of your
face!" I did not, of course, say that out loud. I wanted to, but I
didn't. At least, I don't remember doing so.
That, however, seems to be the common perception. Many people think
that a revolver just has to be more difficult to conceal, because
the cylinder is so much thicker than an autoloader's slide. I'm
here to tell you that it is just not the case!
The cylinder really isn't a big problem to hide. Yes, it sticks out
from the body a bit more, but it really isn't all that much a
concern. Why? Because it's a gradual bulge - there are no sharp
edges to give away a profile under a garment. What's at or below
the beltline just doesn't seem to make much of a difference; it's
what sticks up above the belt that makes a gun difficult to
hide!
An autoloader, for instance, presents a very angular profile above
the belt. The top of the slide, where the rear sight is, comes to a
sharp point relative to a revolver. What's more, that point sits
farther above the belt than does the rear sight of a revolver.
These two factors combine to make the back corner of the autoloader
stick out more prominently than a revolver, and consequently more
difficult to hide under a piece of cloth.
Of course, the disparity doesn't end there! The other end of the
gun - in this case, the lower back corner of the magazine well - is
(again) a sharp angle relative to the rest of the gun. Even an
autoloader with a very rounded grip shape tends to come up higher -
and stick out the back more - than a round-butt revolver. Again,
this makes the auto more difficult to hide than our blessed
companion, the double-action revolver.
Now I'm sure that some will argue with me; some will, in their
misguided zeal to promote the self-shucking handgun, insist that I
am being "partisan." To them I say: OF COURSE I AM! What the heck
did you expect from someone whose blog is titled "The Revolver
Liberation Alliance"??
(Of course, none of that negates the fact that I am
right!)
You're
reading... The Revolver Liberation
Alliance! The blog about revolvers,
training, self-defense, and shooting in general (along with an
occasional surprise!)