Wednesday, December 28, 2011
A
man is sent to prison. At night, after the lights have been turned
out, his cellmate yells "number eight!" The whole cell block breaks
out laughing. After things quiet down, someone else calls out
"number eleven!" Again, everyone laughs.
The new guy asks his older cellmate what's going on. "Well," says
the other prisoner, "we've all been in here for so long that we all
know the same jokes. So to save time, we just yell out the number
instead of repeating the whole joke."
Feeling like he's now a full-fledged part of this fraternity, the
new guy yells "Number twelve!" No one laughs - not even a snicker.
Confused, he yells out "number three!" Silence.
Dejected, he turns to his cellmate and asks "what's wrong? Why
didn't I get any laughs?"
"Well," said the older man, "some guys just don't know how to tell
a joke."
I've written before - many times - about how I abhor what I call
"Traditional Rule One ("treat all guns as if they are loaded.") For
those coming in late, read this for the whole
explanation.
It's obvious that my opinion has had only minor effect on the
shooting fraternity as a whole, as I continually see that silly
rule referenced in blogs, forums and articles. That's bad enough,
but there's something else that gnaws at me: the use of a number as
shorthand for the rule itself.
I see references all the time to "Rule One", "Rule Two" and so on.
No explanation of what those numbers mean, just the number itself -
as if everyone both understands and agrees. The problem with safety
rules, obviously, is that not everyone understands them in the
first place. If they did, we wouldn't have so many accidents!
Particularly when dealing with people who don't have a lot of
experience with firearm safety, numbers obscure the meaning. Those
folks don't know the rules terribly well to start with, and
throwing shortcuts at them only compounds the problem. Have you
ever taken a class where the instructor assumes that you already
have every bit of the background he or she does, and refers to
things with abbreviations and acronyms that you don't recognize?
Frustrating, isn't it? That's what we as a community do by
continually referring to safety rules with only numbers.
Even for people with solid backgrounds in a subject, abbreviations
blur definitions over time. For instance, can you identify all of
the words in the common acronym "NAACP" without Googling? You've
seen it all your life, but I'll bet for many the words have long
since been forgotten. The same, I believe, happens with the safety
rules.
Right now, can you recite "Rule #2" perfectly and without
hesitation? What if your version of "#2" isn't exactly the same as
the next guy's? What are the safety implications? Don't you think
that's something you should know?
Rather than agreeing on a number, wouldn't it be a whole lot safer
to agree on the actual subject of the rule? What if your numbers
don't even refer to the same concepts - how is that in any way
promoting safe gun handling? It's not, and that's my point.
If you're an instructor, using numbers in place of words is a sign
that you're not paying full attention to the safety of your
students. If you're a blogger, it's an indication that - like our
hapless con at the top - you're more interested in being part of
the "in group" than of actually promoting gun safety.
Stop contributing to the problem: put safety in words that everyone
can understand. Say what you mean instead of abbreviating. Even if
people don't agree with you, at least they'll know what
you’re talking about!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: safety
Monday, November 28, 2011
I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving weekend - ours was filled
with windstorm destruction and a blown head gasket on my primary
vehicle. My spare time for the next couple of weeks will be filled
with hauling debris and fixing an engine. Why can't these things
happen in summer, when it's nice to be outside working?
---
Thanksgiving weekend seems these days to be filled more with
thoughts of football than of peaceful coexistence with one's fellow
man. Here in Oregon we had our annual Civil War Game - Oregon State
University versus University of Oregon, the prize being the
opportunity to play in another game of some sort. (No, I don't
follow college football - does it show?) I personally find it
rather sad that folks can tell you who's playing, why they're
playing, who the head coaches are, and even the names of a couple
of ousted coaches from a college clear back in Pennsylvania - but
can't name five of the top physics programs in the country.
(Just for the record, this is not age-related curmudgeonliness - as
my siblings will gleefully tell you, I had precisely the same
opinion as a kid.)
---
Someone (could have been Tam, but I’m not
absolutely positive) recently turned me on to a cool gun
blog: Forgotten
Weapons. Lots of great stuff about
guns you may not even know existed, presented with a decidedly
scholarly bent. Immediately became one of the few in my daily RSS
feed.
---
A couple of days ago I found out that my new book, The
Gun Digest Book of the
Revolver, is being sold in the U.K.
by Amazon. As of this morning the folks across the pond only had
two copies left, which sounds as though it's a big seller over
there. Then again, they may have only ordered three copies total -
this realization serving to keep my ego in check!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: old.technology, bloggers,
books,
book.of.the.revolver
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Over a year ago I read a review of a training course on one of the
gun forums. It's been long enough that I don't remember what the
course was, or who the instructor may have been, so I don't think I
have any dog in the fight. Besides, it's not the particulars that
matter in this story; it's the student's attitude that I find most
intriguing.
The person in question had taken a weekend course at some gun
school and was very critical of the instruction received. As I
recall, it wasn't the material itself about which he was
complaining - it was the instructor's attitude. The writer was
upset because the instructor had insisted that his students perform
the drills as he taught them, rather than as they were used to
doing. According to the reviewer, the instructor took a "my way or
the highway" approach to the material being taught. This,
apparently, was a Bad Thing.
My thought was (and still is) that this illustrated not a poor
instructor, but a poor student.
Why does one take a course? To learn a new skill, I should think.
If all a student wants is validation of what they've already been
taught, then he or she should simply repeat the courses already
attended. Taking a new course will naturally expose the student to
new material, and doggedly resisting that exposure is counter
productive for both the individual and the other students.
If one is going to learn a new skill one must first be exposed to
it and then take the time to practice. If someone goes to a class
and decides immediately that they don't want to do that, what's the
reason for being there in the first place? If you take a class, you
do it the teacher's way - that is, after all, the whole point of
the event, is it not?
Ultimately the student - not the instructor - is responsible for
his or her own competence. The instructor's job is to present
material competently, logically, clearly, and factually, but it's
up to the student to take advantage of what is being provided. An
instructor who insists that, while in the class, the student
practice only what has been taught isn't arrogant. (As long as the
material has been clearly presented and the students have been
given an opportunity to seek intellectual clarity and comfort with
that material, of course.) An unyielding commitment to structure
provides the proper environment for the student to become competent
if he/she so chooses.
Whether or not one "likes" new material is irrelevant, as we've all
had the experience of disliking someone or something until we got
to know them/it better. Part of the process is habituation, which
only occurs with repeated exposure. If the instructor doesn't
insist on that exposure, letting the students do it their own way,
how are they going to really know if it's for them? What other
frame of reference can one use to make any sort of a
judgement?
Note that I’m not considering the quality or applicability of
the material in this argument. If the student deems the techniques
or processes are silly or illogical or superfluous relative to his
needs, he is always free jettison them
after class has ended. During the
class, though, they need to be done the way the instructor is
teaching them - and he should insist on it.
(I am not addressing the very real instances where a physical issue
prevents the student from doing something the way it’s been
taught. That’s a separate issue, and the instructor should be
willing and able to accommodate the student’s
limitations.)
"My way or the highway", to me, is simply an instructor's
insistence that a student pay attention and get in enough reps to
at least start on becoming competent. I think a student should look
for that attitude in a trainer, not complain about it!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: gun.skool
Monday, August 08, 2011
One of the most popular items on this site is the little
essay "Why I Don't Work on Taurus
Revolvers". It generates a lot of
commentary (and more than a little hate mail) because it points out
the obvious: to produce a gun that sells for less than the
competition, something has to give. If that something isn't on the
outside, it's got to be on the inside. This is a simple fact of
economic life.
Over the years I've tested several randomly chosen Taurus revolvers
and generally found them to be seriously wanting in some important
aspect. For instance, the model 445 (which was produced for a very
short time, discontinued, and is apparently coming back) that I
procured suffered from several serious issues, including a
persistent ignition problem which required a huge amount of work to
correct. Other examples showed other problems, including timing
issues and accuracy woes.
Despite all that, I've said many times that if Taurus ever got
their act together that they'd give Smith & Wesson a serious
run for their money. I can't yet say that's happening, but a recent
outing with a Taurus 856 shows definite promise. My first exposure
to this model, shortly after its introduction, was not a pleasant
one - the gun was out of time from the factory, sufficiently so
that it was unsafe to shoot. That gun annoyed me to no end as I've
been pining for a small-frame six-shot .38 Special revolver since
the demise of the great Colt Detective Special (and the later
Magnum Carry.) This is a category for which no examples other than
the Taurus exist, and to have it prove to be a dog is a little like
giving a glass of salt water to a man who is dying of thirst.
This most recent example, I'm happy to report, was much better. Not
only was it in time, it also sported a decent double action trigger
(for a small frame factory gun, you understand.) It shot to point
of aim, was pretty accurate, and was generally pleasant to
shoot.
All is not wine and roses, however, as the stock sights are awful.
In fairness to Taurus this is not a situation unique to them, as
many (if not most) of their competition's offerings suffer
similarly. (I'm an advocate of the concept of using the sights when
you
need to, and under that philosophy
if you need to use your sights you probably need good ones.) That's
a problem which can be rectified by a good gunsmith but I'm hoping
for the day when it doesn't need to be.
Am I changing my stand about working on Taurus revolvers? I won't
go that far, as one gun does not a sample make, but for the first
time in years I was impressed with a Taurus product. They've always
had potential, and perhaps now they're starting to live up to it.
It will be interesting to see where they go from here.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Friday, August 05, 2011
This week marked the 10th anniversary of my father's death. That's
not tragic; what's tragic is that he didn't need to die.
You see, my Dad had colon cancer. By the time his symptoms appeared
it had metastasized and was essentially untreatable, and it didn't
take long before he was buried - along with tens of thousands of
other victims that year. Colon cancer is the second leading cause
of cancer deaths in this country, and your chances of developing
colon cancer are about 1 in 20. That's the bad news.
The good news is that colon cancer is incredibly slow to develop,
and because of that it is the most treatable form of cancer. Caught
early, the survival rate is better than 90%; caught in the
pre-cancerous stage, it's damn near 100%. Because there are
virtually no symptoms until it's too late, finding it early is the
key to eradication. As my doctor says, it's the only cancer where
the diagnostic tool is usually the cure.
That tool is the colonoscopy.
A flexible tube
containing a camera and a small scissors-like device is inserted
into the colon; if any pre-cancerous polyps are found the scissors
cuts them off and that's it! Having a colonoscopy every 10 years
(twice as frequently if you have a family history or a propensity
to develop polyps) is all it takes to keep you cancer free.
It's not a pleasant procedure, I'll give you that, but it's not
painful nor terribly time consuming. It's uncomfortable, perhaps a
little undignified, but it is the very best way to eliminate even
the possibility of development.
If you're over 50, you should be getting regular colonoscopies. If
you're under 50 but have a family history of colon cancer, you
should get one too. It's quick, it's easy, and it can save your
life.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Monday, May 16, 2011
A few weeks back I saw a picture of a defensive shooting instructor
which bothered me. I couldn't put my finger on why, but something
about it gnawed at my subconscious. I know the fellow only by what
he's written (and by his association with a much better-known
trainer), so it isn't anything that would stem from a personality
conflict, and yet the feeling remained.
It finally hit me the other day. In the picture this fellow is
wearing what is apparently his 'normal' complement of two
autoloading pistols, both carried appendix style: one for the
strong hand, one for the weak hand. Of course he had the requisite
spare magazines and folding knife clipped in a pocket.
What's wrong with that? It's a free country and people should be
allowed to carry whatever they want on their person. I agree
wholeheartedly. The problem I have is role modeling, and it's one
that I've become increasingly concerned with over the past few
years.
Many instructors (and I'd say all of those with any reputation), to
include yours truly, live the instructor lifestyle: we spend a lot
of time around guns and shooting ranges. What we wear, what we can
get away with wearing, is not what most of the people reading this
blog can wear on a daily basis.
When you live on a shooting range you get to dress casually as a
matter of course. Oh, there is the occasional donning of more
'dressy' apparel for an event, but such things are few and far
between (and the 'gunny' is usually cut some slack for having a
suit that is not of the highest quality nor properly fitted.)
Contrast this with what most people wear to their jobs everyday. I
don't know many who can get away with wearing the untucked polo
shirts that are all the rage amongst the appendix-carry crowd, let
alone the IDPA vests and other accoutrement that a lot of folks in
this industry wear on a constant basis.
In my own family there is a hospital administrator, a media anchor,
and a speech pathologist -- none of whom can adopt the kind of
weaponry and the style of carry that the majority of trainers
espouse. My nephew could possibly get away with wearing an
unbuttoned tropical shirt over a colorful t-shirt, but only because
he works for a company famous for producing such tropical shirts.
The rest of my family? Not a chance. My wife’s family? No. My
huge extended family (over 30 first cousins on my mother’s
side alone)? Less than a handful could. My neighbors? Not in their
jobs. In fact, almost no one I know outside of the shooting
industry could; their lifestyles, jobs, or environments just
won’t permit it.
This is important because students tend to emulate their teachers,
adopting not just their techniques but also their weapons and
dress. The problem comes when they spend their weekends training
with what I call 'guru gear' (I ought to trademark that) but switch
to their actual daily carry equipment at the beginning of their
week.
Training with ultra-fast appendix carry of a high-capacity
autoloader on the weekend, but defaulting to a 'J'-frame in a
pocket holster during the week, is not training in context: in the
manner in which something will be used. Training courses are too
often set up to reward the use of specific equipment, which gives
the student a false sense of their abilities with the equipment
they usually tote.
Walking around a range and showing students the kind of gear they
can't carry, in a manner that they can't in their workday lives,
isn't encouraging them to train in context. Doing so tends to
influence them, through aspirational psychology, to train with gear
that is different than what they'll actually be relying on come
Monday morning.
I'm not sure that's terribly responsible, and it’s why the
picture -- which could be of most instructors -- bothers me.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: gun.skool
Friday, May 06, 2011
Back in the late '70s and early '80s I was working in a camera
store while waiting my chance to make it big as a commercial
photographer (which, in turn, was my backup plan if I didn’t
make it as a trumpet player. Good thing I had that major in
accounting to fall back on! Ironically, I ended up doing none of
those things. Life is like that sometimes.)
But I digress. The employees in the camera store would regularly
hang their own work on the walls, giving a chance to showcase their
talent while establishing a baseline of credibility with the
customers.
One of the most common misconceptions was that our photos were good
only because of the 'fancy cameras' we possessed. Despite the
availability of photography classes (many of which I taught),
people would routinely choose to spend gobs of money on expensive
gear instead of a mere pittance on developing their skills with
what they already had.
Often such people would wander back after a few months and complain
that, despite spending all of their savings on the latest and
greatest gear, they still couldn't get good pictures. "Why won't a
good camera take better pictures?" Sometimes we could get through
to them, most times not. The American belief in equipment over
ability was, and still is, pervasive.
There are still folks today who do what my colleagues and I did:
attempt to educate rather than encourage consumption. Over at
Fstoppers, they've posted a video about the making of some great
photos using a camera many people
have with them all the time: a cameraphone, in this case an iPhone
4. Watch it and see what they do with just a couple of reflectors
and a cute girl.
(Think those reflectors fit the definition of ‘fancy
gear’? You don't need a commercially produced item - a sheet
of white foamboard, spray glue, gold foil from the craft store, and
some aluminum foil from your kitchen will make a very serviceable
two-sided substitute for a total investment of under $10. You can
also use one of those reflective car heatshields, which come with
silver on one side and gold on the other.)
The funny thing is that back in the '80s we did the same thing with
a Kodak Disc camera. It wasn't about the gear then, and things
haven't changed at all. Regardless of the topic at hand, opening a
wallet is unlikely to make a person any better at anything --
unless the credit card is paying for an educational activity to
help develop a skill.
Invest in yourself first. Always.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography
Friday, October 08, 2010
Dear USPS:
I'm writing this open letter because I know you don’t read
those that I send to you. How do I know this? I tried that already
and nothing's changed.
Listen, I know you guys and gals are hurtin’-fer-certain
these days, what with this newfangled email and all. The news tells
me that your revenue is down, and because the unions won't let you
do any commonsense cost-cutting your profit margins are getting
squeezed.
I feel for you.
Well, I certainly
would feel for you if I had any
confidence that the people in charge had an inkling of what to do
to turn your mess around. They've given little indication so far
that they do, but I'm going to help you out. I like the Postal
Service, I really do, even if I do think the title “Letter
Carrier” is less noble than the “Mailman” I grew
up with.
Because we have such a longstanding relationship, I’m going
to give you two simple, low cost (one of them is no cost) methods
that will add dollars to your bottom line. Not enough to save you
from your skyrocketing pension costs, but every little bit helps -
right?
Here goes:
1) Follow federal law with regard to shipping firearms. As it
stands, federal law allows any private citizen to ship a handgun
across state lines, as long as the recipient holds an FFL (Federal
Firearms License.) The USPS, however, has this strange idea that
BOTH parties need to have an FFL, precluding the private citizen
from sending his or her package (much more profitable than those
letters you're fixated on) with your service. As it stands, Federal
Express and UP get that lovely business, and it's a shame because
they charge three to four times what you do. With savings like
that, people would be crazy not to use you!
All it would take to steal that business from them is a simple
rewrite of your regulations to parallel federal law. That's it. It
wouldn't even cost you any money, because you're already paying for
those pencil-pushers to sit around in their offices. Might as well
get them to do something useful for a change!
2) Your website sucks. I don't mean the design necessarily (though
it does need some help in the usability and clarity departments),
but its functionality. If I want to ship a package, it should be
easy to do through USPS.com. Trust me on this: it's not.
First, you allow only specific browsers to work because you've used
proprietary code that only they recognize. Hello, this is the
twenty-first century! "This site optimized for Internet Explorer"
is as passe as Motorola brick phones, no matter how cool you think
Gordon Gecko is. Standards compliance is where it’s at these
days.
The second problem is that printing a mailing label with postage
requires the browser to download a little applet, which then
requires a third-party program - namely Adobe Acrobat - to run the
thing and print the label. Why? I have no clue, but it's what we
call a kludge, and it's incredibly sloppy. FedEx doesn't mess
around with nonsense like that to do the very same task, and
neither does UPS. If your people aren't smart enough to figure out
how to print from within the browser like those companies already
do, fire them and hire someone who actually graduated from high
school. (Oh, yeah, that pesky union thing makes it difficult to
fire the deadwood. Sucks to be you.)
Why should you care? Listen, I use a Macintosh. Despite the fact
that the Mac OS handles .pdf files internally, without the need for
ANY third-party separate utility, your stupid website forces me to
download Acrobat. The problem with that is that Acrobat is a buggy
resource hog that tries to rewrite my system's preferences so that
ALL .pdf files trigger Acrobat to start up. It's annoying, it's a
security risk, it's not at all needed or welcome, and more than a
few Mac users simply refuse to submit to such foolishness.
You're probably still asking why you should care. Well, Mac owners
are now upwards of 15% of installed computers in this country, and
the percentage online is a little higher. Marketing study after
marketing study shows that Mac owners are better educated, make
more money, and utilize online services more than users of other
systems. Like it or not (and Michael Dell most assuredly does not),
those are the facts.
So, tell me how a business plan that involves pissing away the most
affluent part of your market, those most likely to use your
services, is a good idea? It's not, and it's yet another reason
your volume is dropping. Redesign your site, make it standards
compliant, get rid of the proprietary browser code and that Acrobat
nonsense, and you’ll probably find people using it more. (I
assume that’s why you have the site in the first place,
amiright?)
Hey, if you like the way things are going, ignore everything I just
said. Otherwise, start acting like the independent corporation you
keep claiming to be and put your customers first. You can win
against the other guys, but you have to bring your "A" game. Right
now you’re not.
Two simple things, with my compliments.
Sincerely,
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: dammit
Monday, August 23, 2010
Over the years I've gotten a
number of inquiries about becoming a gunsmith. I've dashed off
short answers to some, but was forced to ignore many others simply
due to the amount of information that the answer demands. Here in
full (or as full as I'm going to get) is my advice on becoming a
gunsmith.
First let's consider what kind of gunsmith we're talking about.
Some "gunsmiths" are really nothing more than parts changers -
people who can disassemble a gun, manage to figure out what part
needs replacing, order one from Brownell's, and reassemble the gun
with the new part. It might even run when they're done! At this
level there is very little money to be made; most such people are
employed at minimum wage, perhaps slightly better, by sporting
goods and "box" stores. They'll usually spend most of their time
mounting cheap scopes on cheap rifles - that is, when they're not
stocking shelves and attending to other rather menial retail tasks.
This is the kind of job that a mailorder "gunsmithing" course
qualifies one to hold.
The next step up is the ability to fit ready-made parts and make
minor adjustments to actions. If the timing of someone's S&W
revolver is off, people at this level can drop in a new hand, do
the necessary minor fitting, and hand the customer a gun which
functions again. A person with these skills might be able to do
simple action work, smoothing out the roughest parts of a trigger,
do bedding jobs on hunting guns, or perhaps assemble an AR-15 from
parts and perhaps have it function correctly. The money's a little
better, but one is still spending a lot of time putting scopes on
WalMart rifles. Such people are most likely working for someone
else - perhaps a local gun store - because there isn't enough value
in what they do to run a specialty shop.
This intermediate level MIGHT be learned via correspondence, IF the
person is mechanically inclined, inquisitive about the results, and
motivated to buy many broken guns and learn on them. It does
require hands-on experience, but the driven person can probably
learn on his/her own as long as enough reference materials are
procured.
At the top you have true gunsmiths. These are the talented men and
women who can make and fit stocks from scratch, who can fabricate
metal parts when necessary, who can diagnose complex problems and
correct them the first time, who can make a worn out and abused gun
look and work like new again. These people can actually make a
living as gunsmiths, sometimes a quite decent living, and virtually
always work for themselves.
It takes a broad range of skills and interests to be such a
gunsmith, though most (like me) specialize in one area. At this
level the most important skills are not necessarily gun-specific:
machining, welding, polishing and heat treating of metal, woodwork,
and finishing for both wood and metal. These are skills that need a
certain amount of equipment, and can't be learned from a mailorder
course.
Many such gunsmiths acquired knowledge from one of the dedicated
gunsmithing schools, though you'll find some very well-known
gunsmiths either came from a related field and self taught the
relevant firearms knowledge, or apprenticed to a Master in the
trade.
I'll confine the rest of my comments to becoming a true gunsmith as
I've defined the term. If you're serious about making a living,
this is the level to which you need to aspire.
First off, understand that you'll need excellent mechanical
aptitude, an inquisitive nature, and a drive to do nothing but the
best in order to succeed. Without each of those, you simply won't
make it in this field.
If you are starting from scratch, the best course of action is
probably to attend one of the dedicated gunsmithing schools. There
are perhaps a half-dozen around the country, but the two I'm
familiar with are both in Colorado: Trinidad College and Colorado
School of Trades. I've met graduates from both schools and have
been impressed with their skill and professionalism. This isn't to
say that the other schools don't turn out good graduates, only that
these are the schools whose graduates are familiar to me.
If for some reason you can't make it to such a school, all is not
lost. It will take a little longer, and you'll have to do it
piecemeal, but it can be done with resources that are likely to be
in your area. What follows will sound roundabout, but should serve
to impress upon you the wide range of skills a gunsmith must
have.
If you're not mechanically inclined, you'll need to be introduced
to the principles of mechanical devices. Auto repair courses are
available in every community college and are a great way to get
used to seeing how parts interact, anticipating and diagnosing
problems, and generally getting comfortable with complex
mechanisms. (On a personal note, I find many people today
surprisingly averse to getting their hands dirty. Gunsmithing can
be a dirty job, and if you're at all squeamish about such things an
automotive course would be a good attitude adjuster.)
Many adult education programs across this country feature courses
in clock repair, usually taught as a hobby to retired folks by
retired watch & clockmakers. These classes have most of the
advantages of an auto repair class, along with getting accustomed
to working with small parts. Starting this way will put you in good
company: I learned my mechanical skills as a teenager when I became
a clock and watchmaker, and another gunsmith you may have heard of
- Bill Wilson of Wilson Combat - started out as a watchmaker,
too.
The next step is to develop some relevant skills in metalwork. The
best way to do this is by taking every machine shop and welding
class your local community college offers. Learn how to work with
metal: forming, machining, hardening and tempering, finishing. If
you plan to do serious rifle work, you'll probably need to take
classes in woodcarving and fine furniture building too. The things
you'll learn in those classes are the things I do every single day,
and without that breadth of knowledge I could never accomplish the
work that I do. The "gun stuff" is relatively easy in comparison,
as long as those basic skills are in place.
If a tool and die making course is available to you, it would be a
great advantage to take it.
Once you have those skills in hand, you'll need to get some
extensive firearm-specific knowledge. You have several avenues;
first, you can attend some specialized (limited duration) classes
at the aforementioned schools to learn how to apply those skills to
guns. Another avenue is to take classes from a well-known gunsmith.
Ron Power and Bill Laughridge, for example, both offer weekend
classes on specific topics. Finally, you could apprentice to a
master gunsmith and work for him/her on an occasional basis to pick
up what you need. (Before anyone asks, no - I'm not currently
interested in taking on an apprentice!)
An extremely talented and motivated person could, possibly, get
this information from books, but not without the base skills
discussed above, and certainly not without mechanical
aptitude.
Because most of the good gunsmiths work for themselves you'll need
to have some talent in business management and sales/marketing.
Since this is a people business, those with unpleasant
personalities or poor communication skills will be at a
disadvantage. You have to like guns and you have to like gun
owners! These days a working knowledge of using the internet as a
business tool is almost a necessity, as is a good website.
To get started will require some capital investment on your part.
You'll need a suitable lathe, milling machine, welding equipment, a
wide variety of hand tools, air compressor, benches, tooling for
the lathe and mill, and a seemingly endless list of specialized -
and expensive - gunsmithing tools. A skilled machinist (which you
should be if you've followed my advice) can make many of them, but
there are many more that really need to be purchased. That runs
into money!
How much money depends on what you plan to do and how good you are
at bargain hunting, but you're unlikely to get in for less than
$20,000 unless you run into a string of screaming good deals.
(That’s on top of your schooling, of course.) I’ve
heard from a couple of gunsmiths who’ve done it recently, and
they tell me that two or three times that figure may be more
realistic if you’re buying mostly new tools. What you
specialize in will have a dramatic effect on your investment.
You'll need to have the resources to make that level of financial
commitment, plus the additional resources to weather the inevitable
startup phase. Plan on being without a solid income for at least a
year as you build your business. Every truly capable gunsmith I've
met has done it in a matter of months, but that's not a guarantee
that you can or that your market can support such growth. Plan for
the worst, and if it doesn't happen so much the better!
Finally, you'll find lots of failed "gunsmiths" in the internet
forums who will be glad to tell you how hard the gunsmithing trade
is: how expensive it is to get started, how you can't make a living
at it, and so on. Keep in mind that you won't find too many
successful gunsmiths hanging around those places, because we're
frankly too busy to bother!
Yes, it's a tough business. Guess what? All businesses are tough.
I've owned a number of business concerns in my life, and helped
start several others, and none of them were easy. Gunsmithing is no
different. Don't listen to the naysayers who got in thinking it
would be a sure thing, who thought that they could succeed despite
being ignorant and obnoxious. If you have the skills and the
business acumen, if you like dealing with people, and finally if
you like guns and shooting, you can be a successful gunsmith. All
it takes is hard work!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
Last year Gail Pepin interviewed me for the ProArms Podcast,
and it finally got released this
week!
I'm pretty sure the delay was due to the amount of editing
required. We were up at the Firearms Academy of
Seattle, and Gila Hayes had
insisted that I try a dessert she'd made - some sort of brownie
mocha torte. Near as I can tell it starts with a 55 gallon drum of
concentrated chocolate extract which is somehow crammed into an 8"
square cake pan. I usually don't eat such rich (and sugary and
caffeinated) desserts, and it left me 'wired' for a couple of
hours. You can actually hear me slow down toward the end as the
effects wore off. My wife thought it was hilarious. Some of the
sillier stuff was thankfully left on the cutting room floor (free
tip: never do an interview while on a sugar high, unless you want
to sound like a deranged chipmunk.)
Most common phrase not heard in the interview: “you can edit
that out, right?” I’m sure I added immeasurably to
Gail’s blooper reel!
Much as I like bragging about myself, the cool thing is that the
other interview on this episode is with Rob
Pincus! Rob's interview was done a
little over a month ago, just after I finished his Instructor
Development class, and Gail thought the two interviews would make a
good match. She's right as usual. (Thanks to the mocha torte, this
is the only time you'll ever hear me able to talk nearly as fast as
Rob!)
Enjoy!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: proarms, rob.pincus, combat.focus
Monday, February 16, 2009
One-liners, sound bites, and witty retorts are often used to
convince others to unthinkingly follow a certain path or belief.
When the subject matter is of little import, they are simply
amusing. When subjects turn more serious, they impede the flow of
vital information necessary to make good decisions.
Such is the latest, a hearty "guns break!" when faced with evidence
that one's choice in safety/rescue equipment might not have been
ideal. Yes, guns are mechanical contrivances and do suffer
failures; it is important, though, to understand the nature of
failure before making such proclamations.
Any mechanical device - be it a gun or an automobile - is subject
to failure from several causes:
- design flaw
- inferior materials
- construction irregularities
- improper maintenance
- suitability mismatch
Of these, only the last two are within our control - the others are
beyond our control. That doesn't mean we're at the mercy of the
fates, however; the end result can still be affected by the choices
that we make.
In order to avoid failure, one would choose a perfect design, made
with the best possible materials and showing the highest
workmanship. Of course, that can only happen in La-La Land (or the
internet!)
In the real world we have to make compromises at all of those
points, and it is necessary that we understand those compromises
going in. Nothing's perfect, that's a fact. From 'imperfect' to
'near perfect', though, is a continuum: we have bad choices, better
choices, and - if we're lucky - superb choices.
Simply put, there will always be better choices than others for any
given criteria. For instance, let's say that you were looking for a
car to get you reliably back and forth to work - day in, day out,
with as little down time as is possible. You might succumb to
glitzy marketing and pick a Land Rover or a BMW, or perhaps
something more pedestrian like a Toyota or a Honda.
Were you to look at reliability rankings for those brands over at
Consumer Reports, you'd find the Rover and the Beemer were the
least reliable over a large sample, while the Toyota and Honda are
rated as the most reliable. (One example from each may be at the
far end of the bell curve, but the probability of getting that one
is not with you. A sample of one is just that: one.)
Of course, there are other aspects to the choice: comfort,
amenities, performance, and (admit it) status which also might
figure into the decision. Understand, though, that those cannot be
transmuted to the primary criteria: reliability.
In this example, were you to pick one of the first two brands, the
likelihood of a failure leaving you stuck on the side of the road
increases dramatically. You might be able to fool yourself, but the
data says that the Euro-rides will suffer more frequent failures
than their Asian counterparts. That is a fact you just can't
sound-bite your way around.
If your co-workers happen to point out that your fashionable wagon
breaks down more often than their less ostentatious wheels, how
intelligent would it be for you to yell "cars break!" at them? Yes,
they know cars break, which is why they chose examples which break
less often. Getting mad at them won't make your car's repair record
any better.
The same is true for firearms and their attendant equipment. Like
it or not, there are products which, over time, have proven to fail
less often than others. If reliability and/or longevity is your
primary concern in a gun-related purchase, you should understand
that there is in fact a range from most to least, and make your
choice accordingly.
Pretending that there is no difference between the alternatives
because they all fail at some point is ignoring reality. As someone
once told me: you either acknowledge reality and use it to your
advantage, or it will automatically work against you.
Georges Rahbani, 'The Best Rifle
Instructor You've Never Heard Of', has a great way of putting
this in perspective: if you're buying a gun for fun (plinking,
target shooting, hunting, competition, etc.), you can be far less
demanding about reliability/longevity. A failure in those
applications is of minor consequence, and thus you have leeway to
factor other criteria into your decision.
If, however, your firearm is a serious tool upon which your life
may depend, you need a relentlessly critical attitude toward your
choice. Don't make it on the basis of one-liners heard at the
gunshop.
-=[ Grant ]=-
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
I recently received an email asking my thoughts on Taylor Throating
- the procedure where a reamer removes the rifling for roughly a
half-inch past the forcing cone, and the edges of the lands are
chamfered to match. The concept is to make an area that allows the
bullet to 'stabilize' after jumping the barrel gap, but before
entering the rifling.
Taylor Throating is somewhat controversial, with some holding it to
be the greatest thing since peanut butter, while others claim that
it is pure snake oil. In the interest of full disclosure, I don't
offer the service - even though I've invested in the equipment -
simply because I remain agnostic regarding its value.
Reports of miraculous results seem not to have occurred under
controlled conditions. By that, I mean tested on a gun without any
changes other than the throating. The glowing reports tend to be
from those who had a lot of other work done at the same time,
including timing and forcing cone changes. It's hard to say if the
positive reports are in fact due to the throating, to other work,
or to something subconscious on the part of the shooter doing the
testing.
I've experimented with Taylor Throating on a properly maintained
Dan Wesson .357, using several 6" barrels, and shot by two
different people (one of whom was your author); the results were
inconclusive. When a barrel with just the throating was tested,
there was a slight increase in accuracy - but it was not
consistent, nor large, enough to rule out normal shooter
performance variation. A barrel prepped with a proper crown and an
11 degree forcing cone (as pioneered by Ron Power) achieved a
definite positive result, roughly equal to what is said to be
expected by some Taylor advocates.
My preliminary opinion, based on my admittedly limited experience
with the technique, is that a proper forcing cone and a perfect
crown still produce the most noticeable accuracy improvement. Of
course, this is assuming that the gun is in perfect condition
(timing, cylinder/barrel alignment, etc.) to begin with.
There are a couple of specific conditions where Taylor Throating
might prove useful as a salvage technique: when the barrel/cylinder
alignment is just a hair off in the vertical axis, or where there
is a noticeable constriction in the area where the barrel screws
into the frame. In those cases accuracy changes in excess of what
would normally be expected have been reported, and may be
legitimate. There are also some indications that it may extend the
useful life of a severely worn barrel, where replacement is
difficult or economically unwarranted.
Some specific downsides have been identified, however. If the
throated area is even a tiny amount bigger than the chamber throats
(or the bullet diameter), lead bullets will suffer "blow by" and
gas cutting - severely leading the barrel, and definitely
decreasing accuracy.
In the end, it's your choice. I'm not ready to call it a fraud, but
neither do I see a definite positive benefit to having it done.
When I come up with solid evidence on either side, you can bet I'll
report it here!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
There are times that I feel
I'm harping on the safety issue, but with the number of grievous
injuries and deaths that occur I don't think it is
unwarranted.
The latest, sent to me by an alert reader, is a self-expose
(complete with pictures) of a nasty handgun incident. Short
version: this fellow, in an attempt to test a recently installed
grip safety, pointed his gun at his leg and pulled the
trigger. The sequence of events was
predictable. (Warning - the pictures may be graphic for some
people.)
Once again, I'm going to place
the blame squarely on Traditional Rule #1: "All guns are always
loaded", or any variant thereof. He felt free to do something
blatantly stupid with his gun, because he was sure that he had
unloaded it. Since he was sure that he unloaded it, in his mind the
other rules obviously didn't apply. If they did, he wouldn't have
pointed it at his leg as he intentionally pulled the trigger!
What bothers me most about this fellow's misfortune isn't that he
was injured, but that he still doesn't get why it happened in the
first place. He is so clueless about this, in fact, that he cites
the classic Four Rules of Firearms Safety, starting with the
offending Traditional Rule #1 in his article, and explaining to his
readers that they should follow them. This is in fact the wrong
thing to do, and is what caused his injuries.
It is my opinion that the more people who follow Traditional Rule
#1, the more accidents like his will occur. Again, Traditional Rule
#1 leads people to do dumb things with guns, because once they're
convinced the gun is unloaded they feel at liberty to ignore the
other three. In my opinion, we should instead be teaching people to
follow the Three Commandments of Gun Safety religiously:
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.
Let's look at his accident: he violated the First Commandment,
because he thought the gun was unloaded.
He then violated the Second Commandment, because he thought the gun
was unloaded.
Finally, he proceeded to violate the Third Commandment, because he
thought the gun was unloaded.
The result? A large emergency room bill. Lots of pain. All because
Traditional Rule #1 allowed him to do stupid things with a gun once
he was "sure" it was unloaded!
(It is worth noting that the gentleman in question, one Darwin
Teague, is on Usenet record as declaring that he would never carry
a Glock, as he considers them to be "unsafe." With all due respect,
Mr. Teague, if you do stupid things with guns, loaded or not, all
the safety features in the world won't stop you from shooting
yourself - as you have found out. I wish you luck, as you seem to
need it.)
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: safety, i.told.you.so
Thursday, September 27,
2007
A reader alerted me to this 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 called
cognitive 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
apply
only to 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
to
unloaded guns!
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 they
think are 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
to experienced
shooters, 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 that
any and all guns, loaded or unloaded,
are treated to the
same standards, 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 are
no exceptions, 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.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags:
safety
Monday,
September 17, 2007
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 of
unity we 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!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Monday,
September 10, 2007
If you're
just joining us, I ask that you peruse the earlier parts of this
Series:
Part
1
Part
2
Part
3
Part
4
Now, on with the show!
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.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Monday,
August 27, 2007
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
movement in 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,
the ne plus
ultra of 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 ]=-
Monday,
August 13, 2007
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.
Movement
seems 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
of
emphasis. 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
in
unity 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.
-=[ Grant ]=-
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
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 a Jack
Bauer kind 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, "if Tyne Daly can 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 the Lethal 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!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Monday,
August 06, 2007
As I
mentioned in Part
1,
there are some recognized design principles that are universal.
Let's look at some of them.
Proportion
is 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 done
symmetrically, where the elements are
arranged equally on each side of an imaginary balance point,
or
asymmetrically, 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!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Monday,
July 30, 2007
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 more Velvet
Elvii floating around this world
than works of Rembrandt, but that hardly makes them
equivalent!
Stay tuned for more...
-=[
Grant ]=-
Monday,
July 16, 2007
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.
Monday, June 04,
2007
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
]=-
Thursday, May 10,
2007
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
]=-
Wednesday, May 02,
2007
Pardon my French!
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.
Hope this all makes sense!
-=[ Grant
]=-
Wednesday, April 18,
2007
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 the choice
inherent in the
right.
You see, it's not the exercise of the right in and of itself that
matters; it's the existence of the choice
to 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.
Milton Friedman was right.
-=[ Grant
]=-
Monday, March 12,
2007
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) regarding my
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't
measure
an out-of-round
condition with a pin gage, we can certainly identify
that 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!
-=[ Grant
]=-
Wednesday, March 07,
2007
This article in the Tennessean newspaper
explores 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 you Grant'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 by Gila
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
]=-
Wednesday, February 21,
2007
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!
-=[ Grant
]=-
Monday, February 12,
2007
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
]=-
Monday, January 29,
2007
Well, it's more precise to say
that it's time for someone else to make double-action
revolvers!
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.
How about it, FA?
-=[ Grant
]=-
Wednesday, January 24,
2007
I get the most interesting phone
calls!
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 my article 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!
-=[ Grant
]=-
Wednesday, January 03,
2007
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!)
-=[ Grant
]=-
Wednesday, December 27,
2006
It's surprising how little
attention is given to the back of a revolver's trigger. I recently
came across a gun that had been worked on by another gunsmith (more
on this in a future blog post), and one aspect of the gun
illustrated the limited understanding of revolver shooting by many
'smiths.
The face of the trigger had been polished smooth, but done in such
a way that the sides tapered to meet the back, leaving an untouched
knife edge. For anyone with more meat on their bones than Nicole
Richie, manipulating the trigger results in a very nasty "pinch" as
the sharp edge traps flesh against the frame.
So, what should the trigger look like? The back edges of a proper
double action trigger should be slightly rounded and polished, to
prevent pinching. The larger the radius of the back edge, the less
chance the trigger will trap flesh. This allows the shooter to
concentrate on the act of shooting, not on avoiding pain.
This is similar to the "biting" problem that many shooters
experience on a 1911 with the standard grip safety. On that gun,
for some reason, everyone "knows" about the situation, and
beavertail safeties are expected equipment. Sadly, this same level
of knowledge has not yet filtered down to the revolver-buying
public - perhaps this will help spread the word!
-=[ Grant
]=-
Wednesday, December 20,
2006
The internet forums sporadically
ignite with a common debate: what "J" frame is the best?
The disagreement seems to center around the fans of the exposed
hammer models (who hold out the dream of needing to make a
"precise, long range" single action shot) and those of the enclosed
hammer Centennial models (who opine that the lack of entry points
for dirt outweighs ever needing single action capability.)
I'm not qualified to talk about tactics, but there is one salient
point that is missed in the crossfire: the Centennial models simply
have better actions!
The enclosed hammer Centennial models have slightly different sear
geometry than do the exposed hammer models, which gives them a pull
that is more even - more linear - than the models with hammer
spurs. For the savvy shooter it's a noticeable difference, making
the Centennial a bit easier to shoot well.
The Centennials also have one less part than the other models:
since they have no exposed hammer, they don't have (nor do they
need) the hammer-block safety common to all other "J" frames. That
part, which is quite long and rides in a close-fitting slot
machined into the sideplate, is difficult to make perfectly smooth.
Even in the best-case scenario, it will always add just a bit of
friction to the action. Not having the part to begin with gives the
Centennial a "leg up" in action feel.
(In fact, at one point in time a common part of an "action job" was
to remove this safety, in the same way that some "gunsmiths" would
remove the firing pin block on a Colt Series 80 autopistol. Today
we know better!)
So, if your criteria is action quality, the choice is clear: the
enclosed hammer Centennial series is your best
bet!
-=[ Grant
]=-
Monday, December 18,
2006
If I had a nickel for every time
I've been asked that question...!
On every forum, in my daily email, and in the phone calls I receive
is a common query: "of the guns available at a dealer, which one
should I buy?" These folks are looking for some guidance beyond the
simple choice of caliber and barrel length - this is more along the
lines of "who makes the 'best' revolver?"
The answer I give? Ruger. This, from an admitted revolver snob
who's known for working on Colt Pythons!
The GP-100 and SP-101, which are the most popular models, are
mature designs. Their design is simple and rugged, and their
construction has not changed due to fashion or cost-cutting.
The actions respond nicely to gunsmithing work; a well tuned Ruger
can have a buttery-smooth, perfectly linear double action pull that
will rival any of its competitors. The SP-101, in particular, has
an action that is many people feel is more "shootable" than its
nearest competitor, the S&W "J" frame.
Speaking of the SP-101, it has another advantage over its
competition: superb sights. The rear fixed notch is wide and deep
compared to other guns, giving the little SP a much nicer sight
picture.
The GP and SP guns, because of their stud grip frames, have trigger
reaches that fit people with small hands very well; the GP-100,
fitted with the "compact" Ruger grip, has a shorter trigger reach
than a S&W "L" frame! This is great news for those of us with
smaller-than-average mitts.
The downsides? Fit and finish on Ruger revolvers is not up to the
level of, say, older S&W guns. (Of course, new S&W's aren't
up to the old S&W's either, so that's hardly a condemnation!)
Rugers have lots of sharp edges, and their finishes are not
terribly pretty - but, if you're having custom work done anyhow,
these are things that can be easily rectified.
Rugers don't get the credit they deserve; if you don't like the new
MIM-internal lock S&W models, and want something of better
pedigree than the Taurus line, take a hard look at Ruger. You might
be surprised!
-=[ Grant ]=-
Monday, October 30,
2006
- This thread at GlockTalk seemed oddly familiar to me.
People routinely ask about the lifespan of a particular gun, while
at the same time suggesting that somehow the guns of yesteryear
would last longer under use than today's offerings. I'm not sure
that this is the case.
Let's jump back to, say, 1935 or so. Someone has just bought a new
.38 Special revolver (take your pick of quality makers) and a box
of ammunition - a box that might last them for a decade or
more!
What I've managed to decipher from the "old folks" I've talked with
is that they just didn't shoot guns all that much. There weren't a
lot of competitive shooting events back then, and even those that
existed demanded less ammunition in a year than a typical IDPA
match consumes in a weekend. A box of handgun ammo (50 rounds) per
year was considered a "lot" of shooting by many of these folks; at
that rate, our mythical revolver would be considered to have been
heavily used, having only seen a total of 3500 rounds!
Flash forward to 2006, and a certain maker says that their gun has
an "expected lifespan" of 6,000 rounds. Doesn't sound like much to
us, but it may be two or three (or possibly ten) times the number
of rounds that guns sold in 1935 would expect to see over their
lifetime.
Perspective, people. There is a lot to complain about in the
craftsmanship (or lack of same) coming out most of today's
manufacturers, but one generally can't fault the durability of the
guns. There are exceptions, of course, but in the aggregate
I suspect that your average GP-100 will last longer than the folks
of 1935 could even imagine.
-=[ Grant
]=-
Monday, October 16,
2006
Heard about "MIM" parts? MIM is an
injection molding process for metal parts, and it has been
revolutionizing many industries. In the revolver business, both
Smith & Wesson and Taurus have made use of MIM parts. Like any
new process, however, there are those who decry the new technology;
some gunsmiths spread the misinformation that MIM parts can't be
worked on, and refuse to take in guns using MIM parts. Adding fuel
to the fire are a few well-publicized parts breakages, most notably
with 1911 autopistol sears.
Is there something inherently wrong with MIM parts? No, but the
story is a bit more complex than that.
I have some experience with MIM parts in revolvers; I'm not at all
averse to the use of MIM parts, where appropriate. Note those last
two words!
MIM is just another metalworking method, like forging and casting.
Like those well-established metalworking methods, it has strengths
and weaknesses. Far too few engineers apparently understand
them.
First off, a steel MIM part can be treated like any other steel
part; it can be welded, soldered, blued, hardened, and tempered.
This is important to understand, as there is a perception out there
that the parts are not "real" steel. They are!
The advantages of an MIM part do not generally include raw cost;
the material is expensive, and the molds are horrendously
expensive. The benefits come in the area of post-fabrication. The
MIM part, as noted, can be heat treated - the benefit is that they
don't need to be, as the hardness of the part can be engineered in
when the part is made. The parts come out ready to use; no
additional surface finishing is generally needed. Finally, the
parts can be made in shapes that would be extremely expensive or
nearly impossible to economically machine.
The downsides? Cost, as already noted. Additionally, the tolerances
for an MIM part generally need to be larger; it's hard to hold them
to .001" in all dimensions (though they're getting better all the
time.) Another problem is that the technology doesn't work all that
well for parts that are more than about 3/8" thick (again, this
gets better on an almost monthly basis), nor on stressed parts that
are very thin.
There are other, less obvious pros and cons of MIM parts, but you
get the idea - MIM, like anything else, is a balancing act.
Now here's the part that those of you who aren't fond of MIM should
understand: the problem isn't with the technology, but with the
engineering behind the part itself.
As noted, MIM on a per-part basis is pretty expensive, but since
they can be engineered with specific traits they can eliminate some
expensive secondary operations - hardening, for example. Here's the
problem: let's say that you are building 1911 sears, and MIM seems
a good method for producing them. You decide that the sear has to
have a certain hardness (so that it doesn't wear), and since the
surface finish is good "as produced" you think you're home
free.
The trouble is that the MIM part is the same hardness all the way
through, since that's how it was engineered. This is great for
reducing sear face wear, but with hardness comes brittleness - and
that thin edge is quite brittle. What you need is a surface
hardening of some sort for wear resistance, with the underlying
material left softer for strength. You COULD do that with an MIM
part, but if you did you'd negate one of the primary benefits of
the method: the elimination of secondary operations. So the company
chooses to continue to use the MIM part as designed, and which is a
poor choice for the application. No wonder some people don't like
them!
The bottom line: if you have trouble with MIM parts, it's not the
part's fault - it's the fault of the engineers in the company that
designed the part. (Frankly, I wouldn't want to buy an entire gun
from a company that botched the engineering that badly, regardless
of whether or not I replaced the parts in question. I'm funny that
way!)
-=[ Grant
]=-
Wednesday, October 04,
2006
Forgive my deviation from revolver
centrism, but a recent rifle class in which I assisted brought to
mind a topic which is just not understood amongst gun owners:
"reliability."
What is "reliable"? You'll hear all kinds of definitions, all kinds
of criteria. My definition is deceptively simple: the next time you
pull the trigger, the gun will function perfectly. That means zero,
zilch, nada, nyet failures. Every single time, regardless of how
many rounds you've just shot. Not just "bang", but feed, fire,
eject, and feed again.
Sounds like I'm easy to please, right? You'd be surprised at how
few guns actually do perform to this standard. I expect a reliable
gun to do this after a full weekend of shooting, regardless of the
number of rounds I've shot, as well as right after cleaning. Every
single time, without exception.
Note that I don't specify any particular number of rounds, because
I've encountered instances where reliability was defined by some
arbitrary round count, such as 500 - and when the gun crapped out
on the 501st round, it was still deemed to be reliable since it had
met the number! Sorry, not in my book.
One test I've heard (for autoloading rifles) is "six magazines of
duty loads, fired as quickly as you can change magazines." Sounds
great, right? I've seen an AR-15 which would only pass such a test
one time, yet the owner decided it was reliable because it met the
test criteria! The fact that it couldn't perform the feat again did
not dissuade him in his opinion.
The only caveats are that 1) the gun be maintained according to the
maker's recommendations and 2) fed ammunition which conforms to
industry standards for that caliber. Anything else - such as the
ever-popular mud wrestling test, making it into a popsicle, and
other such activities - can be considered the ballistic equivalent
of a Harlem Globetrotters game: entertaining to watch, but no
indicator of an ability to win the NBA finals.
I've seen more than one gun which happily ate a magazine of ammo
after being dropped into a mud puddle, but couldn't be counted on
to function perfectly at any unannounced time. Mind you, it
malfunctioned maybe once every 400 or so rounds, but sooner or
later it would fail. Reliable? Not by my definition.
You'll run into many people who will tell you that this is "no big
deal - I've got lots of guns that will do that." At the risk of
offending someone - believe me, it's not my intention - I will
quote Hugh Laurie, playing the namesake character in the TV series
'House': "everyone lies."
When I say "every time you pull the trigger", I mean
EVERYTIME.
When I say zero failures, I mean ZERO.
One fellow of my acquaintance is known locally for his promotion of
a particular gun, which he insists is "absolutely reliable." This
is a fellow with a good reputation, someone that other people
consider honest and, presumably, look up to. Trouble is, he lies -
I've seen his gun fail, and I know others who have witnessed it
too. Yet, he continues to insist that his gun is "perfectly
reliable." In one class, I met someone with an HK 91, supposedly
the epitome of functionality; of course, the owner insisted it was
"reliable". It suffered a FTF the first day, and an FTE the second.
The owner continued to refer to it as "reliable".
If your gun will not function with ammunition that meets
industry-standard specs, then it is unreliable. I had an encounter
with a gunstore commando a while back; he was going to loan his
"custom built" AR-15 to another employee. He gushed that his pride
and joy was the most reliable gun he had ever seen - then, almost
in the same breath, told the other fellow not to shoot Winchester
ammunition in it, as "it won't feed Winchester all of the time."
Even if it functioned 100% with everything else (though I doubt
it), that it wouldn't work with one specific brand means that it
simply wasn't reliable. (Back to revolvers - if your wheelgun won't
fire every brand of ammunition in its caliber with zero misfires,
it's not reliable!
My favorite rifle instructor, Georges Rahbani, always says that you
are only as good as you are on
demand -
the same goes for your gun!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Wednesday, September 27,
2006
I had an interesting email
recently. The writer said that he'd contacted a number of gunsmiths
to inquire about action work. In every case, he said, all he could
get out of them was "we can make it lighter." Occasionally I'll get
an inquiry from the other side of this phenomenon - someone whose
only question is "how light can you make it?" Why this fixation on
pull weight? I believe it's because people just haven't been
properly educated!
If you've read my essay on "What makes a good trigger?", you already know about the
factors that go into a quality action job. (If you haven't read it,
go ahead and do so now; I'll wait.)
Back already? OK!
When having action work done, there are three competing performance
criteria: weight, reliability, and return.
Weight is self explanatory, and is what most people relate to. I've
covered this in the article referenced above, so I won't go into
more explanation - except to say that weight isn't the only thing
you should consider, and if that's all your gunsmith can talk about
you might want to re-think having him work on your gun!
The second performance criteria is reliability. When I speak of
reliability, I mean the expectation that the gun will ignite
primers from all common ammunition 100% of the time in both single
and double action. That means even the hardest primers being made
(currently CCI Magnum primers) will light off every time that the
hammer falls; anything else is less reliable. A gun that fires off
Federal primers all the time, Winchester most of the time, and CCI
Magnums about half the time isn't reliable; it may be
acceptable for
the use that
the gun will be put to, but it is not reliable. (As it turns out,
the more reliable the ignition, the more accurate the gun will be.
There are a number of reasons for this, which I'll go into in a
later article.)
Finally, there is return, or the action of the trigger resetting
itself. In the article I referenced above, I talked about
the qualities
of trigger return -
but there is more to consider. One way of lightening the overall
pull weight of the action is to reduce the spring tension that
powers the trigger return. This can introduce a couple of undesired
side effects; first, the return spring tension can be so low that
the trigger "sticks" and doesn't return (most prevalent on guns
where the quality of the trigger return, in terms of smoothness,
isn't understood or is ignored.)
The second side effect is that the return speed is lowered. This
results in the shooter being able to "outrun" the trigger, shooting
faster than the trigger will reset itself. This can cause premature
cycling of the cylinder (the cylinder rotating without the hammer
being cocked and dropped) or action locking (requiring the shooter
to stop his/her pull, let the action reset, and then restarting the
pull - most common on Rugers.) In a competition, these side effects
can lose points - in a self-defense scenario, they might cause you
to lose something more precious!
Here's the "kicker": when getting action work done, you get to
choose any two of the three performance criteria, but not all
three. For instance, if you want light pull weight and good
reliability, you're going to sacrifice return. If you want light
pull and good return, you're going to sacrifice reliability. If you
want reliability and fast trigger reset, you're going to have to
learn to deal with heavier pull weights!
There is no free lunch, and there isn't a gunsmith in the world who
can repeal the laws of physics; you get any 2, but not all 3 in the
same gun. You have to make the decision as to what is best for your
intended use!
Let me illustrate: I am starting work on a Ruger SP-101 that is to
be shot by an older lady. She only shoots reloads that her husband
makes for her, and only at the range (this is not a defensive or
competition piece.)
The primary concern is ease of cocking the gun in single action; it
won't be used in double action at all. So, the criteria that is
important in this case is action weight; we don't care all that
much about return (other than it actually do so - the speed isn't a
consideration), and since the fellow can load the ammunition to
shoot in this specific gun (he will use whatever primers necessary
to make the gun run), reliability is not a concern. This is a great
example of tuning the action to fit the use!
For a defensive gun, reliability is the first consideration, with
return second. For a competition gun, say for ICORE or USPSA (or
even IDPA), the speed of the action reset is paramount - followed
by a light pull weight. The competitor will usually select or
reload ammunition to suit the gun, which makes reliability (in the
sense that I use the term) less a concern.
If all a gunsmith can talk about is how light he can make the
action, he's ignoring fully two-thirds of of action performance.
This is a two-way street, though - its not just gunsmiths who don't
understand this stuff! Shooters raised on the typical gun rag
articles never learn about this either, because all most writers
know how to discuss is pull weight.
When I get an inquiry from someone whose only question is "how
light", I try to educate him or her to make more informed choices.
I hope I've been able to do that here!
-=[ Grant ]=-
Monday, August 21,
2006
Well, the guns are certainly real, in the sense that they were made
by Colt. What's not real, though, is they way they came from the
factory!
With the prices of collectible Colts going well north of a grand,
some unscrupulous sellers have taken to faking the rarer, and more
valuable, variations. The most commonly faked is certainly the 3"
Python.
A number of years ago, Colt sold off their remaindered barrels to
companies such as Numrich Gun Parts. Amongst the prizes were a
number of 3" barrels - brand new, mind you - for the Python.
When prices started their ascent a few years ago, some enterprising
people took more common 4" Pythons, stuck the 3" barrels on them,
and sold them as the far rarer variant. It didn't take someone long
to figure out that one way to overcome buyer resistance was to
include a Colt box that had the 3" label on the end - of course,
the label is a complete forgery, but enough to fool most people
into parting with far more money than they should.
Well, the more astute buyers soon wised up to this scam, and
started demanding factory letters to prove the provenance of the
piece in question. In today's digital world, faking a Colt letter
is as easy as faking the box label - so now there are 3" Colt
Pythons running around with "original" boxes and "factory letters"
to calm even the most jittery buyer!
It's gotten bad enough that I now recommend anyone contemplating
the purchase of a 3" Python to call Colt and order their own
factory letter. If the seller shows any reticence to letting you do
this, you've probably just saved yourself a whole bunch of
money!
(I have been approached by a number of people over the past few
years to swap barrels on Pythons - replacing a stock barrel with a
3" tube to be supplied by the client. In each case, I've told the
caller that I'd be happy to do so, but I would be stamping and
indication under the grip panels that the gun was not original. Not
too surprisingly, none have taken me up on my offer. I will not be
a party - knowingly or otherwise - to fleecing Colt buyers!)
-=[ Grant ]=-
Friday, August 11,
2006
Many people ask me where to get finger grooved grips for various
guns (often for the Colt Python, but the Ruger GP-100 seems to be a
common request as well.) Personally, I usually try to talk them out
of that style grip, and I'd like to share my reasoning.
First, the grooves rarely fit any given person perfectly; for my
hands, for instance, every grooved grip I've ever tried required me
to spread my fingers to an uncomfortable degree. If I didn't, my
fingers would wind up on top of the separating ridges, making
shooting far less comfortable and secure! Women, who often have
hands that are significantly smaller than their male counterparts,
are particularly sensitive to this problem.
Second, anytime you add spacing between your fingers the combined
strength of your grip is reduced. You simply grip harder with your
fingers together than apart. There's a reason that hammers don't
have finger grooves!
Third, having grooves on your grips slows down your acquisition and
draw. No less a personage than Jerry Miculek, in a television
interview, eschewed finger groove grips. As he put it, "no one gets
a perfect grip out of the holster every time." A smooth,
non-grooved grip allows you to get a workable grip immediately,
where a grooved model requires that you get perfect finger
placement from the outset. That is not what you want on a
self-defense firearm!
I could point out that another revolver shooter who was "pretty
good" was Bill Jordan, and you'll note that the grips he designed
and used don't have finger grooves.
It's possible that if one is accustomed to holding a revolver in a
light target-shooters grip, finger grooves may help in control. (I
don't, I don't know anyone who does, and it's not what most
trainers teach today.) Outside of that, I think they are an
abomination and suggest that you not use them!
-=[ Grant ]=-
Friday, August 04,
2006
There is a huge amount of misinformation regarding revolver
accuracy. Folks, assuming that you have a gun in proper repair -
timing, lockup, chamber-to-bore alignment - the most important
factor in accuracy is the chamber throat dimension.
What is the chamber throat? It is the slightly constricted opening
in the chamber, just in front of the cartridge mouth, that the
bullet passes through on its way into the forcing cone. The throat
gives the bullet its first stabilizing guidance, and many people
better than I have demonstrated that it is critical to good
accuracy - perhaps more than the bore itself!
The best accuracy is obtained when the bullet diameter and the
throat diameter are exactly the same; in the case of lead bullets,
it can be up to .001" smaller than the bullet diameter with good
results. If the throat is larger than the bullet, then the bullet
sort of wallows through the throat and never does get that initial
guidance. Accuracy will suffer.
It is therefore important to serious shooters to know what their
throat diameters actually measure. Now, I took heat from some
internet experts recently when I stated that one cannot get proper
measurements of throat diameters using calipers - dial, vernier, or
digital. One fellow wrote me that he'd been doing it for years with
nothing more than a cheap dial caliper, and the readings were
always "nuts on!" While I don't wish to argue with anyone, let me
relate a little test I did.
I took a cylinder that happened to be on my workbench - a S&W
Model 60 "J" frame cylinder - and measured its throats with
calipers, then with a set of certified pin gages. There were three
different calipers - a vernier, a dial, and a digital electronic -
all of Swiss origin. The Swiss make the finest calipers on the face
of the earth, and substantially better than the Chinese tools most
stores sell. In addition, I've been measuring very precise watch
and clock parts since I was a teenager, and have more experience
using quality measuring devices than the vast majority of people
you are likely to meet. In other words, I know what I'm doing and
I've got the best tools to use!
I started by checking the throats from several angles, to eliminate
the possibility that they were oval instead of cylindrical. Since
this is a brand-new cylinder, the readings were identical, showing
that the throats were indeed machined correctly.
What did I find? The vernier caliper indicated the throat diameter
was .355+", the dial caliper showed .3560", and the digital read
.3555". Now for the moment of truth: the certified pin gages, which
are the most accurate method of determining a bore size, proved
that the bore was in fact .3585" ! That is between .0025" and .003"
discrepancy!
Precision machinists will quickly tell you that a caliper - even
the best, like I have - are only good to a "couple of thousandths"
(.002"), and not reliable at all for inside measurements under a
couple of inches. (Frankly, I was surprised that I got as close as
I did!) The verdict? One simply cannot measure throats precisely
with a caliper, even using the best that money can buy - they
aren't sufficiently accurate.
(It should not come as a surprise that I'm not a big fan of
calipers; I don't use them for anything remotely critical. I
consider them to be "ballpark" instruments at best, and rely on
best-quality Swiss micrometers for about 90% of my work. What does
your gunsmith use??)
-=[ Grant ]=-
Friday, July 07,
2006
As previously mentioned, I acquired one of the recently imported FN
"Barracuda" revolvers, and am in the midst of determining what to
do to improve the action. I have to make a living, too, so this
isn't on the top of my priority list....be patient!
In the meantime, I have managed to develop some information about
the lineage of this gun. Some less-informed sellers have been
insisting that the Barracuda was made in Belgium, and that the very
similar Astra was either a rip-off or a licensed copy. To quote one
internet 'expert': "The FN Barracuda was the only revolver FN ever
made. They were made a little over 20 years ago and dropped as they
never sold as FN thought they would. They are not Astra's nor are
they copies, they are entirly FN made."
Trouble is, that is a complete untruth. If you have a Barracuda,
pull the grips off; on the left side of the grip frame, next to the
mainspring adjustment ring, you'll see the gun's proof marks.
You'll note that the proof marks are all from Eibar, Spain - there
are no FN Herstal or Liege (or any other Belgian) proof marks on
the gun.
Serendipitously, I also have a cross-check: I recently came into
possession of an Astra-badged version of this gun. Guess what? Same
Spanish proof marks, in the same spots, as the FN version.
Conclusion: The FN Barracuda revolver was definitely
NOT produced in Belgium, and was
definitely NOT made by FN. It was in fact
made in Spain by Astra, for it is their
proof marks that adorn the gun. I hope this settles the controversy
once and for all!
-=[ Grant ]=-
Monday, July 03,
2006
Occasionally someone will call or email: "I'm looking for a good
gunsmith - do you work on Taurus revolvers?" When I politely inform
the person that I do not, the result is often indignance, as if to
say "how dare you decline to work on my fine possession! You have
insulted me, suh!" (Delivered in the best antebellum manner, of
course.)
Taurus revolvers possess many positive traits: they're available in
a wide variety of calibers and configurations, they are usually
fairly reliable, and they are priced right. Unfortunately, it's
that last bit that gets me into trouble.
You see, the most expensive part of building a handgun,
particularly a revolver, is the finishing work. You can't automate
the polishing process, and Taurus revolvers are generally very well
polished and finished. Given their low price point, this means that
finishing is a large percentage of the purchase price. This means
that they have to skimp somewhere, and the place that they do is in
parts fitting.
Taurus guns have parts that simply do not fit as tightly - as
precisely - as some other manufacturers. Yes, you can do a
shadetree action job, maybe swap springs, and improve the action -
but it will never be truly 'great' without rebuilding the
gun.
I've purchased a couple of Taurus revolvers (Taurii??) to work on,
to evaluate. While I like the guns (the now-discontinued model 445
is really neat, and I carry it occasionally) the effort to put a
truly world-class action job on one results in huge labor
costs.
Look at it this way: if you want a top-end wheelgun you have to pay
for fitting parts at some point. With a Taurus, it doesn't happen
at the time of purchase; it can only occur in the gunsmith's hands,
which drives the cost up considerably. Like the folks who
commissioned custom Norinco 1911s about a decade ago, what you end
up with is a really expensive $300 gun
that no one wants to buy.
I have a finite amount of time to spend, and I’d rather spend
it working on revolvers that will actually see an increase in value
after quality work has been done. That may sound arrogant, but I
suspect their owners share my point of view. That value increase
just won't happen with a Taurus, because after all is said and done
it'll still be a Taurus: a good gun for the money you spend, just
not a good candidate for customization.
-=[ Grant ]=-
Wednesday, June 21,
2006
Poor Dan Wesson. The marque, famed
for their switch-barrel revolvers, has suffered through more inept
management regimes than your average banana republic (no, not the
clothing chain!) Today you can ask ten random shooters about the
company, and almost none will know that Dan Wesson is still in
business. Their innovative revolvers - the work of the incomparable
Karl Lewis - are no longer found on dealer's shelves.
How did we get to this sad state of affairs? To understand, we need
to go back to the beginning of the Third Dynasty....
At the time, Dan Wesson was located in Palmer, MA. Production had
reached new lows in both quality and quantity, and their strongest
market - handgun silhouette shooters - were tiring of their
on-again, off again production history. Despite some interesting
introductions (a line of fixed-barrel guns and a true small frame
concealed carry piece, dubbed the "Lil' Dan",) the company was
forced into bankruptcy.
Into our story steps a fellow by the name of Bob Serva, who bought
the company and moved it to Norwich, NY.
The problems surfaced almost immediately. The machinery included in
the purchase was found to be "worn out", and supposedly incapable
of making quality guns. (The irony of that statement will be
revealed later.) You'd think that someone would have scrutinized a
little thing like that out before writing a check, but no matter -
the company invested in some new equipment, and then spent quite a
long time resetting the new shop to produce guns.
Let's stop for a moment and review the revolver market at that
point in history. Colt, stung by their association with certain
anti-gun political elements and fresh out of bankruptcy, had all
but abandoned the revolver market - and really didn't seem to care.
Ruger was selling lots of guns, but their line was limited and had
precious little to offer either competitors or the growing
concealed carry market. Taurus was moving up in the market, but
suffering from a reputation for having quality control problems (a
perception which persists to this day.) The market leader,
Smith&Wesson, had problems of their own: an apparently
effective grassroots boycott, a persistent rumor that they were a
hair's breadth away from bankrupcty, and being put up for sale by
their British owners.
The market was in turmoil; it was ripe for a quality product,
particularly one with unique features not available anywhere else.
With all the competitors preoccupied with their own problems,
market share was there for the taking - and Dan Wesson was in a
good position to grab some. They had a line of revolvers that was
strong, accurate as all get-out, and far more versatile than
anything the competition had to offer. In addition, they had the
Lil' Dan, which with some attention could easily address the
burgeoning demand for concealed carry guns, and a fanatical (though
shrinking daily) customer base. (I oughtta know - I'm one of those
crazies who loves his Dan Wessons!)
So, with a brand new acquisition, new machinery, and a market ripe
for the picking what did the owner of Dan Wesson do?
Right - he introduced a line of 1911 pistols!
The introduction of the 1911 guns seemed to take the wind out of
revolver production. During this time, Dan Wesson made only one run
of frames for the world's most popular revolver caliber, the .357
Magnum. Quality was so poor that I personally had to return a gun -
ordered in for a special client - because the sideplate gap
approached .006" in places! The action was awful, and the hammer
and trigger had been slapped into the gun with no finish work
whatsoever. The production manager apologized profusely, and
hand-selected a replacement - which was only marginally better.
This is when I learned that all of the frames had been made in a
single run in the first year of the company's revived production,
and most (if not all) apparently suffered from this egregious
fault.
Remember the irony I alluded to? Even the much-maligned Palmer guns
- the worst of the lot, made on that "worn out" machinery - had
sideplates that fit correctly!
To their credit, they did try - sort of. Dan Wesson placed small
black-and-white advertisements in relatively inconspicuous places
in the gun magazines. The ads were pitiful: poor design, bad
graphics, and too much room taken up with religious symbolism.
(Before the hate mail comes in, understand that I have no problem
with religious symbols in the right place and at the right time. An
advertisement for a firearm in a gun magazine is neither the time
nor the place.) The average small-town "nickel shopper"
advertisement looks more professional than anything Dan Wesson was
able to insert into glossy national magazines.
Magazines weren't the only marketing avenue, however. Recognizing
the power of the internet, they put up a website - but it would be
a couple of years before they bothered to procure their own domain
name, instead using the site under the domain name of their ISP.
The site was horridly designed, didn't work on anything other than
a 17" monitor, and didn't even have much information. (Hey, I know
their product line, and if it was difficult for me to figure out
what was what, imagine what a new customer would go through!) They
didn't understand what a website was really for: I saw a listing of
various new grips that were available, but no pictures. An email to
the company netted the information that the pictures were only
available in their printed catalog, for which they charged $5!
That's what we call "behind the times."
Things weren't much better with industry relations. Gunwriters,
love 'em or hate 'em, are how the general public learns of, and
forms opinions about, new products. I've heard first-hand stories
of Dan Wesson management personally making multiple promises of
test-and-evaluation samples to individual writers, but never
delivering. With behavior like that, it's no wonder that Dan Wesson
remained in a publicity rut.
Once the 1911s started rolling off the assembly line, revolvers
took a definite back seat - way back. Parts became hard to get;
Brownells even dumped the line, rumored to be tired of
non-delivery. What little "innovation" centered around odd and
useless chamberings. (Yep, I'm sure that the .460 Rowland - aka
.451 Detonics Magnum rebadged to assuage someone's ego - was a big
seller. I'm being facetious, in case you missed it.)
I suppose the argument for the switch to 1911 production was
because revolvers "weren't selling very well." Of course, given the
poor management of the whole mess, one would expect sales
problems!
In my mind, the only saving grace during this period were some of
Dan Wesson's employees. The aforementioned production manager was
pleasant, honest, and seemed genuinely saddened that revolvers had
been relegated to the back burner; the gal who essentially ran (and
still runs) their parts and customer service operation has always
been efficient and helpful (and has something of a following on the
internet forums!)
That brings us more or less to the present. Roughly a year and a
half ago, CZ-USA somehow acquired Dan Wesson and Mr. Serva took a
job with the parent company. (He has since left CZ-USA.) So far, CZ
doesn't seem to be all that interested in Dan Wesson revolvers -
their website didn't even mention revolvers until just recently,
and it's taken them over a year just to make their first .357 gun.
Supposedly they are busy doing "market research", which to me means
they still don't have a clue what to do with the wheelguns.
CZ, if you're reading this, here's some free advice:
1) Concentrate on building up to a standard, not down to a price.
Saying you make high quality products, but not actually delivering
high quality, doesn't count. If you need proof that this works,
look at the company who took you main market from you: Freedom
Arms. (If you need still more examples, Google "Tom Peters". Heck,
Google him anyway - you need all the help you can get.)
2) What sells best? Historically, it's been mid-size guns in .357
Magnum. Start there; make 'em better than anything else on the
market. Hunting guns in common calibers should be next (the .445
SuperMag, as neat as it is, isn't a common caliber.) You need a
concealed carry piece; the market is crying for a good, small
6-shot .357 to fill the shoes of the late and much missed Colt
Magnum Carry.
3) "Quality" means some attention needs to be given to the double
action lockwork. They aren't smooth or consistent enough, they
stack horribly, and their trigger return is sluggish. Spend some
engineering money and fix those traits, and don't for a minute
think that you can slide by with what you've got now.
4) Forget locks and MIM parts; make them the way the market wants
them to be made, not the way some politician deems they should.
(There's a big backlash against the built-in locks of your
competitors; ignore this at your peril.)
5) You need a presence in competition; be visible in IHMSA, ICORE,
USPSA, Steel Challenge, and IDPA. Revolver divisions are attracting
more and more shooters; fInd people to sponsor, at all levels of
ability. (Quantity counts in this game.)
6) You need actual marketing: proper advertising, editorial
content, and a strong web presence. (Your current website doesn't
cut it; if you plan to keep the Dan Wesson name, you need to
establish a separate domain for it. You'll notice that the Mercedes
website is separate from the Chrysler website for a reason.)
7) You'd better come up with an innovative dealer program. No
matter how much you advertise, if it isn't on the dealer's shelves
- and the dealers don't actively support you - you've lost a sale.
(Hint: kiss up to the retail salespeople, not the boss. The guy
sitting at the desk in the back room isn't who's selling the
things.)
8) Don't ignore the growing women's market, but understand that
pink grips and shiny finishes aren't what they want. They are
sharp, savvy consumers who have different buying patterns and
criteria than men. You need to learn what those are and supply
products and services to match. (You have one huge advantage that
no one else has, and it has never been exploited by any of the
previous ownership. If you can't figure it out on your own, give me
a call.)
9) Finally: if you're not going to do it right, don't do it at all
- sell the revolver division to someone who will. Dan Wesson and
Karl Lewis deserve it, and the legions of Dan Wesson enthusiasts
deserve it. Don't let us down.
-=[ Grant ]=-
Thursday, June 01,
2006
A new toy just arrived at the shop: an FN 'Barracuda' revolver in
.357!
The Barracuda was FN's only foray into the revolver market; they
were produced for a few years during the 80's. Various
"authorities" say the gun was made by Astra and marketed by FN,
others hold that it was made by FN and later licensed to Astra.
Frankly, from my examination of the construction techniques and
general build quality, I'd venture to say that it was made by Astra
- and that's not bad, as Astra is a good manufacturer in their own
right. A small quantity of new-in-box specimens were recently
unearthed and brought into the country.
The gun has a 3-inch barrel and fixed sights, the rear having a
slightly unusual profile reminiscent of the Dan Wesson Model 14 -
sort of "humpbacked." Surprise: the barrel is pinned and the
chambers are recessed, just like Smith & Wessons of days past.
Another S&W-like detail are the four screws holding one the
sideplate, with a fifth screw in front of the triggerguard. The
cylinder yoke is held in with a push-button arrangement, very
similar to Korth practice. Size is somewhere between a "K" and an
"L" frame, and uses "L" frame speedloaders (not "K" frame, as is
usually reported.)
The grips, of very nice walnut, show a definite resemblance to the
checkered wood grips Colt supplied with Detective Specials in the
1980's. The grips are well-fitted to the gun; my only complaint is
that they're a bit shallow (front-to-back) for my tastes. Trigger
reach, even for my small hands, is quite comfortable for a
"service" sized arm.
One thing I could do without is the hooked triggerguard, but it
does lend an interesting profile to the piece. I'm also not a big
fan of the serrated trigger (Jerry Miculek notwithstanding), though
I'll admit this one is less painful than most of its breed.
Fit & finish is pretty good, but the interior is quite crude -
on a par with Rossi arms, at least in terms of parts fitting.
Metallurgy, though, appears to be better than expected.
The action is fairly smooth for a factory gun, but not very
consistent in its travel. Single action breaks with almost no creep
and just a touch of overtravel; double action has near zero
overtravel, similar to a Colt action. One nice touch is the
user-adjustable pull weight; on my sample, double action weight
could be varied from approximately 11-1/2 pounds down to 9-3/4
pounds. I might add that my analysis and measurements were done
with the gun "as is", from the box - the action is bone dry, and I
expect things to improve considerably with a little
lubrication.
After I get the chance to range test it, I'll be getting into the
internals to see what can be done to improve this gun.
Unfortunately I didn't find out about these in time to snag one
from the distributor, so I had to content myself with paying
retail. (Ugh. I feel so violated!) Still,
for the $300 it cost, it really is a good deal - and with only 400
imported, it's not likely that another will show up next to you on
the firing line!
Pictures and an in-depth test will follow in a few weeks. Stay
tuned!
-=[ Grant
]=-
Thursday, May 18,
2006
There is an assertion that comes up with surprising frequency,
particularly in the internet age where everyone is an expert: the
Colt Python (and all other Colt revolvers) are "delicate", "go out
of time easily", or "not as strong/durable as a S&W."
Let's start with the construction: a Colt revolver, for any given
frame size, is as strong as any gun with that frame size. Their
metallurgy is absolutely the best, and their forged construction is
of superior quality. They are superbly made, and their longevity is
a testimony to that fact. You are never compromising when you
choose a Colt!
How about the charge of "delicate" or "goes out of time easily"? In
my work, I see a lot of Colts; I shoot them extensively myself.
With proper maintenance, I've seen no tendency for any Colt to go
out of time. Yet, the rumors persist!
Why do such opinions exist if there wasn't some basis to them? Is
there some amount of truth? I think I can answer that!
Let's start with some facts: Colt revolvers have actions which are
very refined. Their operating surfaces are very small, and are
precisely adjusted to make the guns work properly. Setting them up
properly is not a job for someone who isn't intimately familiar
with their workings, and the gunsmith who works on them had better
be accustomed to working at narrow tolerances, on small parts,
under magnification.
Colt's design and construction is unique; it uses the hand (the
"pawl" which rotates the cylinder) and the bolt (the stop at the
bottom of the frame opening) to hold the cylinder perfectly still
when the gun fires. The action is designed so that the hand - which
is the easiest part to replace - will take the majority of the
wear, and is expected to be changed when wear exceeds a specific
point.
This is considered normal maintenance in a Colt revolver, which is
not the case with any other brand. To get their famous "bank vault"
cylinder locking and attendant accuracy, you have to accept a
certain amount of maintenance; it goes with ownership of such a
fine instrument.
I've often made the statement that a Colt is like a Ferrari; to get
the gilt-edged performance, you have to accept that they will
require more maintenance than a Ford pickup. Unlike gun owners,
however, folks who own Italy's finest don't complain that they are
more "delicate" than an F-150!
I truly think that the negative reputation that Colts have in some
quarters is because their owners - unschooled in the uniqueness of
the Colt action - apply the same standards of condition that they
would to their more pedestrian S&W guns.
What standards? A Colt, when the trigger is pulled and held back,
should have absolutely no cylinder rotation. None, zip, zilch -
absolutely no movement at all! Not a little, not a bit, not a
smidgen - zero movement. A S&W, on the other hand, normally has
a bit of rotational play - which is considered absolutely normal
and fine.
There's another measurement to consider: at rest, a Colt cylinder
should move front-to-back no more than .003" (that's 3/1,000 of an
inch.) This is - in the absolute worst case - about half of the
allowable S&W movement!
Now, let's say a S&W owner, used to their looser standards of
cylinder lockup, buys a Colt. He goes and shoots it a bit, and the
hand (which probably has a bit of wear already, as he bought it
used) is approaching the normal replacement interval. He checks his
gun, and finds that the cylinder has just the slightest amount of
movement when the trigger is back, and half of his S&W's
longitudinal travel. Heck, he thinks, it's still a lot tighter than
his Smith so it must be fine to keep shooting it.
WRONG! It's at this point that he should stop shooting, and take it
to an experienced Colt gunsmith to have the action adjusted. Of
course, he doesn't do this - he keeps shooting. The cylinder beats
harder against the frame, compresses the ratchet (ejector), causing
the hand to wear even faster, and the combination of the two leads
to a worn bolt. If left unchecked, the worn bolt can do damage to
the rebound lever. When it finally starts spitting lead and
misfiring, he takes it in and finds to his astonishment that he's
facing a $400 (or more!) repair bill, and perhaps a 6 month wait to
find a new ratchet.
Of course, he'll now fire up his computer and declare to anyone who
will listen that Colts are "delicate" and "go out of time easily"
and are "hard to get parts for." That, folks, appears to be the
true origin of these fallacies.
Colts do require more routine maintenance, and a more involved
owner; that's a fact. But, as long as the maintenance is performed
properly, a Colt will happily digest thousands upon thousands of
rounds without complaint. The owners who take care of them will be
rewarded with a gun that is a delight to shoot, wonderfully
accurate, and visually unmatched. Those who don't will sell them
off at a loss and complain on the internet.
I sincerely hope that you will choose to be the first type of Colt
owner. If, however, you are the second, please drop me a note - I'm
always in the market for Colt revolvers at fire-sale prices!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: colt