I know, I know… It’s been ages since I’ve written anything firearms related at all. Well today I got dragged out to the range for some tinkering with technology (target cam – fail / DVR Glasses – Meh) and even got in a little trigger time versus some steel plates.
The video is a little disappointing, but has potential for future range trips.
(I did finally manage to set the clock on these glasses AFTER the range trip – so future videos should actually have the correct date/time)
I haven’t really blogged about it but I’ve been resuming my previous gun activities. Range trips every week or two, mainly with the handguns in anticipation of resuming some sort of competitive practical shooting activity (with what organization has yet to be determined).
Reloading activities taking place under the supervision of an experienced reloader (considering the sum of my experience at this point consists of loading 1000 rounds of 9mmP, and pushing cleaning media out of .223 casings I am a wee bit shy of classing myself as an experienced loader), but learning a bit every time.
It feels good to actually have the boomsticks boom from time to time.
My shooting activities have been next to non-existent since before we sold our old house. I let my range membership lapse (hadn’t been happy since they brought in that mandatory “buddy-system” rule) at the Guelph Rod and Gun Club and had only been out shooting a few times as a guest of others who had range memberships.
You’ll be pleased to know that I am now again a member at a gun club, and am also in the process of learning the ins and outs of reloading.
As a consequence I’ll be selling off a few of my boomsticks to finance the acquisition of a more accurate long gun, and appropriate scopes for both it and my Norinco M14S.
At the moment I’m thinking my VZ-58, Mossberg 500 and the S&W Model 14 on the way out, and a Remington 700 in .308 on the way in, along with some name brand glass.
More on that as items actually disappear from the gun cabinet.
So another Birthday has come and gone, I don’t feel any older, but as my actual birthday was filled with frustration and nonsense I count myself lucky that today I managed to get out to the range and launch small objects at stationary objects for a few hours.
It is my considered opinion that my AR15 is vastly superior to my VZ58, and I’m thinking that after I finish up the last of my Czech 762x39mm I’ll see if I can’t sell the VZ to fund a new project.
Today I visited the “other” gun store in town, it happens to be directly across the street from the building where I’ve been installing surveillance cameras for the last week. Having finally tracked down and resolved an issue with one of the cameras that had been killing us for a few days I took a moment to wander across the street to check out the “10%-20% off Glocks!” sale at the gun store that had been actively engaged in going out of business the last time I stopped in.
Nice. A short stroll around, two guys manning the counter and a fellow getting them to give him prices on a stack of old long guns he had (recognized the standard sportered SMLE and the Cooey .22lr right away, the others were similar vintage – the sort of stuff that commands $25-$75 in the consignment rack).
A goodly selection of rifles behind the counter, a half dozen or so pistols visible under glass at the counter (nothing really noteworthy I saw..a few Glocks and some .22 target pistol). What caught my eye right away however was the collection of ammo crates and carriers, some Czech 763x39mm on clips on shelves behind the counter.
“Got any other surplus ammo?” says I, suddenly conscious again that my big-30′s are completely out of ammo (I have 20 rounds of 762x51mm, 20 rounds of .30-06 and 20 rounds of .303 British), and that my economical standby’s are running low (200 rounds of 556x45mm and maybe 400 rounds of 762x39mm), even the handguns are low (200 rounds 9x19mm, 400 rounds .38 spcl).
I left with 100 rounds of 762x51mm, I could have spent more but time was running out, and those 10-22s were looking a little too tempting.
I’ve never really been any sort of firearms elitist (ok, I’m a little anti-Glock, but that’s really just a side effect of the fanboy non-gunny following – truthfully I just find the grips uncomfortable, and pulling the trigger to disassemble it seems counter-intuitive). I like firearms for their function, their history and their asthetics (I do own some fugly firearms however, the sort that only a mother could love).
More than once I’ve come across gun owners who believed that their firearm of choice was the ultimate in shooty goodness, failing to own one of their chosen firearms was not merely an example of personal bad judgement but an affront to right minded firearms owners everywhere.
This has to make you laugh, even if just a little.
I mean a piece of metal comes out one end really, really fast. Forcing that piece of metal to strike a required point time after time is a function of the reliability and consistency of the firearm, and the skill of the shooter. As far as I’m concerned the best firearm is ALWAYS the one that you are sufficiently proficient with, I’m just assuming you’re not developing proficiency with a lemon.
Yesterday, during the massive snow-dump I decided I would break the Norinco M14 out of the gun cabinet and give it a routine cleaning. This is a perilous exercise while Jilly is awake and moving, as she ALWAYS wants to help Daddy when he cleans guns. I had hoped to give the M14, SMLE and the M1 a going over, but gave up after a semi-complete cleaning of the M14.
Jilly: Daddy clean guns? Me: Yes Jilly, this is a rifle. Can you say Rifle? Jilly: Wy-full. I help you? I fix? Me: Sure sweetie. -anxiously looking around for a non-critical part, ah the stock…I was going to repaint that anyway- Me: You fix the stock for Daddy, ok? Jilly: Ok, I fix this for you. (grabbing the gas cylinder wrench out of my cleaning kit) Me: Uh…ok. -The sound of metal slamming into the Harris bipod echoes through the house for a minute- Me: Jilly, why don’t you help me over here. Jilly: OK! Me: No Jilly, don’t put the trigger group into your mouth. Me: No Jilly, please don’t eat the grease. Me: Jilly, please take the op-rod spring out of your mouth. Me: Jilly, please bring the bolt back here. -rifle re-assembled in seconds- Me: You know what, we’re all done. Thanks sweetheart!
You’d have think I’d have learned by now. Firearms get cleaned early in the morning or late at night. Never, never when our little munchkin is running around the house.