meme

Behind on blog reading, let alone writing, I recently chanced across Steve Bodio's contribution to a recent meme, that of "5 dream guns".

I suppose I'm just not very dreamy with respect to guns right now. Most of what I list, I own. This comes not from years of searching, trying different arms, or collecting, but in part by chance and in part by selection. Guns that I don't have would mostly be for niches in my battery that are currently full, and might not be improvements. That said, here are five choices for five very broad categories of useful firearm (for I'm interpreting the meme as Steve does, five dream guns that would be the only five you've got)- big game rifle (North American, that is); rimfire rifle; rimfire pistol; shotgun, and centerfire pistol.

As to the first, a rifle for deer, elk, etc., I have previously gone over my current primary hunting rifle and the genesis to its current configuration. I wouldn't categorize it as quite a dream gun, but I would have a hard time configuring something more precisely to my tastes. To my mind, for class, you can't do better than a pre-64 or "Classic" Winchester Model 70 action (although a classic Mauser 98 action is close), and I'd barrel it to 22 inches, put on a fixed 4 power scope, and for elk have it chambered in 35 Whelen, a cartridge of no little romance (or elk dropping ability). A nice piece of walnut would round out the package. That said, the trigger on the Model 70 would probably require some work or a replacement by Canjar or Timney, stainless or some sort of high tech coating would provide some more weather protection, and a laminate or composite stock would help prevent zeros from drifting. Then, too, 35 Whelen wouldn't be anyone's first choice for pronghorn and is even more over-gunned for whitetails than 30'06, which is no less classic than the Whelen cartridge (which derives from it) and loses romance only through ubiquity. Suddenly, I'm carrying something that looks very much like the rifle in the safe right now- an all-weather rifle, not nearly "classic" in detail, that is reliable and comfortable and has a good trigger. Hunh.

As to the next, a rimfire rifle, I've been carrying and shooting a Remington 541-S for over thirty years now. This rifle started off with a 10 power target scope on it and fired thousands of rounds in smallbore rifle silhouette competition and practice.



The competition explains the sticker on the forend- it is from an old match and indicated that the rifle had been inspected and met the requirements for competition. There are more on the other side of the rifle. Now, this is not the perfect rimfire sporter. The plastic faux-burl forend tip is ugly and the magazine and magazine release protruding below the stock isn't ideal. However, it has a very good trigger that breaks at twelve ounces and will hold an inch at 100 meters with Eley Tenex and not much more than that with some other ammunition. Remington cleaned up the aesthetics with their short-lived Model 504 and you can get a prettier rifle that is as accurate from Cooper, or a prettier (and in my experience, frequently troublesome) Kimber, but, practically speaking, you'd be hard pressed to find a better small game rifle than this one, particularly topped as it is now with Leopold's most excellent 2x7 rimfire scope. I suppose a Cooper would be the dream gun, but given the many rounds I've put downrange with this rifle, I'm not sure I'd exchange it for one.

Nearly as handy as a rimfire rifle is a rimfire pistol. I've got a couple (few) but for me the dream pistol is a Hi-Standard "Field King". A relatively rare model, the Field King had adjustable sights and a "medium weight" barrel as opposed to the much more common "Sport King" which was made with a lightweight barrel and fixed sights. My father carried one while hunting or in the truck for years and shot a fair bit of outdoor pistol with it. A few years ago, I came across a Field King with a 6 inch barrel at a gun show. The pistol was in very good condition, except that the Davis rear sight was bent, likely from someone dropping the pistol. The guy selling didn't want very much for the pistol and came down from that based upon the bent sight, which was easily taken care of by an order from Numrich.



It was made between 1950 and 1953. I haven't found a proper 4 1/2 inch barrel for this pistol, the pictured additional barrel comes from an Olympic model (which can be told by the rib on the barrel and a slot for weights on the bottom of the barrel). Nonetheless, both barrels work fine and, while a bit heavy in the holster compared to my S&W 422 or my S&W 317, it is easier to shoot and has a much better trigger than either of them. If I ever get around to shooting .22 pistol competitively again, I'll slip in the 6 inch barrel and be ready to go. Meanwhile, after over 50 years of sitting around (apart from being dropped that once), this pistol is getting carried and used.



For shotguns, if it comes down to one, I wouldn't make much different a choice than the Browning Citori I received as a graduation present from my folks. I fell in love with over/unders after being loaned a Zoli 20 gauge to shoot doves when my single shot Winchester Model 37 broke and, at the time I got it, the Citori was one of very few reasonably priced over/unders available new and the only one you could get with interchangeable choke tubes. With 26" barrels, it weighs a substantial 8 pounds, so it isn't quite a quail wand.



Further, it is made in Japan and, while the wood is nice, the glossy synthetic finish doesn't show it well. On the other hand, the gun shoots well for me and has shot everything from quail to cranes to turkeys. 3" chambers and choke tubes mean I can shoot steel shot at ducks and geese through fairly open chokes or switch out for full tubes and shoot turkeys (after wrapping the gun in camo). With those heavy loads, I appreciate every ounce of the weight. At the same time, the short barrels are quick to swing when it comes to quail or doves. All things considered, I'd rather have double triggers, a round-knob pistol grip and the "Lightning" model forarm, but as with the .22 rifle, I'm not sure I'd switch out at this point.

Now, I admire quite a few classic shotguns and for a while considered getting a side by side. I came across a somewhat beat up L.C. Smith Field Grade a few years ago and have shot it some since. This gun has a replacement butt stock and someone polished the sideplates, removing any traces of case coloring (and doubtless some rust), so it is very strictly a shooter. Apart from that, it has extractors, 30 inch barrels choked light improved and (very) full and weighs just under seven pounds. From the serial number, it was built in 1913.



It also shoots very well for me. All in all, if it were a dream gun, the 3 position safety would be only two position, the butt stock would sport a half pistol grip and match the forend, and it would be perhaps an Ideal grade, as I admire the engraving on those. For that matter, it could be a hinge-pin Fox Sterlingworth or a New Ithaca Double, or one of a whole host of British or European doubles with similar features and I'd be as happy or happier. As it is, though, if down to one gun, some small variant on the Citori up above is more versatile.

Which brings us, finally, to a centerfire pistol. I have to say, I have no such dream gun. I'll likely always have such a pistol around. I admire some of the old Smith & Wessons and, a few years ago, passed up buying a Lightweight Colt Commander in 9 mm that would have made a great concealed carry piece, but I can't really categorize any of those weapons as "dream". Centerfire pistols, to me, are protection pieces and an inexpensive yet reliable truck gun, or an accurate and well set up target pistol are each great things, I don't really have one or the other that gets me excited. Guess I'll just have to dream shotguns or rimfires while keeping a good enough pistol or revolver in the nightstand.

New best friend

My new best friend is this stuff. Self-fusing silicone repair tape. The why is a somewhat long story.

See, A's house has been landscaped, at least in front, with way too much "xeric dirt" and we set out to change that. At one time, long, long ago, the front yard had a sprinkler system. In keeping with the lower water use that we in the Southwest should all be practicing, I set out to put in a drip irrigation system for various soon-to-be-installed native and low-water-use shrubs. Digging out the four sprinkler on/off valves, I found a 2 or 3 inch galvanized line coming in and a tangled mass of corroded galvanized 1 inch pipe going out.



Too much for my (lack of) skills. We talked to a plumber who agreed that, yeah, the big line coming in probably tied into the main line into the house and he could tie to that with a backflow prevention device and a pressure reducer. Now, with the summer rains coming, we set out to get the new stuff in the ground during the cooler, wetter time so that it'd have a chance to get established for the winter and a good start next spring.

We plotted out and dug trenches for the irrigation lines, bought risers, manifolds, emitters and pvc and put the whole thing together. This past Friday, that was all taken care of and we were ready for a plumber to tie into the old stuff and we'd be off planting and other fun stuff. The original guy who'd looked at it wasn't available, though, so we talked to another outfit. They took one look at the original pipe and said that no, they couldn't fasten to that and they'd recommend replacing the main line from the house to the meter.



They further opined that, while we could get someone to try to fasten to the old stuff, and we might get lucky that doing so would not engender any leaks, we'd be living on borrowed time. So far as we know, the original line is nearly seventy years old or so.

The quoted price was about our original budget for the project but, we talked it over and then got to digging out a deeper trench to get the water line to the house, including digging out everything up to the meter including under the sidewalk. That was Saturday, plumbers due this morning.



After much patient digging to get to the meter, ginger excavation premised upon the truly rotten condition of the water line, I managed to whack that pipe with a shovel about two p.m. on Saturday afternoon (Not that hard! Really! It was a tap!). Water began blasting out across the yard, I began cursing and sprinting for the key to turn off the water at the meter. Geyser subdued, it was off to the local hardware store. I was thinking of a couple of big pipe clamps and some thick-ish rubber sheeting but the guy at the store recommended trying a ten-dollar roll of "Rescue Tape". Self-fusing silicone wonder tape in hand, I returned home and cleaned some of the scale (not too much, it's about all that's holding things together) off the pipe and laid in a couple of layers of tape. It's funky stuff. You stretch it to activate it so that it'll stick and it gets hot as you do so (and smells funny- I don't really want to think about what those chemicals might do). The harder you stretch it, the faster and tighter it fuses. One hard part is just stretching the section you're trying to lay down- stretch further up the roll, it'll fold onto itself and immediately become permanently useless (of course, I'm doing all this two feet down in dirt and mud, so nice even wraps are a bit of a challenge). Two courses of tape did not stop the leak and blew out. Approximately five courses of tape, the whole roll, did. Dry as a bone-40 psi nicely contained. Ten dollars. No call to an emergency plumber. A shower that evening. Water in the dog's bowl. I love that stuff.



A roll is going in the truck, another in the house, and one might even get into my daypack.

revolver

Here recently Steve Bodio put up a couple of posts about revolvers over on Querencia and I thought I'd throw up something on the subject as well. Revolvers, like pump shotguns, are something mostly and, bestly, American. The Webley aside, most other-than-American revolver designs are more curiosities than commercial or military successes (bet there's a comment from someone about the Nagant). From the U.S., though, there are the entire series of Colt single actions, culminating with the Single Action Army, the Smith & Wesson top-break revolvers, the Smith and Wesson Military and Police in all it's various guises (one hundred and twelve years of production and counting!), and then there's this gun:



This particular revolver is a Colt "New Service" manufactured in 1934 and chambered for the .38 Special cartridge. The New Service model was the largest-framed double action revolver built by Colt and was introduced in 1897. By the time production ceased during World War II, three hundred and fifty-some thousand revolvers had come off the production line. The reason for the large frame is that it was originally designed to accommodate the .45 Long Colt cartridge. Thousands of New Service revolvers were sold to law enforcement agencies in the United States and abroad, as well as to the U.S. military. Also, a substantial number were chambered in .455 Eley (a slightly longer version of the famous .455 Webley cartridge) and purchased by Great Britain as military sidearms.

The revolver is fitted with a Fray-Mershon "Sure Grip" adapter and, as you can see, has lots of holster wear and wear in general- not surprising for a working pistol carried on a regular basis. The grip adapter is designed to fill in the stocks a bit and improve double action shooting.





My father started with the Border Patrol in the early 60's and, interestingly enough, was first issued a .38 Special Colt New Service, albeit one fitted with a heavy barrel, rather than the tapered barrel of this pistol. Dad recalls the Colts as having a remarkably good trigger, which is high praise considering he carried and shot thousands of rounds through a Smith and Wesson Model 19 in the course of his later career. You can read a short article about the New Service revolver in the Border Patrol here.



One of the attractions of firearms for those of us who enjoy guns is their durability and history. Some of the more useful and durable designs were produced for decades and used around the world. Any given gun can be beaten into junk, but a lot of worn old pistols, rifles, and shotguns have years of use behind them and, if cared for a bit, left in them still. While worn finishes, nicks, and scars aren't necessarily sought after features, the stories that attach to the dings render them less marring.

So, what makes this old gun special? No particular romance is associated with it and it would be nothing special to a collector, as those folks mostly look for pristine condition. On the other hand, there is this provenance- the pistol spent a career in the U.S. Customs Service, belonging to a family friend who, at one point, was the District Director of Customs for the Port of San Diego. The original owner has long passed so any particular stories attaching to the gun are unavailable. The pictures, though, tell of thousands of hours of carry and likely hundreds if not thousands of shots fired at the range. So, this old pistol has a family connection and over seventy-five years of use- it's good for another seventy five, or longer, too.

Goldilocks rifle

A few years ago, dissatisfied with the rifle I carried for big game hunting, I purchased a brand new Savage Model 116, which is that company's long-action, bolt action, rifle made in stainless steel. One of the reasons I chose the Savage was that it came with the company's then new "Accutrigger", which features a center blade on the trigger that must be depressed in order to then press the trigger and fire the rifle. The Accutrigger was a big step in triggers available from factory rifles, as is not only adjustable, but is free of creep and breaks (that is, releases) very crisply. At the time, it was the best factory trigger available and it may still be. Another factor leading me to this particular model of rifle was the rust-resistance of stainless steel. In addition, it came with a synthetic stock, which does not cause changes to point of impact the way wooden stocks can as they minutely warp or flex due to heat or humidity. The actual rifle that I bought came as a package with a scope and nylon sling. The package was less expensive than just a bare rifle, though in the end all that remains of the package is the barreled action, one scope base, and the sling swivels.

The first season, I carried the rifle as-sold. Lucked into an elk, too. Before the next season, though, I got rid of the nylon sling and replaced it with a good leather Whelen sling. The Whelen sling is a simplified and somewhat lighter version of the military slings used for highpower rifle competition. Not only does it work as a carry strap, but you adjust the upper section to form a standing loop that you can slide on your upper arm in order to steady the rifle from a sitting, kneeling, or prone position. This is much more steady than a "hasty sling" and, if you have some time to set up your shot, will really help accuracy. The Whelen sling isn't as stiff as one of the aformentioned military slings and is a bit less complicated, made of less material and with fewer parts.

The second change to the rifle I made was to replace the inexpensive variable-power scope that came on it with a Leopold fixed four power model. The shorter Leopold scope required an extended front base, which intrudes a bit over the top of the action. This isn't ideal, but isn't really a problem. I was surprised to have to do it, though, given that the scope pretty far forward as I tend to crawl the stock a bit, particularly when shooting sitting. In any event, the fixed scope is brighter, more sturdy, and more simple than a variable.



In that guise, I carried the Savage for another couple of years and another elk. At some point, I replaced the factory recoil pad, which was a bit hard, with one of the Pachmayr "Decelerator" models. Even then, I could not warm up to the plastic stock. For one thing, when you shot the rifle the stock made a sort of harmonic "sproing!" note, which is just a bit odd. More importantly, the fore end is too flattened on the bottom and the corners of it are a bit too sharp, making it fairly uncomfortable to carry over the course of a day. To me, the plastic felt a bit cold. Further, the mold lines running down the top and bottom of the stock were also surprisingly annoying until I took some fine sandpaper and smoothed them down. Last, the stock is noisy when a branch or twig hits it. This is surely a minor thing, but still hunting is partly about confidence and minimizing every sound you can control. The extra noise from any source is hard on my confidence and, who knows, might make a difference.

Not being willing to finish my own stock and wanting to maintain the stability of a synthetic, I got a laminate wood "drop in" stock from Boyd's. Because laminate stocks are essentially plywood- thin layers of wood held together by glue, they don't warp or move with weather. While not nearly as pretty as a nice piece of walnut, laminates look better than plastic, to my eye, and are quieter, too. On the other hand they are heavier than most synthetics and natural wood, all that glue adding weight.

Unfortunately, "drop in" wasn't quite drop-in and I had to do a little work to get the action and barrel into the stock. Also, the Boyd's stock didn't have bedding pillars like the factory stock. The pillars are tubes of aluminum or steel that fit around the action screws (which hold the rifle in the stock) and which relieve stress on the action and generally improve accuracy. Off the rifle went to the gunsmith for pillar bedding (and to replace the thin pad on the Boyd's stock with another Pachmayr Decelerator. Once done, the Boyd's classic style stock, while not entirely classic in lines or materials, is much more comfortable to carry and shoot than the original stock.

In all, the Savage started out as a pretty light, fairly accurate stainless steel rifle with a good trigger. Now, all up, it weighs 8 pounds, 12 ounces, which isn't too bad, to my mind. It balances right about the middle of the action and, with that weight, the 30-'06 cartridge doesn't beat you around with recoil. I've spent about the price of the rifle on the new scope, stock, sling, recoil pad, and work, but the result is getting much closer to a rifle that, for me, is "just right".

What's in your pack?

What do you all carry for a day pack, if you do, when chasing elk or deer?

I'll go first (and here provide the disclaimer that, while this post has links to various companies selling bits of gear, that's just for illustration purposes- those products linked are things I've bought that work well for me- this is not meant to be a commercial):




This pack is an Eberlestock J105, designed to be a fairly low-profile day pack which can expand to carry out an elk quarter. I'm a big fan of the idea of saving a whole round trip from kill to truck.

Cinched down for hunting:



Then opened up:



Near or far, uphill or down, I'd rather make that first trip with a load on my back. On the other hand, you don't want something too cumbersome or that's noisy at all during the times that you're stalking. Nowadays there are a number of packs out there designed to carry fairly small going in and pack a load coming out.

For years I carried a Nimrod lumbar pack (an early version of their Pinnacle model)that had a pack sack that you could unroll, fasten to the shoulder harness, and then use to carry out a quarter. I adopted the Nimrod a bit too early, later models have some improvements that would make it more comfortable and functional. The biggest problems with the Nimrod are that it has a pretty limited capacity when the pack sack is rolled and stowed, the padding on the shoulder straps is too soft, letting them collapse and get uncomfortable, and, more importantly, under a load the hipbelt rolls and fails to provide adequate support. I think the hipbelt has been fixed in current models by the addition of vertical stays. The Nimrod is fairly light and doesn't get much in the way when going through brush, both of which are very nice. While it does provide a way out with the first quarter of an elk, you only want to carry a front quarter, with maybe the backstraps, as the model I have puts some pretty good hurt on you when it is loaded up. Later ones might be better.

As for the Eberlestock, I'm still making up my mind about it. For the cons, first off I'm not fond of wearing a daypack all the time, as, even cinched down, it hangs up more then a lumbar pack when going through brush or ducking under limbs in the p-j. Also, the darned thing is heavy (9.5 pounds empty!)- the inevitable price of a really sturdy structure and heavy duty fabric, as well as a wealth of pockets. For the pluses, it is quite comfortable, carries a hind quarter comfortably (I've packed out five elk quarters, four of them hindquarters, and an oryx hindquarter along with the backstraps and head all in one go, with this pack at this point- no really hard carries yet, though) and those pockets do allow you to stash gear you seldom access well out of the way and not have to dig through it. Also, two large pockets are on the outside of the pack and compression straps once the main compartment is unzipped and loaded, which keeps the bits of gear out there from getting crushed, much.

In the photos up above, you'll see a rectangular opening at the top of the pack- that's a rifle scabbard that lays along the back stays.



I've used it when packing meat a couple of times, but generally I feel more comfortable carrying my rifle in hand with a load. It was handy walking out in the predawn dark on a muzzleloader hunt, as the un-capped rifle fit all the way down to the lock and I had both hands available for stumbling. As to the gear in the pack, first off alongside the rifle scabbard but opening from the other side of the pack and also right up against the internal frame are two pockets, the upper with a hydration port for a water bladder and tube. I don't use a tube hunting- one more thing to hang on brush- but the pocket does locate a water bottle nicely high and right up against you:



Growing up, we never carried water or packs, just threw a couple of candy bars in our pockets, along with maybe an apple. Of course, waffle-weave cotton longhandles and Levis, along with cotton t-shirts and cotton flannel or wool shirts were also what we wore. As I got older and started staying out a bit longer and ranging farther, I started carrying a bota bottle. Now I use a Platypus water bottle. The advantage of a soft bottle like this is not only that you can tuck it out of the way in a corner of the pack, but that you can squeeze the excess air out of it as you drink so your water doesn't gurgle or slosh, making your stalk the much quieter.



In the little pocket below the water bottle pocket I stash my first aid kit and two lights- the first a little headlamp that burns a long time on three AAA batteries, the second a little halogen flashlight that runs through batteries very quickly but that casts a bright beam quite a ways. The little first aid kit is augmented by a couple of WMI's handy little cut kits, which have what you need to take care of a gashed finger or hand in a little envelope, and extra moleskin. Cutting myself while field dressing or developing a blister are by far the most likely injuries in my experience. I also have a couple of feet of (orange) Velcro tape in that pocket, as it is really handy for holding things together or tightening things up.

Eberlestock put two long pockets on either side of the pack that open from the top or the sides. A spotting scope or tripod fits pretty easily. Not carrying either of those very often, I don't get a whole lot of use from the pockets but stash a ditty bag in each side with things I don't get into very often. Note that the pockets have a light colored lining, another nice touch.



One bag is stuff for handling a carcass.



A number of pieces of parachute cord or thin rope are really handy when dressing an animal out by yourself. Not only is it useful to tie legs off out of the way, but three times I've had to tie off a carcass I was field dressing to keep it from rolling or sliding down the hill I was working on. Also, at least three fairly long pieces are handy for hanging quarters that you are going to come back for. That's also what the game bags are for, one bag can stretch over two elk quarters and will keep off dirt and flies while you carry the first load out. I may have a bit more cordage than I need, but I can't recall ever thinking "Gee, what am I going to do with all this rope?" whereas I've wished for another foot or two of line on more than one occasion. The little ziplock has two of the big, 2.5 gallon ziplocks and a couple of 1 gallon ziplocks folded up in it, all for carrying and keeping clean heart, liver, tenderloins, and other bits of meat. I carry a pair of nitrile gloves or the long plastic "field dressing gloves", not so much out of worry about blood-borne disease as for ease of clean up. Once your hands get gory, you bloody everything you touch and even wet-wipes aren't great at getting the blood off. The Wyoming saw isn't absolutely necessary, as you can dress an elk without one, but it makes the job easier and, if you kill a bull elk, it is far lighter to carry out antlers on a skull plate as opposed to the whole head. Another option is to leave the saw in the truck and bring it to the carcass after the first load of meat is out. The marking tape (usually two rolls) is for finding my way back to the carcass. I don't mark right up to my elk, as I don't want anyone walking away with one of my quarters.




In the other side pocket lives a bag containing a very basic "stuck overnight kit".



Metal cup for heating water, very light nylon bucket for holding water, two ways of making fire, firestarter paste, film canister filled with cotton balls soaked in vaseline, candle (also a form of firestarter), emergency blanket (2), dry socks (not pictured), Cyalume stick for a nighttime signal and a whistle for a daytime signal. As you can see, I'm pretty concerned with fire starting. That's because if I'm cold and wet on a cold and wet night, my fire starting skills aren't going to be at their best and dry wood hard to come by. If it's dry and pretty weather, a fire won't be nearly as big a concern and I'll just need one of those matches ;)



Also in that pocket lives a little Otis gun cleaning kit. It has a nylon covered metal cable that can work as a ramrod and the whole kit weighs four ounces. If you jam the muzzle of your rifle in snow or mud, you'll really want a ramrod for cleaning that bore. It's a seldom-used item but a nice bit of insurance.




In the top pocket of the pack, which you access from the harness side, I carry the myriad little things I might want to access at any time. Scope cover (which I seldom use and may go away), ultralight tripod (camera is usually in my pocket), bandanna (dressed in synthetics and wool, a piece of absorbent cotton can be really handy), some energy in the form of chocolate and power bars, compass, (maps, too, if I'm carrying any of that area), spare rifle cartridges, spare .22 cartridges if I've got a pistol with me for small game, short piece of cord for carrying such small game, spare knife (very light), bit of duct tape, toilet paper, wet wipes, fleece beanie, and gloves. A neat trick is the fact that thirty .22 long rifle cartridges will fit in a film canister and not rattle.



One item of clothing I always carry is raingear, usually stuffed down in the main compartment of the pack. Some of the breathable raingear is really nice- quiet yet still waterproof- and forms the layer I'm most likely to be pulling on and off as weather changes, as well as the most important wind-breaking and water-shedding layer should the weather go bad. Most of the time I'll also wear or carry a fleece pullover.

This is more gear and pack than I really want to lug, but so far I'm willing to pay the weight penalty. All-up, this weighs seventeen pounds with a full (1 liter) water bottle and a .22 pistol on the hipbelt. The gear is intended for a long day hunting by myself- out before daylight and back in the evening, with the off chance of having to spend the night out or having a problem a couple of miles from a road in rough country.

So, what's in your day pack?

classics

Lots of food on the blog lately, but not much in the way of outdoors or gear. Hmmm. Let's talk guns.

I believe a large part of the fascination for those of us who like guns is that they represent interesting and, frequently, very well made pieces of machinery. Ergonomics have been a concern of gunmakers from the very beginning and the tension between creating a weapon that can be easily handled and aimed and a mechanism which is strong, easy, and fast to use resulted in all kinds of interesting designs.

One of the thread of those designs is the pump or slide action shotgun.* Any article about pump shotguns will nearly invariably talk about how they're an American invention and mention market hunting and perhaps farm equipment, which they are said to invoke. I don't know about farm equipment; however, pump shotguns, particularly the older ones from when the designs were being ironed out, are fascinatingly mechanical. Whereas a double gun is (ideally) sleek and self contained, a lot is going on with a pump as the action works- bolt flying back and forth, shell popping out of the magazine tube and lifted- clicks and clacks and metal sliding on metal (all of which Hollywood uses most inappropriately).

Here's a good example (and bad photos) of the sort of old pump shotgun I'm thinking about:



30 inch barrel, full choke (before it was opened) lots of drop on the stock, complex milling of a steel billet to turn out that rather baroque receiver- check out all the angles:



square lug on the bolt fits into a cut on the top of the receiver:




a Stevens Model 525, built from a Browning design



This is the first variation of the design (sliding inertial release on the slide lock) and was probably made in the first decade or so of the twentieth century. It has been refinished, so it doesn't have any collector's value. However, it works just fine.

If a person chose to create a "collection" it'd be a fun project to take $1,000 and see how many different pre-war (WWII) pumpguns in decent shape he could get for that money. Of course, "decent shape" is unlikely to be anywhere near mint condition, since working guns they generally survive pretty battered. Lots of shotguns from that era. I'd pick up a Winchester Model 12 in 16 gauge (they sized the frames for each gauge). Then there are three Remington pumps: the Model 10, the Model 31 "The ball bearing repeater", and the Remington Model 17 (another John Browning design made only in 20 gauge that, with modifications, became the Ithaca 37). The Ithaca 37 is still, after some hiccups, in production today and early models are easy to find. Less common are the Marlin Models 17, 30, 31 and 43. In addition to the Winchester Models 93 and 97 (each begun in the 19th Century and correspondingly more expensive) I'm sure there are half a dozen others I haven't mentioned as well. While none of this collection would appreciate much as an investment, likely every single one could be pressed into service.

I'm not curmudgeon enough to claim old is necessarily better. Nonetheless, while few will call a pumpgun graceful, slender, corncob forearms and nice bluing create an attractive package to my eye and, with the exception of the current production Ithaca 37s they're not making anything like those old repeaters these days (geez, looking at "the best new shotguns for 2009" at the link all I can think is "not for me").

*That Wikipedia article linked here is wrong in one respect. John Browning did not invent the slide action shotgun, Christopher Spencer did. His shotgun came out in 1882, a decade before the Winchester Model 93, designed by Browning, was produced.

quote

"...I've found that if you have a certain kind of inner peace (and no kids) you can buy things you want but can't afford and feel okay about it."

John Gierach "Another Lousy Day in Paradise"

Leaky Waders

Anyone who has spent much time fishing or hunting in waders probably has a few leaky wader stories. Heck, John Gierach even got a book title out of the subject, one which lets you know the joy of the experience.

For a long time I didn't really use waders. No waterfowling and fishing meant either a boat or wet-wading small streams. Once you get into the creek, your feet go numb and you can't really tell all the violence being done to your toes by bashing around the rocks in the stream bottom (old tennis shoes are the preferred footwear for this) and to your shins by sharp rocks and sticks. Older if not wiser, and also fishing some larger streams more often, I've now worked my way through a few pair of waders and hip boots.

Sometimes it is a little hard to determine whether you have a leak for the first bit of time. With older style rubber waders you might be too cold to tell for sure that you were getting wet, at least until you could feel the water sloshing around in one of the boots. Nowadays, neoprene waders breathe so little and allow so little air exchange that condensation is always a factor. If the weather is warm at all or if you do any work out of the water but in your waders, you'll be well dampened with sweat. Sometimes it's bad enough that you wonder whether you're getting any water-proofness at all from the waders or just insulation. Sniff a sock to determine whether you're dealing with sweat or river water.

The first pair of neoprenes I had, I ran a hole through the leg on one of the evil little willow pungi sticks beavers tend to leave stream side. The darned rodents tend to bite off pencil to fishing rod diameter willows in one or two cuts, on the bias, at six to fourteen inches off the ground. The flexible, sharpened stake that results is one of my least favorite things about beavers. The vertical holes they sometimes dig in riverbanks is another less favorite thing, but that's another subject. In any event, those neoprenes were a lot more fragile and I was pretty surprised when the stob slid right into them. Worse, I was winter fishing in the Rio Grande Gorge and got the hole on the far side of the river from my truck. Wading across twenty yards of icy river is a lot harder when you KNOW you're going to have a cold wet foot by the time you reach the far bank. In any event, once patched those waders gave good service and demonstrated to me the value of neoprene for winter fishing and hunting.

Hip boots seem less likely to spring leaks, but get you wet by inspiring untoward optimism. No matter how small the stream, I always seem to find a hole or crossing that is just an inch deeper than my hip boots are tall. A corollary is that ducks on stock ponds always fall dead just a little deeper than your hip boots. In an experience contrary to the latter observation, a few years ago I was visiting Texas for Christmas and hunting ducks in flooded brush. I borrowed a pair of hip boots from my dad ("No, really, son, I've got a spare and there's no need for you to lug all that down here") and we had a great time, apart from the fact that the rubber was disintegrating on the hippers I was wearing and, by the end of the day, they were mostly useful for holding water in as you tried to wade out. Fortunately, the water and air temps were fairly warm. Two days later, for Christmas, I got a new pair of hip boots. Dad figured letting me hunt wet was worth not spoiling the surprise.

This year marks the first season for a new pair of 5mm neoprene waders, just the thing for chilly duck hunting mornings and winter fishing. It's only recently that I've started to use them, as it hasn't been that cold most of this season. Despite being new, the first bit of deeper water I went across led to that creeping, chilly feeling.

I hate leaky waders:



it's going to be a bugger trying to patch that leak.

Sans pictures

One of the things that I enjoy about knocking around the woods, water, or desert is that if you pay close attention or spend enough time, you'll almost always see something new. A corollary to that truism is that if you don't have the camera along, more remarkable sights will present themselves.

Yesterday, we headed up a very nearby mountain for a bit of a hike at altitude and to give the dog a chance to splash in the little creek. Since the plan was for no more than a short duration hike, an hour or two, in an area which sees a lot of traffic, on a weekend, I didn't pack much in the way of gear. I almost didn't bring my daypack and I didn't load a lot of the little things that regularly ride in there- parachute cord, a bit of duct tape, the headlamp, matches, firestarter, etc.. Instead, I threw in a couple of water bottles, a fleece sweater, a rain jacket and a first aid kit. Some of that was just for weight.

During the walk I was frustrated in that I also forgot to throw in the little digital camera that makes almost all my outdoor trips now. Several new-to-me wildflowers begged identification (and I had left the flower guide at home, too) and some of the views were really nice and would have provided blog-fodder. Later, I was to regret leaving the camera a bit more, as I lost the chance at some photos from a rescue.

We were driving back down the canyon and passed a nearby village's Volunteer Fire Department's ambulance in a turn out by a trail head. They were pulling out gear and assembling a wheel under a Stokes litter. There were only four people at the ambulance and they looked to be in a bit of a hurry. I mentioned to A that we ought to see if everything was ok, so we stopped. In response to "You all need any help?" the answer was "Probably." I was a bit surprised.

Turns out, they were just responding to a call about a fellow who had suffered a myocardial event some distance up the trail. Hot day, high altitude, and some steep slopes can be a tough combination, I'm sure.

I dumped the little bit of stuff out of my day pack and we grabbed ends of the litter and started down the trail with it. Concerned for the patient, a couple of the EMTs took a defibrillator, some iv packs, and bit of other gear and went on up to his location. A, one of the volunteer firefighters and I hauled the litter well in their wake, pausing as terrain and breath required to drink water and rest a bit. Shortly, we were passed by a paramedic and then joined by another volunteer fireman, then a local search & rescue volunteer. The last pitch up to the rim the patient was located just under was quite steep (really glad he wasn't on top of the rim), but more hands made a difference and soon we were there. Just after that, a Forest Service law enforcement officer arrived and then another search & rescue volunteer. We retreated a bit down the hill to stay out of the way and then helped the FS officer move some brush and downed limbs to clear out an area they were considering for use as a lift-off spot as an alternative to hauling the litter and patient down that steep stretch to get to an open flat where the in-bound helicopter could land.

By the time we were done with that, others had the patient on the litter and moved him the few yards to that gap in the trees and the search & rescue folks were really starting to come in (one of them turned out to be a guy I've chatted with at the last few RMEF banquets, always surprising where you run into folks). The person coordinating the rescue and the helicopter pilot made the call to winch the patient to the aircraft from that gap, perhaps out of concern with the lack of lift due to the low humidity, warm air, lack of breeze, and altitude as well as to avoid moving him further than necessary in the litter. Since more bodies were not going to be needed to handle the litter all the way back down the trail, the volunteer fire department leader decided to clear some unnecessary gear and people from the area so we grabbed some of the equipment he indicated and headed back out. On the way out we passed a couple more Forest Service folks inbound, chainsaw and Pulaski in hand and on their way to clear the pick-up area a bit more, perhaps to remove a couple of standing dead trees.

A mile or so on, we could look back and see the National Guard Blackhawk helicopter hover, drop gear, drop a crewman, then circle, only to come back a few minutes later to pick up the patient and crew member. At the trailhead, more volunteers, a communications trailer, and the state police were on hand. Our bit done, we gave the fire department their bags of gear and drove on down the hill to a late dinner.

The whole experience was pretty thought provoking. First, a mile-and-a-half can be a terribly long way under the wrong circumstances. Hauling that gentleman out on the litter would have been really wearing and pretty darned slow, likely finishing close to dark. This even though most of the trail is what I would have considered a good one (the tread was 1.5 feet wide and well beaten) with quite a bit of maintenance done on it and only two blowdowns. It would have been slow and hard on the patient even given that a bunch of those search and rescue folks looked pretty gnarly and in-shape. Not that in-shape, I was blowing from pulling half the litter with only forty pounds or so of gear on it.

Second, my daypack goes with me always, now. I was feeling silly taking it on what was more a walk than a "hike" to my mind, but I was really glad I had it- to loan to one of the EMTs to put medical equipment in so they could scoot up the trail to the patient and then to carry out a bunch of rope (which fortunately wasn't needed) webbing, defibrillator and other gear back out. For that matter, a little bag is going to live in my daypack and that bag is going to have some basic stuff- p-cord, marking tape, headlamp, duct tape, and some other odds and ends. I carry all that stuff in my hunting pack, but I don't want to shuffle stuff around and leave some out. I'd rather have it always to hand. We were just talking about first aid kits and I realized I need to go through, replenish, and replace some expired meds in a couple of mine. Now I have a bit more incentive.

Third (and somewhat counter to the first point) it is pretty amazing to me that within an hour or two of a call, emergency help and trained medical aid was on hand for the patient. While the location was a long way from wilderness, it also wasn't a street corner and the guy was being treated in very little time and was on a helicopter to the hospital in just a couple of hours. Search & rescue volunteers were really pouring in, too. Cell phones and GPS systems are making the world smaller in some interesting ways.

Last- yeah, the camera goes with me, so I can ID flowers and hopefully take a bit of video of the next time a Guard pilot holds his helicopter rock-steady over a ridge while winching someone aboard.

"New Mexico is mellow, people there they treat you fine"-Townes Van Zandt, "White Freightliner Blues".

Gun thoughts

Caveat- to any non-gun non-shooting readers (and there might be one or two out of the dozen regulars here) this post is a bit dense on jargon. Apologies, but the hour is getting late and Google is your friend. I might revise at some future time. For now, the muse is fleeting and I've recently been in a dry spell, writing-for-fun wise, so this is going up without much in the way of links or explanations (or, likely, coherence- here I am on my second parenthetical in the first paragraph, always a bad sign).

I've mentioned before that I'm a bit of a gear head. I get a kick out of a nice piece of equipment- something well designed that makes a job easier or accomplishes it's task well. One example would be the Princeton Tec Aurora headlamp- 3 little Triple A batteries provide sixty hours or so of light, it weighs a couple of ounces, is waterproof, and can stand more than a bit of bashing around. You can wear it over a cap and it stashes easily in a pocket- useful light for a week of nights and $20 brand new. Of course, to find the perfect piece of gear sometimes you have to purchase and try out a replacement for the device you are currently using, just to see if the new one might work better.

Gear wise, gun culture is an interesting milieu. I got started in target shooting, where there is a definite tendency to play equipment games. Sometimes, the benefit is psychological. If you really believe that the new Anschutz rifle, Perazzi shotgun, or Hart barrel is going to make you shoot better, you probably will. At some point, shooting competitively is as much a mental game as a physical. You might develop the reflexes and muscle memory, and be blessed with the ability to hold steady or swing smooth, but you have to maintain concentration and pay attention to tiny little details to get the scores that'll win. Confidence that a certain piece of equipment will contribute to success frequently leads to success. On the other hand, there are the shooters who continually seek technological solutions to a human problem.

Talking to hunters and reading hunting boards, there are a lot of guys who get into equipment as well, I feel they do it as a sort of proxy for time afield. They have lots of rifles, refining concepts or striving to find the perfect piece for a given purpose. A little better cartridge, something a bit easier to carry or smoother swinging, they keep at it. They can end up with lots of guns, many of which don't get fired much.

In contrast, hook and bullet writers all seem to have a story about some guy they knew back in the day that had a MkIII Enfield or sporterized Krag or the like that they bought a box of shells for and then killed ten deer over the next ten years, annually burning one round to make sure the sights were on and one to kill the deer. I've never met that guy. Apart from the necessity of practice to maintain skill, the concept has a certain attraction.

In that vein, reasonably, all a North American hunter really needs is a good .22 bolt action rifle, a good big game rifle, a waterfowl shotgun, an upland shotgun, and a .22 pistol. Pretty much everybody ought to have a pistol for self defense as well, but there you are, the adequate six-gun arsenal. No fun at all.

I look to the example of my father. My dad is pretty practical. Not ruthlessly so, but pretty practical. Back when metallic silhouette shooting was getting started along the border, he, being a decent shot, entered a local match and did pretty good. Shortly thereafter, he bought a pre-64 Model 70 from a family friend that had less than a box of shells through it. The provenance of the rifle was well known, the family friend bought it to hunt, didn't do so much, and, as godfather-in-spirit if not fact, wanted my dad to have it. A couple of years later, blessed with practice time and fair immunity to recoil (for this was a standard M70 in 30-06) Dad put 4k Sierra 180 gr. seconds through it in one summer, practicing up. He'd bolted a Canjar trigger into it and strapped on an early Redfield target scope (now long since gone- it didn't handle that kind of use well). Dad carries the rifle elk hunting today, albeit without the target scope it bore for silhouette shooting. With the Model 70 for an elk/deer rifle, he still hung on to his sporterized Springfield as a spare. This was particularly useful when the Model 70 was carrying a 10x target scope with large and delicate adjustment turrets. The Springfield was the rifle I carried on my first few elk and nilgai hunts. It has the original long, smooth military trigger, which, with a bit of practice, is pretty deadly for a good shot. Not in the Canjar/M70 league, but danged effective. The biggest whitetail buck I'm likely to shoot came off my Aunt and Uncle's lease in South Texas at 250 yards with that Springfield on a cold December morning- put the K4 skinny crosshairs right behind the shoulder, halfway up the side, then start pulling. That trigger just glides back until the next thing you know you're recovering from recoil, watching through the glass as you cycle the bolt and the buck's legs kick up from the grass.

Getting more competitive, Dad built up a Remington Model 700 in 308, this being in the days before the 7mm-08 was making inroads in metallic silhouette shooting. An El Paso gunsmith took off the safety and worked the trigger down to 6 ounces and Dad ordered a Fajen stock blank that he spent a lot of time finishing- a high, roll-over comb target stock that turned out to have gorgeous figure through the butt. Dad finished it blond and shot the rifle for years and thousands of rounds. You could always pick it out on the rack and it was one of the prettiest rifles on the line as well as accurate. I shot it quite a bit, too. The stock was short for me and I'd scope myself every so often. That rifle is gone despite the hours of work and practice, sold. Back to practicality, inspired in part by economics. When we got into KD highpower, Dad sold a .30 carbine (wish we'd have known what today's prices would get to), a couple of cases of ammo and a Colt Gold Cup from his Outdoor Pistol days to defray the cost of a used M1A with a heavy stock and a good barrel, as well as an accuracy and a trigger job. That rifle, too, passed on some time ago. At some other point, he sold a Colt Commander in furtherance of the purchase of a .22 target rifle for my competitive shooting. Dad's not immune to sentiment, he still has his first adult-purchase deer rifle, a .300 Savage Model 99 with straight stock and schnabel forend, sex-on-a-stick, early twentieth century version, as far as rifles are concerned, but then the resale on the old Savage was nothing until the recent interest of collectors. Even so, his old Savage came to him hard used and saw many further miles and it's in the most common of chamberings for that rifle, so it carries history and sentiment, but not much in the way of dollar value. With a few exceptions, Dad's kept things down to the basics. For that matter, he doesn't really tweak with what he's got.

As for me, less so. Unlike other gear, I have a harder time letting go of guns and can't look at them entirely practically, sort of like antlers from old hunts. As an example, I bought an SKS right before the assault weapons ban, hoping for appreciation and not interested much in the weapon per se. Once the Curio and Relic Russian models started flooding in, I congratulate myself for getting my money back after ten years, trading it toward a CZ 527 American in .223, the rifle that started this musing. It was easy to get rid of the SKS- that is no Commie .30 Carbine. In contrast to the carbine it is heavy, awkward, and kicks. Of course, it runs a more powerful cartridge, but the SKS wasn't fun, in my opinion. I felt sort of lucky to get my money back for it. I bought the CZ because I had long thought that a .223 would be just the thing to take advantage of cheap surplus ammunition and get some center-fire practice in. On top of that, the Czechs build a lovely little mini-Mauser action, something of some romance itself. This rifle is blued steel and walnut, a decent blue job and a stock with a bit better than decent wood and better-than-most checkering (the guys in the gun shop that handled the FFL gathered around when I opened the box- collective sigh and "nice"). The protruding detachable magazine spoils the lines of the rifle a bit, but provides a fine palm rest for offhand shooting (my favored position, anyway). I use the ugly CZ rings that came with the rifle, they are just about the right height for the scope that I had for it. If I really worried about aesthetics, I might stick on some Talley rings.


This rifle pleases me a great deal- but it is not a deer rifle, an elk rifle, a duck gun or an upland gun. I don't shoot coyotes and don't live around groundhogs, purposes for which it would excel, absent really long range shooting, and I haven't even wrung all the accuracy out of it beyond determining that it doesn't like bullets heavier than 62 grains. Before the recent spike in ammunition prices I bought a mort of South African 55 grain soft points, but haven't put more than a couple of hundred rounds through the gun. If I ever find myself shooting little Texas whitetails, I wouldn't hesitate to use it as a deer gun, choosing my shots and taking advantage of the accurate cartridge and rifle, but that doesn't look likely anytime soon. Nonetheless, the rifle, impractical as it is, pleases me a great deal.

I find it funny how firearms feel different than other pieces of gear. Not all are the same- my duck gun I love for ruggedness, ergonomics, and reliability and if any of those characteristics should be bettered or fail I'd trade it in a heartbeat. Nonetheless, most guns inspire a bit more sentimentality than other types of gear. Perhaps it is their durability- a well-built weapon can easily be in use after a hundred years service. Perhaps it is the many hours we can end up carrying them in the field, or the care demanded in their handling and maintenance.

While I aspire to hard headed practicality toward well cared for but well used tools, including guns, I guess I haven't gotten there yet.

Flies for salmon

Not salmon flies, though.

They deserve a post of their own, perhaps next spring if I actually manage to catch the hatch. We frequently have a pretty good hatch of those big guys down here in the southwest.

These are flies for coho, also called silver, salmon. I'm headed off to Alaska for a fifth annual salmon trip and I've been busy filling fly boxes. I thought I'd share a few with you all:



That's a Toad, tied in the fashion of an Egg-sucking leech, seen below:





The Toad is a saltwater fly which works well for salmon, too. The trick to the Toad is the action. The tail is made from a strip of dyed rabbit with the hair left on or from marabou, either of which tend to pulse, flex, and wiggle in the water. In the front end are a pair of lead eyes, which cause the fly to ride with the hook point up and to dive for the bottom nose first. The body is made from bouyant yarn trimmed into a flat coin shape, helping the fly to plane up and down. When retrieved, the fly darts up and then planes down, leaving that wiggling tail up in the current. Altogether, the action tends to get predator's attention. The colors are appropriate for salmon, purple with a bright head, or chartreuse:



That purple egg-sucking leech shown up above this photo is a standard salmon and steelhead fly and one of the most successful. The theory behind it is that the salmon see a leech preying on salmon roe and strike it to kill the scavenger. I'm not aware for the explanation as to why purple generally works better than olive or black (though black can also work) which are standard leech colors. For many years, one of the best flies we've found has been a varient of a chartreuse woolly bugger:



which is a simple fly that can be quickly tied. The tail is, once again, marabou for the pulsing action in the water. The body is something called Polar Chenille, once again very active in the water, and the whole thing is heavily weighted with an underbody of lead wire to get it down in the heavy waters we fish. Last year, however, the reliable chartreuse bugger was outfished by the Popsicle:



which is a fly consisting of a pink marabou or rabbit tail, succeeded by layers or red or wine material, then topped with purple behind a bead-head. The bead is brass and helps give the fly that important up-and-down pulsing action in the water. Sometimes, the fish want a flash fly-here are a couple:



These flies are sort of like Mepps spinners for fly-fishermen. Weighted, they have silver tinsel, a bit of color, and lots of Flashabou, a reflective, slightly opaque material. Drawn through the water they pulse and glisten. Their reflective qualities also keep them from photographing well. More fun to fish than all of these, if a person is lucky he might find some fish holding in still water where they will strike a Pollywog:



That's not a traditional 'wog, which originally was created from spun and clipped deer-hair. The original version requires a lot of time and effort for construction, then tends to become waterlogged and ravaged by salmon teeth. This guy is made from closed cell foam, painted the appropriate hot pink, then sealed and tipped with a slinky marabou tail. With luck, it will stand strikes from a dozen fish and manage to land half that. When the cohos are in the right mood, they follow such a fly stripped across the surface in short jerks repeatedly striking and slashing at it. For an angler, there isn't much more fun you can have than that!

Most of these flies named are shown with names I've picked up from other fishermen, articles, or the occasional reference. Far from definitive, they are an example of the weird things coho salmon choose to strike and some of what has been occupying my time lately.

Tie Flying

I started tying my own flies back ten years or so. At the time, I had started fishing the San Juan tailwater in NW New Mexico quite a bit. That section of river flows at a constant 42 F, year round, due to a bottom-draw dam. Given consistent conditions around the year, the bugs hatch and the trout grow at fantastic rates. I learned to throw a two-nymph rig under a strike indicator and split shot and was rewarded with catching many two and three pound trout. The hot flies at the time were a vernille San Juan worm in dull orange (still a must-have for anyone on that river, in my opinion) and the "disco midge". The San Juan worm referred to just above is nothing more than an inch and a quarter of micro-chenille tied to a number 14 nymph hook in two places and brought to a point on the ends. After such a fly is used for a while, the chenille begins to hinge at the tie in points and flops back on itself in the water. At that point, it is useless, as the aquatic worms the lure imitates generally lie straight in the water and the fish won't strike a convoluted worm. These things cost a buck and a half apiece and a decent day's fishing would run through anywhere up to a dozen flies. This situation was not acceptable to a budget flyfisher such as myself. Consequently, I borrowed a vise from my grandad and bought a hundred pack of Mustad no. 14 nymph hooks, a spool of no. 6 red uni-thread, and a package of dull orange micro-chenille - all total about seven dollars, and tied up thirty or forty worms.

A disco midge, although tiny (size 18-24) is also very simple, consisting of an underbody of black or red thread overlain with abutting wraps of clear Flashabou with a thorax of peacock herl or loosely spun dubbing. I learned to tie those pretty quick, too.

Alas, those initial savings have long been consumed in the course of tying many more flies. I took a series of lessons and learned how to tie more complex patterns. All well and good, two and three dollar dry flies could be constructed for pennies. Ninety-nine cent bargain dries could be improved upon, with a little care. Then I got into saltwater fly fishing a bit and had to buy more materials and hooks. A large saltwater fly with eyes can cost well over two bucks just in materials and take half an hour to assemble. The expansion of materials necessary for some of the larger saltwater patterns also led to the over-collection of supplies. I have way too many different colors of bucktail, flash, and synthetic fibers now.

Be that as it may, the economics have subsided into background. While tying will never be an end to itself with me and I'll never name a pattern, it has become an integral and practical part of my fishing. For example, heading up to Alaska for a week's fishing for Coho salmon requires about five dozen flies for the three of us. Since I can tie, a small packet of materials and hooks allows me to knock up a dozen or so of the hot pattern in an evening. I can therefor avoid having to tie an initial batch several times larger than that we carry for the first couple of days. Salmon, strange and wonderful creatures that they are, choose different patterns to strike in different years, perhaps because they aren't seeking to eat? Of course, one really has to wonder what a salmon is looking to do at all, as a fly box for silvers (cohos) looks like box of Christmas ornaments done in poor taste, or as a friend better put it "like sweepings from the dressing room at La Cage".

Afternoon at the club

I recently spent an afternoon at my local gun club. The reason I went out there was to sight a new rifle scope in. For those not familiar with shooting jargon, that is to adjust the telescopic sight so that the crosshairs rest at the point where the bullet will strike at a given distance. This particular scope is replacing an ancient Weaver variable resting on a Remington bolt action .22 (a 541S). When I came up to the range, the bay with the most room had one other shooter, whom I joined. Once set up, I walked over to chat and wait for him to hit a stopping point so that I could go downrange and set my targets. This gentleman was shooting a couple of cap and ball revolvers as well as a pair of short flintlock muskets. I asked him about one (decorated with tacks and brass cut outs, it was pretty clearly a trade gun replica) which turned out to be a replica of a shortened Charleville musket. The other piece was new to him and was a copy of a civilian made ship's musket built on a Tower lock- it was something an 18th Century ship would have carried in its locker. I asked the caliber and load for that and he enthusiastically told me that it was 72 caliber and that he loaded it with 95 grains of black powder. Then he said "you have to try it!"

Not wishing to be rude, I replied "thanks!" and watched with some trepidation as he poured a substantial charge down the barrel, topped it with a felt wad, then proceeded to pound a tight-fitting lead ball down the bore. My trepidation increased a bit when he handed me the musket and then poured a generous-seeming but unmeasured portion of powder into the pan, closed the frizzen, and suggested placing the front sight just to the right of the tang screw in order to hit a gong some thirty yards downrange. Now, this musket had a nice wide brass buttplate, which was good. Nonetheless, a near-golfball had been literally pounded down the bore, giving a fellow raised on modern rifles and storied of bulged shotgun barrels more than a little pause. Further, I discovered last fall that any charge over 90 grains of black powder in my .50 caliber mountain rifle meant a significant amount of recoil. So, all this going through my head, along with the notation that this piece was made in India (and he hammered the ball down the barrel!) I lined up to give it a try.

And flinched my fool head off. I flinched so badly that I almost had time to recover from the flinch and get back on target. I still managed to miss the gong by a good foot, an embarrassing performance to say the least, particularly given that the lock time was amazingly quick given what I'd heard of flintlocks (about like an air rifle, I would say) and the recoil negligable. What embarrasment.

Nonetheless, the afternoon passed pleasantly and I was able to help my fellow shooter pull a stubborn stuck ball later on. The little bit of knowledge and experience picked up at random at the range seems to me to be more typical of that place than not- the shooting community (at least off line) tends to be friendly and helpful. For every jerk, I've run into at least a dozen true gentlefolk, knowledgeable and eager to help or share. The ratio strikes me as more favorable than that life generally proffers.

The rifle that I was sighting in is my primary grouse gun. Here in the Southwest we have mountain (blue or spruce in the books) grouse. When flushed, the birds will fly for some distance and then light on a tree limb. A hunter limiting himself to head shots with a .22 rifle picks no lead from his meat and offers the birds a sporting chance. More sporting still is to hunt them with a .22 pistol. Once again limiting attempts to head shots, collecting grouse becomes very challenging. Sometimes the birds are humiliatingly tolerant of bad shooting. More than once I've made half a dozen attempts at heading a bird strutting back and forth on a horizontal limb twenty yards away, the bird not willing to fly but too nervous to stand still, the hunter increasingly hurried, frustrated, and inaccurate. Since I started off embarrassing myself, I will close in the same vein.

Nearly twenty years ago, my father and I were walking down a shallow draw in SW Colorado one afternoon during elk season. We were about 200 yards apart with a narrow band of quakies running down the center of the draw between us as we headed for steeper timbered slopes further down. Right off my boot toe a large male grouse startled out of the sage, running some ten yards before me then rapidly picking his way toward the bottom of the draw. I slung my rifle, drew my pistol, chambered a round, then proceeded to try to get a decent sight picture of a grey-blue grouse head against grey and grey blue sage. The bird complicated things by never holding still- he never ran really hard, but he never stopped. Finally, as he stepped from behind a clump of sage, I tried a shot. Then another, and another. Steadily we worked our way down the draw, both scurrying through the sage, our progress punctuated by the "pop" of my pistol. At one point, hunting through a pocket for more rounds, I looked up to see my dad watching our progress with his binoculars. Soon, we hit the thick aspens, the bird quickly walking between the white trunks (which provided a better sight picture but more cover) and I heard a "pop" from my left to see my father leaning against a tree making his own try. After a humiliating number of shots between us, I looked up from re-reloading my magazine to see my father doing the same. I had hoped he had quit because he had gotten the grouse. "Do you see the bird?" I asked, only to hear "No, do you?" We searched a bit but he had distanced us and was laying low. He had walked right out of our lives.