…and no, we’re not talking about looking at bikini pics of Salma Hayek. We’re talking about this nonsense, as sent to me by my so-called friend Combat Controller:
And once fitted:
Seriously?
As I pointed out to CC, the only thing stopping me from reaching for Ye Olde Credytte Carde is that said “furniture upgrade” costs nearly double what I spent on the rifle itself.
Gotta admit, though, it’s not bad-looking.
This from PSA:
I have to say that having a Buckmark trigger — still better, I think, than that of any other .22 pistol outside the competition guns — for only $300 sounds like a good deal.
But I also have to say that I’ve never been able to get anything more than minute-of-Coke-can accuracy with that 4″ bull barrel, and I’ve owned more than one of that type. Not that this is altogether a Bad Thing, of course, because if you’re going to head out into the woods or to a short range with nothing but Death To Cans in mind, this little Micro would be the bee’s knees.
I do prefer the full-steel (and longer than 4″) barrel over the lighter bull barrel:
…and in fact I have just such a 5″ barrel, waiting to be swapped in its current holder:
…when I have the time / inclination to do so.
Okay, at first glance this is a weird one:
Now before everyone starts falling about with laughter, let’s just look at what this piece brings to the party.
One of the problems with the similarly-chambered Taurus “Judge” revolver is its size:
I mean, that lo-o-o-o-ng cylinder makes it a monster, which makes it problematic in terms of its utility. You can’t carry it comfortably and frankly, the shorty barrel makes it unpleasant to shoot. (Ask me how I know this.)
While the little .410 shotgun shell is a weeny compared to its larger cousins in 12-, 16-, 20- or even 28ga, it still announces its ignition with a very meaty slam into your wrist if chambered in a handgun. (I once owned a Bond Arms Derringer in .45 LC/.410ga, and shooting it was an ummm interesting experience.)
Frankly, therefore, a handgun chambered in .410ga is not really a viable or even pleasant proposition.
Now let’s look at that Rossi Circuit Judge again.
In a stroke, it does away with all the disadvantages of the .45/.410 revolver by adding a longer barrel (helps with recoil and ballistics) and the shoulder stock turns it into a handy little carbine.
Ignoring the .45 Colt part for a moment — because we all know and love the old cartridge for its deadliness — what this Circuit Judge brings you is a tiny and manageable .410 shotgun, with six rounds capacity. Find me another .410 shotgun that compares.
Would I want a Circuit Judge for myself? No, because I have no real need for it. But if I lived in an area where potting crows and rabbits and such is part of an early evening’s entertainment with friends while sitting around a fire pit with a glass or two of single malt at the elbow, such as at Free Market Towers in Hardy Country…
…I’d buy one in a heartbeat.
Whilst idly browsing the shotguns at Collectors, I happened upon this wonderful piece:
Now, one might balk at paying $27,500 for a gun made in 1907, but one would run the risk of being called ignorant of Boss & Co.’s storied heritage. And unlike some other marquee shotgun brands (Purdey coff coff ) who are part of the Beretta conglomerate, Boss is independently owned. And as Boss has been in existence since 1812, one might assume that the London-based gun company is well-known to many discerning gun owners because of the excellence (“Best”) of their products. And one’s assumption would be correct:
It should be remembered, by the way, that it was Boss & Co. who designed and made the very first over-and-under shotgun, back in 1909 (okay, I’ll forgive them this heresy) so in this, at least, John Moses Browning was a copier and not an originator.
And Boss haven’t made only long guns, either:
Boss & Co. are unashamedly devoted to making a premium product, and only a premium product — hence the term “Best Only”. And yes, that premium comes at a steep price; but to own a Boss shotgun is to own a work of art and a piece of history and heritage like few others.
And that’s the reason why I think that the old 1907 shotgun at Collectors is an absolute bargain.
There’s a wonderful Afrikaans idiom which goes, “Ugly is one thing, but stupid?” (The “stupid” is pronounced “stchoopid”, which makes it all the meatier.)
Which was my first impression when espying this little offer from PSA:
“UGLY” is for the gun; “STUPID” is for the schmuck who’d pay nearly three grand (or the non-sale four-and-a-half grand) for this foul thing.
I don’t care how well it shoots (we’ll ignore the 9mm Europellet because in this case, the chambering is irrelevant); this is not a gun that any man should be carrying, or competing with, or — guess who would — showing off to his friends along with his $100,000 diamond-encrusted Hublot wristwatch and $750,000 Lamborghini Astarigida*.
Ugh. I need to get to the range and shoot some nice guns. (see below)
*colloquial Italian expression for “erection”, i.e. “stiff rod”. It’s what all modern Lamborghinis should be named.
It has been quite a while since I took my revolvers out for some air — I speak here not of the .22 revolvers, but the meatier ones — and as I was packing the range bag, I thought I’d drop in a quick pic of some of the old S&W warriors:
For those unfamiliar with the K-frame (and one J-frame) models, they are (clockwise from top):
Just so we’re perfectly clear on the topic, I love all of them equally. Each has a specific use (e.g. the Mod 65 is my bedside gun, the little 637 a backup option, etc.), each has its own story, and a day at the range spent in their company is a day well spent.
“So why the smaller K-frame models, and not the L or N ones, Kim?”
The K-frame revolvers just fall into my hands, no muss no fuss, like they were made for them. The larger frames, not so much.
Also, I want to draw particular attention to the first-mentioned Model 10:
…because I came to own it under fairly interesting circumstances, which I’ll explain tomorrow as part of a novel idea.