Not That Bad

Via Insty (thankee Squire), I see that our favorite shooting rag has a piece about a new Bond Arms Derringer:

Speaking personally, I think it’s pig-ugly;  but no doubt someone will soon be telling me how matte is the new black, or something, and all the cool kids are carrying it.  Whatever.  I like ’em shiny (and without that sissy trigger guard):

But anyway, it was Insty’s comment which got my attention:

IT’S BASICALLY A .45 DERRINGER, SO I EXPECT IT TO KICK

That has not been my experience (remember that I am an infamous recoil wussy).  I’ve had two of these beauties in my time — in .45 Long Colt /.410ga, and in .38 Spec/.357 Mag — and I didn’t find the recoil in any of the four chamberings to be too unpleasant.  Here’s why.

I think that the teeny lil’ barrel helps.  Basically, it seems to me that before the burning powder can get up to full oomph in the chamber, the boolet has already left the building, so to speak.  Even .410 slugs were stout, but quite manageable — especially when you remember that Derringers are “halitosis-range” guns, in that even if the scumbag doesn’t immediately die from the boolet, the muzzle flash should set his fucking clothes on fire to complete the carnage.  And forget the loss of muzzle velocity from the tiny barrel — at 4″ distance from the target, it’s very much a moot point.

I wouldn’t want to let off hundreds of rounds of serious centerfire ammo in a single session at the range with a Bond Arms Derringer, mind — half a dozen would do just fine, thank you — but frankly, even a dozen-odd rounds of .45 ACP wouldn’t be too much of an imposition on one’s shooting hand.

What I’ve always liked about the Bond Arms guns is that they are heavy, baby — which means if you hold it in your hand and give someone a swift smack on the side of the head with it, he is going to go down.

Manly guns.  I love ’em.

Old Rifle, Old Cartridge… Heaven

As everyone knows, I love Old Gunny Stuff — and a good-looking pre-WWII hunting rifle in a proven chambering pretty much checks all my boxes.  Here’s a Savage 99 in .250-3000 (.250 Savage) at Collectors:

As I’ve also said before, I am not a fan of the 99 when it’s chambered in a larger caliber like .303 Savage, .308 Win and so on, because of the stiff recoil.  But a nice quarter-incher like the .250 Savage?  And in a handy little carbine?  (And did I also say before how much I love the Savage’s slick lever action and box magazine which can hold pointy spitzer boolets, unlike the WinMar lever guns with their tube mags?)

The age of rifles doesn’t bother me at all, provided that they’ve been reasonably well-looked after:  I’ve owned many pre-WWII rifles, and honestly, I’ve loved pretty much every single one of them:  Swiss K-11, Swedish 1896 Mausers, SMLE and Enfield No.4s, Mosin-Nagants, gawd knows how many Mauser 98s, and so on.  The one rifle of this genre that got away, by the way, also gives me the deepest regret at its loss:  a pre-WWI Winchester 94 in .32 Win Special (as I recall, made in 1910), which I bought from a dear friend who a year later demanded I sell it back to him because he was missing it too much.  Now I miss that rifle, still.  Here’s one, also from Collectors.

Were it not for their respective price tags — which reflect how many people love these rifles as much as I do — I’d buy them both in a heartbeat.

So yeah:  old rifles and old cartridges don’t frighten me, and they shouldn’t frighten anyone.  These fine old ladies are flat-out wonderful and gorgeous, their cartridges are just as effective as any modern cartridge, and everyone should own at least one.

Touch history, folks, while you still can.  You can thank me later.

Kim’s Back Yard

Following yesterday’s post which mocked the British ideal of “dream garden”, here are my own (ranked) top ten desirable backyard features:

1. four-bay 25-yard air-conditioned indoor pistol range
2. 100-yard rifle range with back stop and shaded shooting benches
3. sporting clays area, with six or more stations
4. six-car garage
5. climate-controlled storage shed for ammo and sundry shooting supplies (maybe backing off one of the ranges) with a decent reloading setup inside
6. outdoor kitchen with both charcoal- and gas grills, including a bar counter
7. woodworking shop, e.g. Norm Abrams’s “New Yankee Workshop”
8. swimming pool
9. surrounding the entire back yard with a couple extra corners thrown in, a go-kart track which could accommodate grownup cars e.g. a Caterham 500
10. Guest house where my friends could stay for their (probably weekly) play dates.

Okay, the race track is possibly something of an overreach, but not necessarily.

As for the “garden” idea… meh.  Patio or deck with pool and BBQ grill, no lawn.  Pots with artificial flowers.

Safe Queen

I think I’ve said before that I can understand why someone won’t shoot a particular gun — its extreme age makes it risky, its historical value, or maybe shooting it would devalue it from its “unfired NIB” value, to give but two reasons — but all I’m saying is that I sure as hell wouldn’t hold off from popping some lead downrange with it.

Here’s a prime example, from one of the Usual Suspects, of a presentation-worthy Browning Medalist target pistol:

(The link has all sorts of fine pics, showing the engraving and so on.)

Now Barnett wants $7,500 for this unfired beauty, but there’s something eating at me about it (other than the silly price, of course;  maybe it’s worth it — I don’t move in the Browning Collector Set circles, so I wouldn’t know).

A precision target pistol is made to be used.  All that smithing and careful detail in both its design and manufacture is completely wasted when it’s just going to sit unfired for 35 years in some guy’s safe, and only taken out to be lovingly wiped down (or shown off), then put back for another decade until, eventually, it gets sold.  I mean, WTF?

Sorry, I just can’t get my head around it.  And let’s be honest:  what might make the next owner not want to shoot it is the fact that he just dropped over seven grand on its virginal goodness.  We don’t even know if the thing is accurate — it’s precision is all potential, not actual.

All I can say is that it’s a good thing I haven’t yet won the lottery, because if I had, that Medalist would now be in my possession with its trigger pulled well over 500 times.  And if just the thought of that makes you get the shivers, we live in different worlds.

And if it’s too pretty to be fired, then I wouldn’t buy the stupid thing.

Supplies

Mr. Free Market writes to inform me that he’s off to the North for a spot of bird shooting [jealous], and has laid in an adequate supply of the necessary, to whit:

Off-camera:  the case of Scotch.

Remember:  there’s no danger of Chinkvirus infection at a driven bird shoot, seeing as the shooters are spaced thirty-odd yards apart.

It’s the after-shoot activities that should give cause for concern… just not to me nor, it appears, to Mr. FM and his shooting buddies.