She Walks in Beauty

It’s a banner day. My Ruger Precision Rifle is here, and I got the scope and bipod installed. Mostly. I haven’t tightened the screws on the scope yet.

It’s amazing how much difference good training makes. I adjusted the rifle’s length of pull correctly. I installed the scope correctly with the right eye relief (checked while lying prone) and the right comb height. I have the right tool for applying the correct torque to the scope screws, so I’ll get that done, too.

What about lapping the rings? I haven’t done it. Seekins, the company that made these expensive rings, says it isn’t necessary because they’re super precise. Before I finalize things, I’ll check with my new lapping bar. It came with silicon carbide abrasive, but I found out this material leaves grit embedded in aluminum rings, and the grit takes the finish off scopes, so I got myself a special garnet abrasive used for musical instruments. I am on top of this.

You know what would be great? Being able to shoot the rifle. I waited a whole day for a background check, and then I had to call the pawn shop and remind them. By the time I got home, it was way too late to set the rifle up and also shoot.

Since writing the last paragraph, I have used a torque wrench to fasten the scope down properly. I also screwed the sunshade into the objective end of the scope. Now all I need to do is to adjust the eyepiece and parallax and start shooting.

I’m thinking about building a plywood table for prone shooting. I think a 4′ by 8′ sheet of plywood will be big enough. I used yard tools to clear out a shooting lane in the pasture, and I got a tarp to put between my shooting mat and the ground, but I think a foot and a half of elevation would be nice. It would give me a lower shooting angle, making it even less likely that I would shoot over the berm, it would give me a place to sit while fighting with rifle problems, and it would help me see over the weeds. It would also make the tarp unnecessary.

I would probably have to put a roof on the platform to keep the cows off of it. They’re like juvenile delinquents. They get into everything. I still can’t believe they slobbered all over my chair and folding table.

Unless there is a deluge tomorrow, I’m going to try to shoot the AR-15 with its new scope. Once I work the bugs out of the system, I’ll think about 6.5 Creedmoor. Both rifles should be a joy to shoot.

My buddy Mike is getting serious about taking the shooting course I took. He’s thinking about putting a Creedmoor barrel in his Savage .308. He’s also thinking about cheap scopes. I told him it would be way better to show up with a .308 and a great scope than a 6.5 Creedmoor and a Chinese toy that breaks on the first day.

I hope we still have a country when the course rolls around.

The second course, which I am determined to take, is scheduled for after the election. I would hate to pay the fee and then lose it because America had fallen into insanity. I guess I should be more concerned about the apocalypse itself than the $750 tuition.

I guess I’ll be a pretty good long-range shooter by the first of the year. Minimally competent, I mean. A minimally competent long-range shooter can do pretty cool things compared to people who never train.

Am I becoming a sniper? I wonder. I didn’t have sniping in mind when I signed up for the first course, but two snipers taught it. Killers. Not putting them down; they did it for you and me, and they must be very brave men. But I didn’t think of shooting as sniping when I signed up. I thought of it as a fun skill.

Some people are excited about the prospect of treating deranged fellow citizens like TV zombies. Not me. I just wanted to be able to use the tools I had bought. A scoped rifle can end up like an unplayed electric guitar a young man leaves in a stand to impress girls. I don’t want that to happen to my rifles.

There are thousands of potential snipers in America, due to the popularity of long-range shooting. I’m not even including ordinary hunters who haven’t been trained yet manage to kill animals hundreds of yards off. There must be a million of those. The countryside is a potential killing field for brainless urban rioters who might decide to branch out after easy victories over city-dwellers and suburbanites.

Me, I just want to ring gongs and maybe vaporize some prairie dogs.

It’s nice to be good at things. Hope I have time to improve.