When They Won’t Buy What I Want

This is horrible. Mike still hasn’t chosen a 1911 to buy, and today he is asking me about GLOCKS.

Oh, man. Not that. Anything but that.

I have Glocks. Wonderful guns for self-defense. Accurate. Easy to shoot. Durable. Reliable. Light. They strip in five seconds. But man are they boring. And as heirlooms they’re about as exciting as shoehorns. “Here, Butch, this is your dad’s boxy, dull-finished plastic gun, which he bought because he watched too many Vanilla Ice videos. I hid this uncomfortable hunk of metal…”

This can’t be happening. I was counting on him getting a sweet new 1911 for me to shoot.

I found a sweet used Colt Special Combat carry model for the price of a new Dan Wesson. Mike thinks it’s ugly. I’m tempted to buy it myself, even though it has fixed sights. I’m not a Colt lover, but I hear nothing but good things about the Special Combat models. And if I take care of it, it should hold its value or appreciate. Does anybody out there know how big a deal it is to put adjustable sights on an old Colt with fixed sights? I might want to do that, if I buy it. If it had Novak sights, I could screw adjustable Novaks right into the same mount. But it has the old-style rear sight, which is just a bar.

I guess messing with it would hurt the collectible value.

Mike is all hot for a Glock 17L, which is the 6″-barrel competition version of the 9mm. Doesn’t do much for me, but I shoot extremely well with the 3″ Glock 26, so I would guess that the 17L is like a laser.

I think his son put him up to this.

Has this ever happened to you? You help a friend shop for a gun, you find something he should buy, and then you end up buying it yourself because he won’t listen to you?

He asked if the Glock was an okay gun to learn on. I think I gave him a complex the other day, shooting better than he did. He has been shooting twice since the 1990s, and he shot better than nearly everyone at the range, and he feels like a failure. Arrrgh.

I was wondering last night; does anyone collect Glocks? Is there any point? Wouldn’t it be like collecting cinderblocks or ping pong balls? Aren’t they all nearly the same? “Here’s my 1992 Glock 17, in black plastic with a dull finish. And here’s my 2004 Glock 22. In black plastic with a dull finish. No, wait. That’s the 17.” Ahh. What works of art.

Range time later.

These are Today’s Themes

I gritted my teeth and watched Hillary Clinton for a while last night, hoping–I know this is crazy–that she might do the humble, honest thing and make a short concession speech.

I know. I know. I am an incurable idealist.

After maybe fifteen minutes of what was clearly a Bizarro victory speech, I had to change the channel. While observing politics, I have seen cheerful losers. I have seen gracious losers. Until last night, I had never seen a loser who was cheerful and gracious because she couldn’t tell the difference between defeat and victory. It is as though Al Gore laid his hands on her and transferred his special spirit of craziness.

Only a liberal could be so unacquainted with the concept of rules that she would persist, at this point, in thinking she was the nominee. You have to give liberals credit. We give up when we know we’re wrong. Liberals get back up and yell “‘Tis but a scratch!” Imagine playing Monopoly with a person like that. Every game would end only after a costly lawsuit, with David Boies arguing that everyone knows you get money when you land on Free Parking.

I guess it’s good for Republicans. John McCain can sit around and wait while Hillsy and Snobama eat each other alive. I haven’t contributed a dime to the campaign, simply because I haven’t seen any need to. If McCain gets the money now, he’ll blow it on ads that will run way too early. He needs to wait until the Democrats have a candidate the public takes relatively seriously.

I am getting comments about the Colt Python revolver. One commenter seems to think I own one. I don’t. I was Windows-shopping out of boredom, and that’s how I came across the Python. I knew it existed, but I hadn’t really read much about it until yesterday.

I was complaining because my Googling brought a disturbing revelation: Pythons are too weak to stand up to real .357 ammunition. One reader says Ruger is the answer. I know I’ll catch it from Ruger owners, but some of those guns are a bit frumpy. Even the grips are awful. In fact, I think that’s the main problem. Why didn’t Ruger pay an industrial designer five hundred bucks to pretty up the plans before they went into production?

I guess they look pretty good once you get new grips, and quality makes up for a certain amount of ugliness. Hey, I own Glocks.

A GP100 is a tempting item. Available for under $500. Very tough. Accurate. I think I paid around $650 for my 6″ Smith. You can get an old Security Six for like $300. Some people claim the Security Six is better than the GP100. Don’t ask me. No idea. Here’s a GP100.

That one comes with Hogue grips. Same ones I have on the Smith, I think. I don’t like them–I think they feel wobbly–but they look better than Ruger’s own grips.

Here is what would be fun. Buy a 6″ GP100 and have it ported and shortened to 5″. And I don’t see anything on Ruger’s site about an idiotic internal lock on the gun (like the one Smith shoves down your throat). I found a site where some guy shows you how to do your own Ruger trigger job. That might be fun.

Is it okay to have a blued gun ported, or will the gases eat the barrel’s finish? I know Mag-na-port will do it, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a good idea.

Incidentally, it looks like Cabela’s is a much better place to look for used guns than Gunbroker.

I don’t know why I’m writing about this trivial stuff, since today is WINN-DIXIE EMAIL AD DAY. Let’s see what I can buy with my Customer Reward card.

Oh, man! They’re having a “MEGA-MEAT SALE!”

Pork chops (assorted), buy one, get one. Same deal for boneless chicken breast.

Drumsticks, 99 cents per pound. Wish I knew how to get the “cents” character out of this keyboard.

Center-cut pork chops, buy one, get one.

Wings, $1.79.

Hickory Sweet bacon, buy one, get one. This is good bacon.

Lamb chops, buy one, get one. Oh, yes. It may be time for lamb stew.

They also have boneless top sirloin for cheap. If that’s the same thing as palomilla steak, I am in business.

Sure Looks Like It

Og says the Colt Python will not suit his manly shooting needs. I put a photo of the Python up, before I learned of its shortcomings.

I was reading about the Python today, and it seemed like many gun enthusiasts were so excited about it, their zeal was pretty much sexual. It was worse than Chris Matthews and Barack Obama. They practically squealed. One noted guru called it “the Mercedes-Benz of revolvers.”

Funny thing, saying that about a gun which, I later learned, isn’t strong enough to put up with prolonged shooting of real-world loads. The Python has a wimpy frame. Seems like a major design flaw to me. Would you want to worry about the size of your bullets every time you shot your expensive pistol? I sure wouldn’t.

Weirder still, Colt used to make a “budget” .357 which was actually tougher than the Python. I am referring to the mighty King Cobra, which has the guts of the .44 Magnum Anaconda. Apparently, the King Cobra was not as slick and polished as the Python, so it sold for less. And it’s cheaper, used. But the up side is that it won’t shake itself apart when you use it for the thing it was designed to do.

Seems to me–I am guessing–that the smart Colt revolver buy, for a person who actually shoots, is a King Cobra. If you want it pretty, you spend three hundred bucks having it customized. Buy it in stainless, get a trigger job, crown the barrel, put grips on it, have it refinished, and be done with it. Or you could get a Python and shoot quasi-squib 38 Special loads. Or just polish it real nice and put it in your safe. No way do I want a Python now. If it can’t stand up to real ammunition, it’s junk. Or…let’s be nice…it’s an excellent .38 Special, mislabeled at the factory. A marvelous, attractive pistol. For old ladies.

And for some reason, people are paying a thousand dollars apiece for used ones. I guess when someone tells you he paid a grand for a gun that won’t do its job, you know he’s a collector, not a shooter.

My Smith & Wesson 686 Plus is supposedly tougher than a Python, but the 8-shot Model 627 has a heavier frame and ought to last for eternity. And it has that sweet 5″ barrel. A 6″ barrel is heavy. A 4″ barrel has a shorter sight radius than 5″. I think 5″ is the way to go. It’s just a feeling.

Colt worship is really something to behold. If it can make you ignore a gun with an inadequate frame, it must be pretty powerful.

I am Perspiring

Colt Python Elite, 4″ barrel, blue!

Buttery and Burned

Here, try this.

INGREDIENTS

8 golf-ball-sized red potatoes cut in eighths
1 stick butter
1-2 cloves garlic, pressed
salt
pepper

Melt the butter. Put the potatoes, butter, and garlic in an oven-safe dish. Add salt and pepper to taste. Toss until mixed. Bake covered at 400 degrees for about an hour, until the potatoes soften. Remove the cover and bake until they get a little burned. If you want, hit them with grated cheese.

Really good. And it’s extremely easy. The big problem is, you’ll make more than you need, and you’ll have to throw them out to keep from eating them.

This recipe will make a decent side dish for maybe three hungry people.

Nice

Don’t mind me.

Forgot

I guess I’m a giant idiot. I forgot to tell everyone that June 2 was Jerusalem Day. It’s the day when Jews celebrate the 1967 reunification of Jerusalem, much of which had been off-limits to Jews since the 1948 attack by Israel’s relentless, savage, and unprincipled enemies. I assume the date is solar, not lunar.

I’m not sure why they celebrate, since they give back every piece of God-given land their enemies force them to conquer. They gave much of Jerusalem back. Sooner or later, though, the world will have a better Jerusalem Day to celebrate, because the entire Holy City will be controlled by the Jews. And so will Israel–the real Israel, not the little sliver we call “Israel” today. And it will stay that way.

In a related matter, Ed Koch reveals a mind worthy of a good yeshiva, as he explains why it is stupid and completely backward to accuse John Hagee of anti-Semitism.

Hagee thinks God played a part in the Holocaust. Perhaps he’s wrong. But either way, why do people get upset every time a preacher says God may have been involved in something resembling punishment?

Read the Bible before you react without thinking. The Babylonian captivity, the Egyptian captivity, the siege of Jerusalem, numerous failures in battle, famine and plagues in Egypt…the Bible says God caused or allowed these things. Where is it written that He has changed?

And before you claim that ended with the Old Testament, ask yourself when the last temple in Jerusalem was destroyed, and who predicted it.

Hagee thinks the Holocaust ultimately had a purpose. Is it somehow better to believe it was absolutely meaningless?

One of the big tactics enemies of religion use is the denial that God could do or consciously allow anything that would cause anyone pain. One goal: it helps them deny that sin exists. It excuses all human behavior and contributes to touchy-feely moral relativism. And the worst thing is, many issue this denial from pulpits, while claiming to be Christians.

I don’t think Hagee claims the Holocaust was punishment. But I think people are trying to twist his words and make it look as if he were blaming the Jews for their pain. Not all misfortune is punishment. I’m sure John Hagee knows that. The Egyptian exile was not a punishment, for example.

It irritates me, seeing people try to drive a wedge between Jews and their most powerful allies, American conservative Christians. But it doesn’t surprise me. To the enemy, we are a dangerous combination. The slanders tend to suggest that the threat has been recognized.

If only more Jews understood. I still can’t believe there are American Jews who think the anti-Semitic left will protect them from the Israel-loving right.

Might as Well Buy Him Caviar

Marv just can’t stop blogging. Today he gives more information on bird cookies.

He Embodies It

Sondra has a funny up. Bill Clinton continues his weird act.

I never realized how much he looks like Al Gore. AKA Pope Prius I.

I don’t care if no one else thinks “Pope Prius” is funny. I love it.

A++++ GREAT ONLINE AUCTION SERVICE!!!!!!

I Ebayed myself a Hornady Reloading Manual, and when I went to leave feedback, I saw that Ebay had a new policy: no more negative or neutral feedback from sellers. Sounds unfair at first, but it’s probably a good thing. A lot of jerks were putting up notices threatening to leave negative feedback for trivial reasons. And buyers are much more likely to be cheated.

I’ll bet a lot of creeps are running for cover now. See ya. Straighten up your act or be gone.

I’ve accidentally bought things I couldn’t pay for with Paypal. I never do that intentionally. A demand for a money order is like a big disclaimer reading “I do not want to be accountable when I cheat you.”

Paypal is stupid, too. I had to get their credit card in order to avoid giving them my bank information, and they have their system rigged up so it defaults to their card. You have to go through several screens to put payment on your preferred card. I prefer to avoid using my Paypal card, ever. But I have screwed up twice.

Here is a question for reloaders. I will never have to pay for ammunition boxes, because the trash cans at the range contain a nice selection. But I can see how it would be nice to have something a little tougher and more elegant. What would you do? Looks like two bucks is a good price for hundred-round boxes, and I’ll need five in each caliber.

A commenter is poking me for owing a Smith & Wesson 1911. I should take macro photos of the obvious manufacturing defects on my Custom Shop Colt and post them. I have two Smith & Wesson guns, and I plan to buy more, because they’re magnificent. I wouldn’t buy a new Colt unless I got to look it over carefully first. My Colt is going back for repairs, and I have to pay for shipping, killing the good deal I shopped to get. The Smiths? They go to the range.

More

Forgot to mention this. Speaking of 1911s, Michael Bane has a dandy. He participated in something called a Wild Bunch shooting match. If it’s not obvious, the participants are limited to weapons consistent with those used in the 1969 movie, The Wild Bunch. That includes 1911 pistols. His gun is a 1911A1 made by Remington Rand, and his father carried it in World War Two! How would you like to have an heirloom like that?

I don’t know how a service gun ended up property of a civilian. I think I won’t ask.

Provincial city-born gun-phobics in the Northeast and on the West Coast do not understand that guns are like jewelry. Men pass them down the way women pass down wedding rings. When I was writing about gun safes, readers told me about their irreplaceable guns. Try and explain that to a narrow-minded denizen of Greenwich Village or Malibu.

If you have an heirloom gun, send a photo and I’ll post it. I have a few.

…Tred Barta

There are a lot of good reasons for having Mike as a friend. One is that every phone call brings a complete surprise.

Tonight Mike says he intends to go shoot mooses, and he wants me to help.

As I have noted before, Mike lives in New Hampshire, which is a couple of hundred miles north of Canada. I think. And they have mooses. So naturally, every man in his right mind wants to kill them. Mike is no exception. He said something about how it works. You buy a ticket or enter the Moose Murder Raffle or something, and then they clear you to whack the moose. Unless of course it’s a “made moose,” in which case, you have to go straight to the Don.

Here’s one possible obstacle to the plan. Mike doesn’t own a single firearm. He owns three Dan Wesson barrels, but some crackhead in Ocala Florida has the gun itself, which is now the ultimate snubnose. Every hunting expert except Tred Barta agrees: when hunting mooses, a firearm is a good thing to have. Barta falls on møøses from the branches of trees, naked except for a pair of pink bunny slippers and a coat of Kiwi shoe polish, and kills them by squeezing their carotid arteries with his thighs.

He wasn’t able to sell the video to the Versus Network, but a certain segment of the German population eats it up.

I was thinking it might be incredibly cool to waste mooses with the Desert Eagle. Finally, a legitimate use for it.

Mike’s theory was that I would let him use my K31, while I would rely on the highly questionable Romak III. I still don’t own a hunting rifle. I have a 16-gauge shotgun which accepts rifled slugs, but I have no idea whether I can hit anything with it or not.

Here’s another possible obstacle. Neither one of us knows a damn thing about hunting. The most rewarding type of hunting I’ve done involved sneaking up on rabbits and blowing their tiny brains out with a .22. Other than that, I have done things like 1. waiting unsuccessfully for foxes to walk by, 2. waiting unsuccessfully for groundhogs to go after my grandmother’s garden, and 3. waiting unsuccessfully for squirrels to come out where I could shoot them. I’ve also wiped out entire communities of blackbirds and killed an entire generation of lizards with a BB gun. I think Mike has shot some pigs and turkeys. Not sure. And I shot a fine bass with a deer rifle. But neither one of us is ready for the Outdoor Network.

Mike pointed out that a dead moose weighs about 3,000 pounds, give or take, which is considerably more than either of us can carry. So he’s wondering what we’re supposed to do when the moose kacks. Is that really our problem? Can’t we just leave it on the ground, to molder its way into the ecosystem and become a nourishing meal for Gaia? Isn’t slaughter the whole point? Do we really have to eat the moose?

I know what you’re thinking. This would make us wasteful and unethical hunters, and everyone would despise us. But you only think that because I haven’t mentioned the crucial part of the plan: we wouldn’t tell anyone we did it.

If we cut it up and keep it, where do we put it? Especially me. There is no way 1500 pounds of dead moose will fit in a carry-on. And if we put it on the hood of Mike’s Prius, the front tires will just pop. And if it does run, it will strain the car so much, we’ll have to stop every hundred feet to wind it back up.

Is it okay for a couple of guys who shoot well yet have no other qualifications to go out and play moose sniper, or is it a shameful, presumptuous, disgraceful so on and so forth?

Naturally, I agreed to do it. There was never any question. I just want to know if that was a stupid thing to do. Not that that would change anything.

Speaking of Tred Barta, I have become completely addicted to his show. Even though he picks up absolutely every piece of excrement he sees–even those left by his crew–and fondles it and pets it and holds it right up to his face, and then he eats sandwiches without washing his hands. And the other day he did a nude scene. You think I’m kidding. They had to censor it. Except in Germany. Where they saved it for sweeps week.

I honestly think I would rather hunt with this guy than anyone else in the universe. He is so far beyond insane there isn’t even a word for it. And he’s proud of it. And he hates hippies.

You can turn on any hunting show and watch people do things correctly. Only Barta will shoot a furious grizzly in the face with a bow, from like six feet away. Only Barta will butcher a moose with a chainsaw. Or, wait, maybe that’s the way everyone does it.

I would kill to be this guy’s idiot sidekick, just for the laughs. “Tred, when you were applying shoe polish to your buttocks, you missed a spot.” “Thanks, Steve. If the moose had seen that, our whole day would have been wasted.”

Maybe Mike and I could have a show. Steve and Mike Fail to Kill a Moose. Steve and Mike Fail to Kill a Bear. Steve and Mike Forget the Ammunition and Have Their Clothes Pecked Off by Angry Marsh Hens. Whatever those are. I’m just brainstorming here. Let’s not get hung up on specifics.

As always, I await and treasure your input.

Weird Gun of the Day

I went over to Michael Bane’s blog to see what was going on, and I ended up at Shootinggallery.tv…whoops, no, Downrange.tv, where he has videos posted. One featured a very interesting newish gun: the Taurus Judge. This thing is a 5-shot revolver that will chamber .45 LC and .410 shotgun ammunition. And you can get it with a 3″ barrel. Costs about $500.

People always overestimate how much a shotgun pattern will spread. They don’t fling shot in all directions. Mr. Bane shoots the Judge at what appears to be 7 yards [further reading suggests it may have been more like 7 feet], and it turns out the pattern is the size of a human face. Which is not a coincidence. As I understand it, the beauty of this gun is that it’s harder to miss your assailant. The bad part? It’s not great at long ranges unless you use pistol ammunition. But as the Taurus rep in the video points out, explaining a long-range “defensive” shot to a non-Taurus-made judge could be hard.

Another benefit: a low risk of overpenetration. So you are less likely to shoot your neighbors. Unless that’s what you’re trying to do.

It’s an interesting idea. I don’t know if I agree that there is a great need for a spray-and-pray gun for bedroom distances. If you shoot well, you’re not going to miss at that range, and if you shoot badly–I judge from watching people who can’t hit a damn thing–increasing the hit zone to a diameter of seven inches isn’t going to help too awful much. A bad shooter can miss the target entirely at 7 yards. Mike and I shot the other day, and he told me the guy next to him actually scared him. He was a Miami kid who seemed to have an attitude, which would explain why he figured he didn’t need to be taught how to shoot. He shot so close to the frame, Mike was afraid he was going to catch a rebound.

Look cool, act tough, shoot like a girl. That mystifies me. All the tattoos in the world won’t clean up a mangled target, which is the only thing the other folks at the range will notice.

To get back to the Judge, the positives seem undeniable. It’s a legal sawed-off shotgun, it does more damage than a .357 or .45 ACP, and supposedly, it’s not all that loud. That’s a big plus in a closed space like a car or house.

I’m not in love with the idea of five shots between me and death. I would not want to shoot five times, find that an attacker was still a threat, and then have to break open a revolver and reload. And I feel sure that even if I shot with one hand, no aiming, I could hit a person ten feet away over 90% of the time with my 11-shot Glock. Also, if half of your pellets are in the perp’s face, where do the other half go? Nowhere bad, you hope.

It’s tough to figure out how to defend your house. An automatic shotgun with a laser would be great, but to get any kind of magazine capacity, you have to buy something weird. And the noise and flash would be pretty awful, unless you had a .410. A pistol can put 15-17 consecutive shots at your disposal, but most people can’t shoot, so does that really help?

Saiga makes a 12-gauge shotgun based on the AK-47, and that would be great, if they scaled it down to .410 and kept the big magazine. I have read the magazines go as big as 11 rounds. Unfortunately, they scaled it down and cut the magazine to four rounds. I fail to see the appeal.

I shoot primarily because I like to shoot. Even if the hippies managed to fix it so we couldn’t have guns to protect ourselves, I would still want to shoot, even if I had to go to a ridiculous club and check guns out of a locker. But self-defense is the primary purpose of guns, and I think about it.

I just heard from Mike. It looks like he’s finally going to make a choice. I think he’s getting a Dan Wesson Pointman 7. I feel like I’ve been at the hospital for a month, waiting for a baby to be born. I don’t care if he buys a gun that came in a box of Cracker Jacks. I just want him to buy something so I can go on with my life. And so I can shoot it.

Just This Once

I go outside to transplant tomatoes, and while I’m gone, the world turns upside down. It looks like Hillary Clinton has unearthed (or conjured up, after creating a field of poppies in her crystal ball) a video of Michelle Obama kickin’ it with Louie Farrakhan and using the term “whitey.”

No one has actually seen this video, but I feel completely justified in commenting on it as though it had already been proven to exist and I knew what I was talking about.

People are mad at Michelle Obama. And I think this is reasonable, if only because she reminds me of “Webster.” But aren’t we forgetting the real mastermind? Behold the smoking gun:

Mother: And remember, the Lord loves a working man.

Navin: Lord loves a working man.

Father: And son, don’t never, ever trust whitey.

Navin: Don’t trust whitey. The Lord loves a working man, don’t
trust whitey. (he hugs his mom)

Mother: Ah baby!

Clearly, this scandal has its roots in the childhood home of ruined inventor Navin Johnson. This is where the poison first began to flow. By the way, not many people know this, but Dad Johnson’s first name was Jeremiah.

No, wait. That would make him Jeremiah Johnson.

I feel qualified in issuing an authoritative opinion about this scandal, because I AM, in fact, Whitey. I’m the guy. Other white people talk about how white I am. It amazes them. I have never had a tan. I get sunburned if I stand in front of the refrigerator with the door open for too long.

Here is my question: how come everyone is mad at the Republicans about this? What sane person thinks Republicans had anything to do with it? Sure, we’re dancing arrhythmically with joy. That’s just how we are. Evil. But if you think Hillary isn’t behind this, there is a box containing a thousand stolen FBI files which you need to look at.

You have to give Hillary credit. Ordinarily she’s as tone deaf as Bob Dylan, but this time she managed to stick it to Obama AND smear the blame all over the GOP. And why are the Obama people mad at the Republicans? This is their big chance to out Hillary as the Mud Queen. I realize they want to beat McCain, but Hillary is still blocking the basket.

Uh oh. Basketball metaphor. I apologize once again for my racist attacks on Barack H. Obama. From now on I’ll only refer to white-dominated sports. Like…

Let me get back to you on that.

I can’t wait to see this thing come out. Of course, if Hillary has this video, she also has video of McCain using kittens as potholders. She ought to team up with the CGI people who made Al Gore’s amazing fake video of polar bears–semiaquatic animals–DROWNING. I still can’t get over that. “QUICK, SOMEONE DRAG THOSE HIPPOS UP ON THE BEACH! SOMEONE THROW A LIFESAVER TO THAT CROCODILE!” Oh, yeah. Polar bears drown CONSTANTLY.

I’m still mad that no one laughed at my new name for Gore. This is your second chance: Pope Prius I.

Now we know what Hillary was talking about when she sort of expressed hope that Obama would be assassinated.

I think I’ve made a giant contribution to our understanding of this scandal. Now I have to get back to “hunkering down.” It’s DEADLY KILLER GLOBAL WARMING HURRICANE SEASON.

More

I finally got into the website where the existence of the whitey video is proclaimed, and wonder of wonders, the guy who broke the story says a Republican candidate dug it up! I can’t believe it. So maybe Hillary ISN’T to blame.

In which case, she is probably kicking herself today. How humiliating. Being outsmeared by a gun-clinging supply-sider.

New Bullets!

So far, Oregon Trail has really impressed me. I get great accuracy with their bullets, I have not had leading problems, the price is cheap, and they get stuff to you fast. I ordered some .357 bullets on Thursday, and they’re here. They were having a sale. I suppose some day I’ll go completely insane, as contrasted with my current state of partial sanity, and get into casting bullets. But for now, it’s hard to beat Oregon Trail.

If you know guns, you may be wondering why I’m buying “.357 bullets” when I already have .38 Super bullets, which are nearly the same thing. While I was researching, I got the impression–right or wrong–that bullets should fit a barrel fairly snugly. The .38 Super is supposed to be .356″ in practice. The .357/.38 Special bullet is supposed to be .358″. So I got the bigger bullets. Will it make a difference? Search me.

I chose 125-grain bullets, to mimic defensive loads.

I’m trying to decide what to do to keep the Hornady Lock-N-Load AP from rocking. Tightening the existing bolts won’t do it, and I am fairly sure the bench is not the problem. It may be that bigger-diameter bolts would help; perhaps the flexing is taking place in the bolts themselves.

There’s a place where I could put a plain old C-clamp, holding the front of the press down on the bench. This would almost surely work. But it’s kind of a Jethro Bodine solution. And it would mar up the press. Another answer is to drill a third bolt hole in the base of the press.

Chris Byrne says the Lock-N-Load rocks too much. A knowledgeable reader says the primer feed system on the Lock-N-Load is very vulnerable to spilled powder. That’s a bad combination. If the press rocks, some powder will be spilled from time to time, and guess where it will land? In a place where it will obstruct the doodad that loads the primer into the press. And if you spill enough powder from a cartridge, you could conceivably screw up a load.

Another problem with the rocking is that it will eventually ruin the existing 2-bolt mount. Sooner or later, the lag shields or the bolts or the wood will fatigue, and the press will pop out of the bench, and it will be time to find a new place to mount it.

I’m inclined to go ahead and drill that third hole, although I know I won’t do a pretty job, and I’ll have to take the press apart to do it. I suppose I should try bigger bolts first.

Someone suggested welding up some kind of metal base. But that won’t change anything unless the connection to that base is different from the existing connection to the bench. The press has no anchor at the front end, and a metal base wouldn’t change that.

Apart from the mounting problem, everything seems to work pretty much as advertised. The shell retainer springs fall apart in a hurry, so you need to buy extras, but that’s to be expected. And the decapping pin has a funny way of creeping downward in the sizing die. But the press works. It’s just slow, because of the problems I have to manage while I use it. I have to watch the primers carefully, and every so often, I have to take the press apart and get the excess powder out of it, and I often find myself taking apart rounds that have no primers. Also, I am fairly sure that it’s impossible to get the sizing die to index perfectly every time. Maybe I’m wrong, but it seems like the die sometimes hits a case incorrectly even when the shell plate is lined up. So I have to use the press very tentatively in order to catch it every time it does that. Otherwise, I would mash maybe ten percent of my brass.

I think Hornady may have erred by not putting a ring-shaped primer recess around the bottom of the press, at least as far as the sizing die. The way it is now, the shells sit on a flat surface. If a primer isn’t perfectly flush with a case, the shell leans over. This may be what causes the sizing die to hit the sides of some cases. Unless I am badly deceived, even once-fired factor brass sometimes has bulgy primers. I suppose that’s inevitable, since it’s all used. A Band-Aid solution would be to have separate dies for decapping and sizing, or to decap the shells by hand.

I look forward to reloading for the .357. I would guess that revolvers are less problematic, since they don’t have feeding problems and they can’t lock up. I continue to drool over the Smith & Wesson Model 627. I have a queasy suspicion that the free .357 brass I picked up a while back is actually .38 Special brass. Hope I’m wrong.

Suggestions welcomed.

Contagious!

I know this will upset people. I keep blogging about religion, and readers are getting annoyed.

Well now Maynard is doing it, too.