Hunter
Chasin' the Sunset
Tony, how could you possibly think that post might be inappropriate for this thread? BTW, thanks for sharing.
Shooting-Related, Autobiographical Snippets
- Thread starter Hunter
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tonykharper
Well-known member
Hunter,Tony, how could you possibly think that post might be inappropriate for this thread? BTW, thanks for sharing.
In some forums/threads if you gore someone's sacred cow even by accident, you will pay for it, so I'm gun shy when I make a long post that may do that.
To test the waters or to demonstrate the point, I'm going to make a post here that may or may not do just that. If it does, please let me know and I will delete the post, or you can do it for me.
My introduction to rifle tuning.
One day at the Laughlin AFB range in Del Rio, Texas, (yes, the same Del Rio you hear about on the border), I was shooting a 700 Remington chambered for 7 mm mag. I kept shooting my reloads but nothing was working. When I say working, I was expecting MOA accuracy but wasn't getting anything close to it.
Finally, a guy came over and asked me what I was doing. He must have seen the frustration on my face.
I told him this brand-new rifle just will not shoot. He asked to have a look, I said sure and handed him the rifle.
He took a piece of paper and ran it down the barrel channel and before he finished, I told him. Done, done, that and it is completely free floating. He looked at me and said, "son that could be your problem".
That surprised me. I thought free floating was best for accuracy and told him so. He barked back you don't understand. Free floating may be best for day-to-day consistency but not necessarily for precision accuracy. That confused me even further.
He then pulled out a match book, the paper kind used to light cigarettes, tore off the cover. Folded it twice and slid it between the barrel and stock forearm. Handed me the rifle and said try it now. I did. Believe it or not, I shot my first sub one inch group with that rifle.
Since then, I've spent an extraordinary amount of time and money chasing the "tune" on rifles. I've read all the threads, participated in many of them, and cringed with some of the things being passed off as the "right way to tune a rifle".
In rimfire there has been people that argue that it is one thing to "tune" a rifle and another thing to make it "shoot."
All I've ever wanted is for the rifle to hit where I aimed. Call it what you like. Doesn't matter to me.
A long time ago I came to my own truth about tuning. It has very little to do with turning that thing on the end of the barrel and a lot more to do with ensuring "all" the components of the rifle are preforming and working as they should. This includes stock bedding, trigger adjustment, trigger timing, ignition, scope bases secured, scope level, ammo load selection, and precision assembly, or ammo lot selection.
When all of these things are right you still have the nut behind the bolt. If he, or she, isn't on their game none of the rest of it matters.
TKH
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Hunter
Chasin' the Sunset
Tony, I had been hoping you'd post on this thread; I'm glad that you're doing so — I enjoy reading your stuff.
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Hunter
Chasin' the Sunset
I had a very dear friend (Don) who lived in MT; he, his son, and DIL loved to hunt out there (and other places also). They usually hunted on public land, and usually brought home the “bacon” — his son was/is a VERY good hunter. Oftentimes, Don would send pictures of their hunts to me; that, along with our long-time friendship, was enough to pique my interest in going out there to visit them.
The first trip my wife and I took out there to visit Don was just a short visit; however, it, along with an invitation to come back and hunt with them, was enough to convince me that I wanted to do that. The following year my wife and I went back out there; the plan was for me to go hunting with the three of them for a week or so. The first couple of days was to hunt for antelope in the area of Turner, MT; the remainder of the time was to hunt for elk in the “Breaks.” (I didn’t have an elk tag, but I planned to tag along with the three of them.)
My wife accompanied us on the antelope hunt (well, at least until we actually started walking in search of antelope). The first night, she and I slept in the back of my truck under the camper top; it was pretty chilly that night. I tried to get her to let me slip her sleeping bag inside an old sleeping bag that I had brought along; she was not interested in having her bag touch that old bag. She got cold that night; the next night she was OK with the idea of her bag being inside that old bag.
The first morning, she stayed with my truck as the MT-three and I went walking in search of antelope. (In hindsight, that may not have been a wise thing to do, leaving her out in the middle of nowhere by herself.) The four of us were gone for several hours, during which time I got a nice buck antelope at (as I recall) about 300 yds. with my handloaded ammo — after having belly-crawled for, maybe, 30 yds. to the top of a rise so I could get a shot.
After the antelope hunt, the MT-three and I went to the Breaks for the elk hunt, and my wife drove my truck back to town (about 200 miles), with a skinned antelope carcass in the back; she was to take it to a game processor in town. What an incongruous site that was.
Afterwards, Don skull-mounted the head and sent it to me; it’s hanging where I can see it as I type this. He died several years later of ALS; I drove out to his memorial service, and stay in touch with his family. My wife and I call them our MT family.
The first trip my wife and I took out there to visit Don was just a short visit; however, it, along with an invitation to come back and hunt with them, was enough to convince me that I wanted to do that. The following year my wife and I went back out there; the plan was for me to go hunting with the three of them for a week or so. The first couple of days was to hunt for antelope in the area of Turner, MT; the remainder of the time was to hunt for elk in the “Breaks.” (I didn’t have an elk tag, but I planned to tag along with the three of them.)
My wife accompanied us on the antelope hunt (well, at least until we actually started walking in search of antelope). The first night, she and I slept in the back of my truck under the camper top; it was pretty chilly that night. I tried to get her to let me slip her sleeping bag inside an old sleeping bag that I had brought along; she was not interested in having her bag touch that old bag. She got cold that night; the next night she was OK with the idea of her bag being inside that old bag.
The first morning, she stayed with my truck as the MT-three and I went walking in search of antelope. (In hindsight, that may not have been a wise thing to do, leaving her out in the middle of nowhere by herself.) The four of us were gone for several hours, during which time I got a nice buck antelope at (as I recall) about 300 yds. with my handloaded ammo — after having belly-crawled for, maybe, 30 yds. to the top of a rise so I could get a shot.
After the antelope hunt, the MT-three and I went to the Breaks for the elk hunt, and my wife drove my truck back to town (about 200 miles), with a skinned antelope carcass in the back; she was to take it to a game processor in town. What an incongruous site that was.
Afterwards, Don skull-mounted the head and sent it to me; it’s hanging where I can see it as I type this. He died several years later of ALS; I drove out to his memorial service, and stay in touch with his family. My wife and I call them our MT family.
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dmort
Active member
Most of you know I shoot Whistle Pigs ( Beldon's Ground Squirrel's) on a 1000 acre ranch here in Idaho. The ranch has been in the family since 1862 and has a ton of history. The ranch was much larger at one time but parcels have been sold off by previous generations to make it more manageable,
I haven't shot my Rem 222 for at least a decade and decided I would give it a go this year. I checked the bore again which made me want to put it right back in the safe, but after two trips to the range I could still get nice 3 shot groups....good enough.
Got up at 0 dark 30 and with a beautiful sunrise behind me headed to the ranch The cattle were clear of an area I hadn't shot for two years and the party started.
Stopped at the little country store/cafe for breakfast on the way home . Same elderly folks with cowboy hats and ballcaps and I fit right in.
Life is good.
Mort
I haven't shot my Rem 222 for at least a decade and decided I would give it a go this year. I checked the bore again which made me want to put it right back in the safe, but after two trips to the range I could still get nice 3 shot groups....good enough.
Got up at 0 dark 30 and with a beautiful sunrise behind me headed to the ranch The cattle were clear of an area I hadn't shot for two years and the party started.
Stopped at the little country store/cafe for breakfast on the way home . Same elderly folks with cowboy hats and ballcaps and I fit right in.
Life is good.
Mort
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Hunter
Chasin' the Sunset
In the past, I visited a private rifle range several times that had target boards/steel plates at various yardages out to over 600 yds. (That was my first experience shooting beyond 200 yds.) Even with hearing protection and the gun blast, l could hear the bullet hitting the steel plate over 600 yds. away — that was noteworthy.
One day I took my BIL (who was visiting from out of state) with me to that range. He was shooting a .308; I had two rifles I wanted to shoot — a .270 and a 7mm Remington Magnum. All three of the rifles had a scope, we were each shooting from separate benches, and I was not wearing glasses.
As I rotated shooting my two rifles, I had unboxed cartridges for both rifles laying on my bench. After about 27 shots with the two rifles, I picked up a cartridge and inserted it in the 7 Mag, got lined up on the target and pulled the trigger. BAD NEWS!
Unbeknownst to me (prior to pulling the trigger), I had accidently inserted a .270 cartridge in the 7 Mag. chamber,. In addition to the bottom metal of the magazine being blown open and bent, I got gas/powder burns on my cheek about an inch below my eye. Thankfully, I had been looking through the scope; thus, my eye was enough above the bolt such that the gas/powder went below my eye. I didn’t sustain any eye damage; however, the fired brass was blown apart. (A gunsmith repaired the damage to the rifle.)
There’s a lesson there: Don’t have unboxed ammo on your bench that’s not intended for the gun you’re currently shooting, and always wear eye protection when you shoot.
One day I took my BIL (who was visiting from out of state) with me to that range. He was shooting a .308; I had two rifles I wanted to shoot — a .270 and a 7mm Remington Magnum. All three of the rifles had a scope, we were each shooting from separate benches, and I was not wearing glasses.
As I rotated shooting my two rifles, I had unboxed cartridges for both rifles laying on my bench. After about 27 shots with the two rifles, I picked up a cartridge and inserted it in the 7 Mag, got lined up on the target and pulled the trigger. BAD NEWS!
Unbeknownst to me (prior to pulling the trigger), I had accidently inserted a .270 cartridge in the 7 Mag. chamber,. In addition to the bottom metal of the magazine being blown open and bent, I got gas/powder burns on my cheek about an inch below my eye. Thankfully, I had been looking through the scope; thus, my eye was enough above the bolt such that the gas/powder went below my eye. I didn’t sustain any eye damage; however, the fired brass was blown apart. (A gunsmith repaired the damage to the rifle.)
There’s a lesson there: Don’t have unboxed ammo on your bench that’s not intended for the gun you’re currently shooting, and always wear eye protection when you shoot.
Hunter
Chasin' the Sunset
Around the time of my son's one-and-done hunt (see post # 6 on page 1), his interest in guns increased and he bought a bunch of guns (including a 300 Wby.) and scopes. One day he and a buddy went to an indoor range and my son took the Wby. (on which he had mounted a scope). Later that day he called and told me he was in the ER with a cut eyebrow. I felt badly for him and drove to the hospital to see him; when I got there he was laying in the ER, feeling a bit sheepish I suspect.
There’s a lesson there: Give the scope-mounted, big boomers plenty of eye relief.
There’s a lesson there: Give the scope-mounted, big boomers plenty of eye relief.
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dmort
Active member
When I worked in the woods I had the advantage of spotting deer most of the year. Some of them I hoped to see again in the fall when my dad came over to hunt. My father wasn't the best off hand shooter and I ended shooting most or all of the deer. He was getting up in years and not getting around like he used to. One year he came up and we hiked in to where I had seen a nice 3 point. Dad saw the deer first and got off a shot, the deer flinched but didn't go down so I fired. Turns out he had shot it in the ear but missed the head and this was the second time he had done that! We weren't hunting that far from home so we skinned it out in the wood shed. Long story short we got two more that day so we had one tag left.
My dad always stuck around to do things other than hunt deer so we would cut and split firewood, cut and split cedar for fence rails and have a couple brews while doing so. The thing he really liked to do was to fish and I knew a great stretch of water accessible by 4x4 that I took him into once and he had his limit of 10 fish in little over an hour.
My plan was to wait until near the end of dear season when things settled down and put him on a deer by himself. I had spotted a big 3 point below an old foot trail earlier that year and he was laying in the shade above a spring, and that spring made a little waterfall off of the cutbank on a road about 800 ft. below. I told him what the plan was and put him on the trail. It didn't take log and I heard a shot and when my dad didn't show up I started the truck and took off. When I met him he was grinning ear to ear. The deer had nice spread and was heavy and once we got him onto the truck bed we stood in the road hugging each other.
I have my fathers rifle, and in my mind I can still hear that shot echo in the woods. A great memory.
Mort
My dad always stuck around to do things other than hunt deer so we would cut and split firewood, cut and split cedar for fence rails and have a couple brews while doing so. The thing he really liked to do was to fish and I knew a great stretch of water accessible by 4x4 that I took him into once and he had his limit of 10 fish in little over an hour.
My plan was to wait until near the end of dear season when things settled down and put him on a deer by himself. I had spotted a big 3 point below an old foot trail earlier that year and he was laying in the shade above a spring, and that spring made a little waterfall off of the cutbank on a road about 800 ft. below. I told him what the plan was and put him on the trail. It didn't take log and I heard a shot and when my dad didn't show up I started the truck and took off. When I met him he was grinning ear to ear. The deer had nice spread and was heavy and once we got him onto the truck bed we stood in the road hugging each other.
I have my fathers rifle, and in my mind I can still hear that shot echo in the woods. A great memory.
Mort
Hunter
Chasin' the Sunset
Good memories are good. Reminds me of the quote: "God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December."