When we got back from the desert
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killslowly bought me a rifle. For those who care it was a Remington 700 in 30-06. I wanted a .308, but wasn't willing to wait for one to be delivered. There are advantages to 30-06 (mostly that the longer case make it easier to play with how it's loaded; i.e. to make special loads which are suited to what one wants to do), but the reason was more that he was buying me a toy, and like any kid at Christmas, I wanted it now.
He bought himself a nice rifle in .308 (My preference for .308 isn't some intrinsic preference for the round; though it's ballistics are comparable to 30-06, and modern powders allow a great deal of play in loads, but rather that I have a rifle in .308 and wanted to keep my logistics train simple), and we went to the range to zero them.
He had a nice (and pricey) scope. I had insisted (being a braces and belt sort of guy) on getting a rifle with iron sights. I could always add glass later, but if the glass gets borked, I want to have back up. So we doped it in, and verfied that mine would hit the target (rear notch and front bar, I was holding 2 MOA, acceptable, all things considered). We spent the time, and discovered I have the same zero he does, which means we can swap, scoped, rifles.
A couple of weeks ago another friend asked me to dope the rifle he inheirited from his father, which gave me an excuse to buy mounts for the scope I had (it was on sale, so I overscoped a .22 rifle, because it was too good a deal to pass up) and sight in the 700 (for those who don't know a, slightly, modified Remington 700 is the M-24 sniper rifle, use by both the U.S. Marine Corps and the Army. For less than half the price, I have at least as accurate a rilfe as
killslowly.
Today I went to the range and did the work.
My friend's rifle is also in 30-06. It's a sporterized 1903 Springfield, the issue rifle from 1903, to the late '30s, when the Garand replaced it. So I had some ammo left over from when I checked the issue sights on my rifle. Since then I've talked to a friend, who is also an ammunition maker; very good, and had some ammo tailor made. I took 50 rds of that, and a box of commercial ammo for my friends rifle.
Shooting is a zen-art. One must become larger than oneself, so that one can become non-existent.
The release of the powder is sudden. The movement of the finger must be smooth, and not sudden, but the fall of the hammer is an instant.
At that moment sight, the rifle, the finger, the target and the bullet become one. That moment is the whole of time.
Preparing for this is simple. Walk the target to where one wants it (for this test, 100 meters was enough), look through the barrel and see that the target is, roughly, centered; look through the scope and see where the crosshairs fall. Ajdust the one to the other.
Load a couple of rounds, and pull the trigger.
Like most simple things it isn't easy. The apparent bore/scope sight relationship is
always off. With iron sights it never takes me more than 10 shots to be on target (assuming they are at the neutral setting for the rifle). For my rifle it took 20 rounds. Not too bad, but not trivial, because I've not put a pad on the butt, and Charles and I built ammo which is accurate, and effective, to about 800 meters (at which point I need better optics than I intend to spend money on, and a whole lot more time at the range), so I was aware I'd fired a few rounds.
I am not recoil sensitive. The only rifle I have ever fired which gave me pause was a lever action carbine in 45-70, loaded to the max (405 grain slug, doing 1,850 feet per second at when it left the muzzle of an 18 inch barrel. That fucker hurt. Two rounds and I was done. It would be perfectly adequate to stop a Cape Buffalo), but this sort of shooting isn't that which puts the butt against my most padded parts.
My friends rifle was much nicer to shoot, which was a good thing because I had to go through 45 rounds to get it zeroed. The 20 rounds of left-over ammo, and 24 rounds of the stuff for my rifle.
So, when all was said and done, I'd put 70 rounds of stuff with some kick, and a few rounds (maybe forty) of some .308, because I wanted to use up some ammo in the footlocker.
It was a good afternoon. Shooting air rifle, or .22 is sublime. There is a sense of connection when the noise happens, but there is no out of body moment. With a .30 caliber weapon the moment of release is overwhelming. The eyes close, the whole of sensation is lost in the noise and the pressure. The moving dust in the distance, and the sense of awe; at how much energy was spent, are grace notes.
The target is just feedback on the self-control.
I also cooked today. Yesterday was Barry's birthday. His family got him some Jamaiacan Blue Mountain coffee. This morning I made breakfast.
Some eggs (mostly from our chickens) some basil (from those growing around the "Not Chardonnay" grape), some bacon, a slice of sourdough, and a bit of huntsman cheese (double gloucester cloaking two inclusions of stilton).
For supper I made a quick and dirty soup (Campbell's cream of potato, with chicken stock, instead of water; when it's hot, a bit of black pepper, and a dash of heavy cream. With more time I'd have cooked some more potato in the stock, and added some leeks), and grilled cheese sandwiches; the same sourdough, some Port Mahon and torn leaves of basil.
But my hands hurt. They've been niggling at me for a couple of weeks, so I think I am having a minor (I hope minor) flare of my Reiter's.
If I am, well I have some drugs, and it might encourage me to contact the VA. If not, well it must be some odd aspect of typing, and it will fade.
Pictures of the praying mantids (we have had a bumper crop of them, and I have taken several hundred pictures) and anything of interest from our trip to the LA County Fair tomorrow.
