Everyone, tell us a story!

[boredelmo]

Okay, I have figured out that I love to read interesting stories and experiences on THR and various other forums.

Hopefully everyone can just post up an interesting story related to Firearms, the kind of story you'd tell to a group of your friends on a casual poker night or whatnot.

I don't have a terribly interesting story, but this should do:

I had decided that the day I turn 18 I was going to pop my shooting virginity and head to the shooting range myself. I looked through my dad's gun collection and picked out the "neater" guns, a Sig p220, an Uzi carbine, and a Mac 11. I had pulled up my car to the front because navigating the weapons through the back door would be somewhat of a hassle. My dad didn't have any cases for these particular guns. This hit me as a problem as I had the Mac11 and Uzi in each hand about to walk out the front door. I thought about everything and figured all of my actions were legal and that it was only 10 feet to my driveway. I even jokingly said to myself "What? a cop is going to suddenlydrive by in this neighborhood?" Sure enough, just as i walked out with two very evil looking guns, a patrol car happily whizzes by. I think my heart completely stopped. Then I overcame my needless shock and laughed all the way to the range. I'm glad the cop didn't notice, because that would have been a lot of explaining.

Of course your stories don't have to be anything along my lines, just any funny or interesting story about you or a friend you can think of.

Eagerly waiting for reading material,

-Elmer

 

[Smite]

This is a good one, happened a good while back when I had first checked in.

If you can picture this.

Little me, sitting in the back of an armory, no supervision, whatever. I was confident enough though, and my supervisor was still coming down off of a horrendous hangover as usual, so I wanted to avoid talking to him at all costs.

Anyways, My job was to perform some 28 day inspections on these M240s we got, sexy.

Anyways, I was still having multiple orgasms at the thought that I was working in a room filled with brand new machineguns all day, I was like a fat kid in a candy store. So I wasn't paying nearly as much attention as I should have been, and the CLP fumes, oooh they were strong.

So here I am putting this 240 back together. For those people that aren't too familiar with it, its the most retard-proof weapon I've ever handled. Still, I managed to screw things up. Theres basically one main assembly inside of the weapon, which is taken out through the back plate. The 240, as well as the .50 cal also has this rediculously high tension spring in the back. I've seen a spring from a .50 cal fly out while it was completely compressed and crack a SAPI plate from inside the guys vest. They are very very very strong.


Anyways, I realize I'm a bit long winded here, so to to cut short a long story, out of pure ignorance and an thorough idiot giving me bad directions, I managed to shoot that rather large spring I was talking about earlier Directly into my face, straight into the nose regions in particular from about 4 feet away.

All the sergeant said he heard from his desk 30 feet away was a KA-THOINGG followed by a loud THUNK, once more followed rather quickly by a "ahhhhh ****!!!!! "

Luckily the spring didn't go two inches higher or lower, I'd be out an eye or a couple of teeth. A busted up nose I can deal with. Mind you, if it was the .50 cal spring, I'd be a dead man, luckily it was just with the 240.


Needless to say, I'm very very wary were those springs are pointed at now and am a bit more wisened up.:banghead:

 

[Molon Labe]

Here's a story: I once had a .308 rifle blow up in my face. It was not a fun experience.

 

[michiganfan]

I had an aftermarket dust cover/scpoe mount for an AK. Put in on the gun. Went to the range and on the first round a piece of metal failed and the cover flies back and the scope hits me above the eye. Bleeding like a stuck pig. Range officer comes over and has to apply a couple of butterfly strips to stop the bleeding.

 

[hankpac]

Ya want a story?

When my wife and I had been married about a month, we decided to go camping.
We were poor students then, so we didn't have much money. We stopped at a State park, and they wanted 20 bucks to go camping. I said forget it, and we drove into the forest on a dirt road. We found a nice place on a creek, with a table and a cleared area covered with Pumice sand.
After we set up our two person wedge tent, and had supper, we lay partway out of the tent reading and talking until it got dark.
We heard some twigs snapping in a pine tree way near the top. I shined a light up there but it was too weak to make out what was up there. Eventually the animal came down enough to see it was a young bear, about 200 lbs. It got all the way to the ground, and acted quite nervous, but I was able to shoo it off.
My wife wanted to leave, but I said we'd be alright, that he probably scooted out of there, since we were there.
she didn't feel too good about that, so I said we could sleep in shifts, each taking half the night. She said OK, but was talking to my back as I had turned over, and dropped off to sleep immediately.
She woke me at midnight, Which meant I had about two hours sleep. She said it was my turn, and I said "Hey, that's not fair". I was talking to her back, as she had turned over and dropped of immediately. Hmmm.
so I stayed up all night, reading, and watching the stars. She slept on her back, her long hair spread around her head like a halo.
It started getting light, in the treetops, so I thought, Hey, it's morning. That bear had to have gone to bed, and was long gone.
I started to settle over on my side, facing the tent wall, and had just got shrugged down into a good position, when I felt like something was watching me.
I turned my head back, and slightly rolled my shoulders.
There was that bear, standing on my wife's hair, sniffing last night's brownies on her breath, and looking down his nose at me, now that I had turned back to see what was going on.
Oh Crap!!, I screamed as loud as I could, spun in my bed, and slammed my left fist dead on his nose. His eyes watered up, and he sat back on his haunches, sneezing, and blowing bloody snot, shaking his head. I got up on my knees, and began shouting at the bear to git, pounding on the ground, and yelling.
Earlier that night I had gathered up some pumice stones about the size of my fist, but these bounced off him like pingpong balls. toatlly ineffective.
He staggered off into the creek and began to slosh his was downstream, still sneezing bloody snot.
I turned to check my wife and she was gone!
I callled her name several times before I heard a muffled "Is he gone?"
I lifted the end of the sleeping bag, and saw her huddled into the foot of the bag, in a little ball. I told her he was gone, and she shot out of there, and started to disasemble thet ent, collapsing it ontop of itself, with bags and books and our clothes still in it. We didnt stop to get dressed until we got down the road a bit.
That was the last time I ever went camping without a firearm.

 

[El Tejon]

Working behind the gun counter at Galyan's Trading Post in Indianapolis during undergrad summer of 1989. Hired at the "firearms expert" at age 20, *snicker*.

While showing a customer how to field strip and reassemble the weapon, holding the slide and barrel at a 45 degree angle, I shot the guide rod on a Glock 17 (this was before the one piece assembly) across the department.

The rod was deflected by fishing rods on top of the aisles. We found it during a weekend department clean up 2 or 3 weeks later in the Uncle Josh's pork rind baits.

I was called "Glockman" all summer. Thanks goodness I did not hit the customer.:banghead:

 

[The Rifleman]

I was told that the toilet was stole at the local police station yesterday.

The police said they don't have anything to go on....

 

[Alexfubar]

I was a teenage skateboarder 25 years ago. Our gang went their own ways of course over time.

I ran into Matt at HomeDepot a few weeks ago. He'd gone grey and half bald and, well, a little round. He told me he'd run into Andy - another guy from way back when. Andy has become a Sihk : an Indian Religious ... thing. They wear turbans , don't cut their hair or shave.

Both still had skateboards and went out to skate in the streets in a small city where we are ( Salem Ma. ). Within a few minutes they run into a pack of street urchin skate-rat teenagers.

The teenage skaters just stare , motionless at these two guys. Then one yells out : " No F..king Way! it's Dick Cheney and Osama "

 

[kennedy]

I was hunting deer with my 30-30 and shot one, went up to it and put my lic tag in its ear, but it was not dead, it got up and ran away. Shortly I hear a shot and run towards the sound. There is another hunter standing over my deer. I say hey thats my deer, and he says oh yea prove it, and I show him my tag in the ear. He says, man, if you can run fast enought to tag a live deer on the run, you can have him!! (old story told at the hunting camps)

 

[Atticus]

It was a dark stormy night....well not really...kinda nice actually. I was home alone, at the age of twelve or so, and decided to try out a homemade potato silencer that I had heard about. It was about 9:00 pm, but I decided that the neighbors wouldn't hear anything anyway, what with a silencer and all. So, I screw the spud onto the barrel of my .22 Marlin and stand between our house and the neighbor's house - so no one will see me either. BLAM. There goes the potato into about a million pieces, and there goes me into the house like greased lightning.
The neighbors loved me back then....I also eliminated most of those pesky songbirds that were always trying to steal their birdseed. Amazingly, 35 years later, they still say hi to me when I visit my mom.

 

[billp]

bad 22-250 load

I loaded some .22-250 shells with imr 4895 during winter in the 1980s.

Shot fine in rem 788 .22-250.

Then I shot same rounds in about 80 degree F weather.

C:\don\don2\bad22250.jpg

Bolt handle broken off trying to remove cartridge.

788 sent to remington .... with LONG letter of explanation.

remington fixed free.

i've had equally good experience with Savage [broken 311] and S&W [multiply broken] 22A.

Now I'm trying to avoid unfortunate experiences with stevens .223 model 200 using varget and 55 gr v-max bullets.

I'm a bit worried about loading near max in about 50 F temperature, then firing the same rounds at about 90 F in New Mexico.

regards

all of this shooting stuff comes under essential non-gas-wasting travel, of course!

 

[Kalashnikov]

Ok here mine:

Stuch bolt on my 91/30. Never heard of ot before in my life! Anyways, I take it down, pull all the rounds out, and proceed to beat on it as hard as I can. Nothing is gettin this bolt to unlock. Suddenly my buddy comes up to me with an AK 30 rounder. One good whack and the bolt unlocks, thats why I love russian guns. If one dont work, use parts from the other to fix it. Anyways thats not the best part. When I get the casing out, it comes out in two nice little peices, completly seperated down the middle from the rim to the neck. ***?

 

[MSgt B]

I've got a few really good ones, but I need to wait until I retire before I can tell them.

Sorry.

 

[gbran]

A little dark, but here goes...........

Back in '91, my ex wife (she was ex then), shot her boyfreind 5 times in my kitchen with my .357 5 inch Smith. She actually fired 6 times with one bullet hitting my new refiridgerator. It was loaded with 125 grain JHP's. All shots were center mass, but he managed to take them all upright before he collapsed. She said he faught with her even after the last shot. Of the 5 shots to him, only 2 exited. The cops dug 1 bullet out of my fridge, 1 from the wall and 1 from a cabinet.

I was at work when it happened. It was left to me to clean the mess. She got off on self defense, which I didn't believe, but couldn't prove. He died before the ambulance arrived.

 

[Whitewolf 508]

The one and only time I fired a .44 magnum I had my elbows bent a little too much. The gun recoiled upand back and I got whacked HARD in the forehead. It hurt quite a bit but I swallowed my pride. I handed the gun back to my friend and decided to go home before I did anything else stupid. When I stopped to pay the toll at the bridge, the lady tolltaker started screaming. My forehead was covered with blood from the front site digging in but I was still dazed enough not even to notice it. I stopped at a gas station and washed off before I went home and terrified my wife. Still have the scar and , oh yeah, I don't bend my elbows anymore.

 

[md7]

my wife and i had just returned home from our honeymoon. it was really late when we got home, and both of us were exhausted. we went in and went straight to sleep. about 2 hours later, my wife wakes me up, she is shaking, and obviously scared. she said that she heard voices outside our window. i listened and heard them too! (because we had just moved in, we didn't have curtains over the windows, we just made do with towels tacked to the wall over the windows, you couldn't see out or in.) normally, i would have called 911, then grabbed my Glock 23 and investigated, but we had just returned from our trip,and our new house did not have a land line. so i skipped the 911 part, went to the Glock 23 part, and stepped outside to see what was happening. i opened the door stepped out into the car port, and the first thing that hits me are the flashing lights from a deputies car. because i had the towels over the windows, i did not see their flashing lights. so here i am, in my under wear, with a pistol, looking at a couple of deputies that just found out there is a guy in underwear with a gun just a few feet from them. AWKWARD! i thought nothing good is going to come of this, then i heard " hey mark, cute boxers you got on there!" it was a deputy that i go to church with. they had pulled over a drunk driver and were putting him in the patrol car, and a tow truck was coming in to get the drunk guys car. the voices i heard were the deputies and an intruder. all of this was happening in my yard! you gotta love small towns!

 

[22-rimfire]

Your story reminded me of a very crappy experience. We had recently moved into a new house in a good neighborhood. I got home from an extended work effort about 300 miles away just prior to Christmas in my pickup. I had all the christmas presents for my wife and so forth in the truck. It was late, so I left the truck locked and parked outside in the driveway and planned on unloading in the morning. I get up the next day and I see clothes strung down the street, the back window of my truck gone, stuff thrown everywhere, and all the presents gone. One item was a Glock 23 which bugged me. Anyway, call the police and they don't even come out to the house.... let the insurance company take care of it..... All told, I lost at least $5000 worth of stuff that night and I learned a valuable lesson. Never leave your vehicle outside the garage over night if you can park it in the garage. No I didn't turn it in on insurance. Most of the receipts were still in the bags with the presents.

 

[History Prof]

Mine is similar to the OP's: and isn't even really mine. I had a friend in college who was in ROTC. This guy loved guns, and so did everybody in his family. Problem for this story is that he is black and lived near (but not in) a not-so-good neighborhood. His older brother came to the house to show off his new AK-47, and my friend was checking it out sighting down the street when he notices dead in his sights is a police car. It took a while to prove that they lived there and that the AK was legal.

 

[MachIVshooter]

A couple years ago at our hunting camp, I gave everyone a good laugh. ANd gave myself a long-lasting reminder.

We usually have a fairly large camp of 2-4 big tents, along with one of those portable showers. We keep the shower on one of the trailers, since it has no bottom. THe shower is basically a 4x4x7' tent with a hole for the nozzle, and uses a propane heater outside drawing from whatever source you have and recirculating it in a cooler or somesuch. Anyway, you're not supposed to use any type of heater in these things. Well, at 12,000 feet in late October in the Rockies, it gets frigid by evening, so we ignore the warning and use the heater. Knowing full well this little propane heater was there and making every effort to avoid it, I kept soap and shampoo on the other side of the shower. When I carefully bent to set the the shampoo down, I had my eyes closed to keep the soap out. Well, I stepped on the soap bar and lost my balance. I fell backward and landed directly on the heater. You can guess where it went. That little sucker was so hot, I heard and smelled it before I felt a thing. The skin came off instantly. I spent the next half hour sitting in a snow bank with my pants around my ankles. Still have the scar.

 

[Glockfan.45]

One of the few times I ever bump fired a gun was the day I got my WASR10. Took it and 250 rounds of wolf out to the family farm, walked down into a holler, and proceded to burn up some ammo just for grins. Well as it turns out some people down the road called the sheriffs dept to report "machinegun fire". By the time a deputy made it out I was finished and walking up out of the woods. Deputy takes one look at me with AK in hand and draws his pistol before either of us ever say a word. I have never set a gun down so carefully in my life. A few minutes later I finally get to turn around and take my hands off my head only to spend the next half hour or so trying to explain to a gun ignorant deputy that my gun was not full auto. It wasnt untill another officer showed up that knew what the deal was that I was able to load up and go home.

 

[RNB65]

Many years ago when I was in college it was late on Christmas eve. My mother was peeking out the bedroom window (looking for Santa???) and saw someone breaking into our neighbor's car. She rushed into the living room and alerted us. My Dad was getting ready for bed and was wearing nothing but boxer shorts. We both grabbed handguns out of the closet and went flying out the door. We came face to face with the thief as he came around the side of our house with a couple of our neighbor's Christmas gifts in hand. His eyes were as big as saucers when he suddenly found himself staring down the barrels of a couple of .38 revolvers, one being held by a fat, bald white man in boxer shorts and bare feet. Mom called a couple of other neighbors over and Dad ducked back into the house long enough to get dressed. We held the thief at gunpoint until a couple of Sheriff Deputies arrived to take him away. It turned out the guy was only 15 and the juvi judge let him off with nothing but a warning.

 

[FunYet]

The first time I ever shot a semi auto (granddad's Woodsman) I wasn't informed that you don't put your thumb behind the slide to steady the gun. Ouch!

 

[frostbiker]

Worst Hunting Trip...Ever!

The worst hunting trip I ever had was many centuries ago. I was 13 or 14 and hunting spring turkeys at our lease near south central Texas. I head out that morning to hunt a very good spot and the weather was so nice I opted to hunt a makeshift groundblind near the deer stand I was to use. At daybreak I hear a couple of gobblers in the distance and decide it was high time to lure them in. I commence to calling and didn't have to wait long for action.

I was paying attention to the direction of the gobblers and felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I shift position from the tree I was leaning against and look to my left. Down a little wash in the sendero were two coyotes attracted to my calls. They were approximately 65 yards away. I slowly raised my rifle and took aim at the lead coyote. He dropped like a hot potato and his buddie took off running for the next county like his fur was on fire. I cycled the bolt immediately and got a sight picture on number two. He was about 350 yards and moving. I guesstimated where to put the crosshairs and squeezed off a shot. Clean miss as the bullet struck somewhere to the front of the coyote.

I moved positions twice more trying to entice the gobblers out but had no joy. I headed back to camp to get some grub and see if dad shot anything while hunting the 'fart bag'.

He woke groggily when I came into the trailer and asked what the heck the crap was all over my face. "Oh, it's just camo face paint, Dad," I said. He said I used too much black on one side of my face and promptly rolled over back to sleep.

I went to wash up and noticed that from my right eyebrow to my chin was covered in blood. I washed up as best I could and noticed I cut my eyebrow on the scope when I shot the coyotes. In my excitement I crept too close to the scope and whacked myself good.

To this day, I still have a slight scar and it looks like my eyebrow has a part in it.

 

[CNYCacher]

When I was really young, we lived in the suburbs, houses one on top of the other. The guy who lived next door was a hunter of all sorts, and hunted deer with my dad from time to time.

So one night, this guy decides he is going to dispatch a rabbit who has been sneaking into the back yard at night and messing up his wife's flowers.

So, to kill a rabbit that you don't want to keep, a 12-gauge blast of #4 shot would be very effective except people who live 30 feet from their neighbors will generally frown upon shotguns going off at 11 pm. Now how do you kill a rabbit when you live in suburbia? Well, if you are our hero from this story, you decide that the best course of action is to hide on the upper level of your two-story back deck with your deer-hunting bow (it's so quiet, donchaknow), and wait for the floppy-eared transgressor to show his fluffy tail.

Eventually the moment of truth arrives. Our hero fires one arrow almost straight down from the deck high above the rabbit, and manages to shoot him through the side, pinning him to the ground by just a small amount of skin. The rabbit promptly tries to run away but can only manage to run around and around the arrow in a circle, the whole time doing that "dying rabbit" scream which sounds so much like a murder in progress.

By the time we got out of the house to see what was going on, half the neighborhood was opening their doors in their pajamas and that rabbit was just about dead in the center of what could only be described as a small arrow forest, which our neighbor had quickly built trying to silence the animal. It turns out he can't shoot at moving rabbits under stress half as well as he can shoot at still rabbits. He didn't score the second hit, which was the killing shot, until he had no less than 8 arrows in the ground.

The police were already on their way at this point.

He tried to pull all the arrows out of the ground and dispose of the body before anyone saw what had happened, but obviously he didn't. Some people like my family just laughed. Others were less amused.

 

[boredelmo]

OMG about the bunny. That sucks, sounds like torture for the lil critter that just wanted to play among some flowers.