Poper
Member
Last weekend I donated time to our gun club to sight-in other people's hunting rifles. I was really impressed with the the great variety of manufacturers, models, actions, calibers and quality of rifles I saw and shot in just a few hours. Several .308's, a couple 7mmRM, a .300 RUM, a couple .30-06's, and then a CZ 500 African in .375 H&H with 300 grain solids.
That one gave me head ache. Took a full 24 hours to get rid of it, too.
It took me a full 6 rounds to get that bugger zeroed because it was so far off target. Once I got it zeroed, I fired a second round into the bull that was about 1/2 a diameter off the first round at 7 o'clock. I asked the owner, a young guy probably late 20's if he wanted to shoot it. Sure he says. I set him up at my rest setup. His round just touched mine at 1:00. "Nice group." I says. "Try another one." Boom! Low right about 3" at 4:00. "I think you might have flinched a little. Go ahead and try one more."
"No. I've had enough of that!"
Then there was the fellow with a brand spanking new Winchester Super Shadow in .300 Winchester Magnum. New scope, new ammo, new gun, new case, new sling, the whole shebang. Gift from his wife for his birthday in September. "Does she have a sister?" I asked.
"Yeah, but she's married."
"Just my luck. Don't suppose my wife would like it if I brought her home, anyway."
Two rounds and he was zeroed. He fired three rounds and thought that was enough.
The biggest surprise of the day was an old Marlin 336 that an 83 year old grandfather brought by for us to sight-in. I was handed the job.
The old timer, I call him an old timer because he has 20 years on me, handed me this beat up lever gun with an old, old Weaver 4x scope. I mean this scope was old! Older than the old 4x steel tubed Weaver scope on my old Savage 340 in .222 rem. that I know was put on that gun used in 1967. I was there when the gunsmith drilled and tapped the side of the receiver for the side mount.
That old Marlin has definitely seen some serious use in its day. The stock was beat up and most of the finish was worn thin. The bluing was about 60% and worn thin, mostly where it had been handled. Scratches everywhere! But no rust.
I checked the barrel for obstruction with my bore light, shining it through onto a clean, white shop towel, then looked into the bore. Shiny. No pits. No rust.
Then I proceeded to check all the mount screws and rings screws. Nice and tight. I checked his ammo. It was old. Probably from the 1970's, maybe 1960's. Old green and white box Remington Kleenbore .35 Remington. The cases were tarnished, but clean and not corroded. Checked the caliber roll mark. .35 Rem. She appears good to go.
Placed the critter on my sand bag rest. Removed my eyeglasses and put on my shooting glasses and ear protection. Checked the owner for the same.
Placed the first round into the chamber and levered the bolt closed. A couple deep breaths, let out most of the last one, get the sight picture perfect, squeeeeezzze. Bang! Smooth trigger! Check the target in the spotting scope. About 1 bullet diameter right of 12 o'clock, 1.5" high. I placed the empty cartridge standing up on the target board at the rear of my table to indicate where the bullet struck.
"She looks good to me." I said. "How's that for you?"
"Another one. Shoot it again."
"Yes, sir. You got it." Repeat performance. Round #2 cut about an eighth of the first hole at 11:30. I placed the empty case on the board touching the other one and said: "It clipped hole number one about here. I think she's shooting just fine."
" 'Nuther one", he says as he points down range with a bony, arthritis bent finger.
Repeat. Clips the very edge of the first hole at 2 O'clock. Placed the third case appropriately. "Wanna sell it?" I asked with a grin as I handed it to him muzzle up, levered open.
"Nice shootin', young man. I can't see to shoot that good anymore. That's why I come by here every year, just to be sure she's still up to snuff. My great grandson gets to hunt this fall and this is what he's gonna carry. All of the boys carried it 'til they got their first deer. Then they git to choose their gun."
"Wanna sell it?" I repeated.
The old boy chuckled through his white stubble and big ear-to-ear grin. "I reckon not. Might cause a re'-volt among the kids. Thank you again for proving it'll still shoot, young man."
"Anytime. I love shooting any gun that will shoot like that. Will I see you next year?"
"Probly." He turned and slowly shuffled away...
That old boy made my day.
That one gave me head ache. Took a full 24 hours to get rid of it, too.
It took me a full 6 rounds to get that bugger zeroed because it was so far off target. Once I got it zeroed, I fired a second round into the bull that was about 1/2 a diameter off the first round at 7 o'clock. I asked the owner, a young guy probably late 20's if he wanted to shoot it. Sure he says. I set him up at my rest setup. His round just touched mine at 1:00. "Nice group." I says. "Try another one." Boom! Low right about 3" at 4:00. "I think you might have flinched a little. Go ahead and try one more."
"No. I've had enough of that!"
Then there was the fellow with a brand spanking new Winchester Super Shadow in .300 Winchester Magnum. New scope, new ammo, new gun, new case, new sling, the whole shebang. Gift from his wife for his birthday in September. "Does she have a sister?" I asked.
"Yeah, but she's married."
"Just my luck. Don't suppose my wife would like it if I brought her home, anyway."
Two rounds and he was zeroed. He fired three rounds and thought that was enough.
The biggest surprise of the day was an old Marlin 336 that an 83 year old grandfather brought by for us to sight-in. I was handed the job.
The old timer, I call him an old timer because he has 20 years on me, handed me this beat up lever gun with an old, old Weaver 4x scope. I mean this scope was old! Older than the old 4x steel tubed Weaver scope on my old Savage 340 in .222 rem. that I know was put on that gun used in 1967. I was there when the gunsmith drilled and tapped the side of the receiver for the side mount.
That old Marlin has definitely seen some serious use in its day. The stock was beat up and most of the finish was worn thin. The bluing was about 60% and worn thin, mostly where it had been handled. Scratches everywhere! But no rust.
I checked the barrel for obstruction with my bore light, shining it through onto a clean, white shop towel, then looked into the bore. Shiny. No pits. No rust.
Then I proceeded to check all the mount screws and rings screws. Nice and tight. I checked his ammo. It was old. Probably from the 1970's, maybe 1960's. Old green and white box Remington Kleenbore .35 Remington. The cases were tarnished, but clean and not corroded. Checked the caliber roll mark. .35 Rem. She appears good to go.
Placed the critter on my sand bag rest. Removed my eyeglasses and put on my shooting glasses and ear protection. Checked the owner for the same.
Placed the first round into the chamber and levered the bolt closed. A couple deep breaths, let out most of the last one, get the sight picture perfect, squeeeeezzze. Bang! Smooth trigger! Check the target in the spotting scope. About 1 bullet diameter right of 12 o'clock, 1.5" high. I placed the empty cartridge standing up on the target board at the rear of my table to indicate where the bullet struck.
"She looks good to me." I said. "How's that for you?"
"Another one. Shoot it again."
"Yes, sir. You got it." Repeat performance. Round #2 cut about an eighth of the first hole at 11:30. I placed the empty case on the board touching the other one and said: "It clipped hole number one about here. I think she's shooting just fine."
" 'Nuther one", he says as he points down range with a bony, arthritis bent finger.
Repeat. Clips the very edge of the first hole at 2 O'clock. Placed the third case appropriately. "Wanna sell it?" I asked with a grin as I handed it to him muzzle up, levered open.
"Nice shootin', young man. I can't see to shoot that good anymore. That's why I come by here every year, just to be sure she's still up to snuff. My great grandson gets to hunt this fall and this is what he's gonna carry. All of the boys carried it 'til they got their first deer. Then they git to choose their gun."
"Wanna sell it?" I repeated.
The old boy chuckled through his white stubble and big ear-to-ear grin. "I reckon not. Might cause a re'-volt among the kids. Thank you again for proving it'll still shoot, young man."
"Anytime. I love shooting any gun that will shoot like that. Will I see you next year?"
"Probly." He turned and slowly shuffled away...
That old boy made my day.
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