Pulling the lever on the Dillon. Sigh...gotta keep the babies fed!
I got a good question from a regular commenter, Kmitch200, on the previous post: You have a gun that shoots a round that would bankrupt a rich man, kicks so hard that retina damage is an issue if you could afford to really practice with it and DON'T live where there is Cape Buffalo????
I thought it was worth expanding on just a bit. If I can be excused for going back in time, when I was in high school I'd hunted bird and deer, plinked, etc., but frankly, found it all a bit boring. I loved shooting pistols — the biggest I could get my hands on at that time was the .357, my father's Flat-Top Blackhawk. Big boom = Good! My relatives couldn't understand why I was so interested in shooting big handguns and not sitting in a deer stand all day. Hmmmm. About that time my father did a trade that included a Trapdoor Springfield with the barrel cut to carbine length. The Trapdoor was thrown in to sweeten the trade...my father didn't care about it at all. I, OTOH, got the local gun store to order me a box of 45-70 .405 grainers, which I was too stupid to know wouldn't be shot in a beat-up Trapdoor.
But oh doggie, did those bad boys buck and roar out of that short barrel! Forget the thirty-thurty and those snore-nod converted military bolt guns...this was a rifle I could get behind! I shot the crap out of that Trapdoor and it never blew up in my face (luckily!). It left me with an abiding love of BIG BORE THINGIES. As a consequence, I've spent a lot of my shooting career whamming away with big blasters, handguns and rifles. In rifles, 45-70 remains my one of my favorite calibers; .458s are fun, but nothing like the classic African cartridges. The .500 Nitro Express is cool beyond words to shoot. I've been lucky enough to fire both a 4-bore rifle and an 10-bore Howdah pistol...I'd own them both if I were rich. I have a Barrett .50 BMG that is my single most favorite rifle.
And don't even get me started on handguns! My biggest regret is not having the scratch to get Hamilton Bowen to build me the "Super British Bulldog" he and I concocted one night — a 56-50 Spencer Ruger Redhawk dolled up to look like a classic turn of the 19th Century British Bulldog.
I may never get to Africa to walk in the footsteps of the heroes of my youth, but you never know. If I do get to make that trip, it will be with 2 Ruger #1s — the 450-400 3-inch and a hotted-up 45-70.
And yes, I understand that the effects of recoil are cumulative. All of us who shoot boomers understand that on an intimate level. My favorite story is when I had my right elbow MRI'ed for persistent, agonizing pain. The doctor came out and said, "So, Mr. Bane, I have a question for you...what does one have to do to get a bone spur in just that position on your elbow? It's not this..." he mimicked a golf swing "...and it's not this..." he mimicked swinging a tennis racquet. "...I'm curious."
I mimicked shooting a gun, and he said, "Hmmmmm...I'm thinking you did this more than once!"