I last shot my 45 cal Markwell arms half stock (it was full stock but I ditched the fore-end and brass spacer and soldered a rib beneath the barrel) to the range today. The last time I took it out was at the Rendezvous at Whittington Center, NM. I had left behind my reading glasses and could see the front sight and shot really poorly.
Well, today the reading glasses were tossed into the car and off to the range it went. Per procedure a cap was placed on the nipple and then it wouldn't fire. Oh, half cock. DUH. On full cock and it still wouldn't fire. ???? Anyway, the range master is a classmate of mine and I went to his house (on the range) and borrowed a screwdriver and removed the lock.
No obstructions and when the sear lever was pushed up, you could see the sear disconnect from the tumbler. The tumbler stayed back and the V spring was compressed 100%. Was the bridle too tight? Tried finding a screwdriver to fit the bridle screws and then noticed the hammer was canted slightly toward the lockplate. Ah hah! Upon loosening the hammer screw slightly, the hammer could rotate forward. Two yeasr of gunsmithing taught this know-nothing something.
Back to the firing line. With a cap on the nipple and the muzzle lowered to the dirt, it went off with an audible bang and a blast of air tossed up some dirt. Loaded with 40 grains FF and a .440 ball. Darn patches were too thick and the balls had to be hammered down the muzzle. Hint: don't hammer while you hold something else in your hand besides the short starter. It hurts
Anyway, finally got the ball down to the powder and with a cap, went to shoot it Bang! Ouch! Forgot I needed a flash guard and being left handed, the underside of my right forearm got peppered. OK, I'm smart. I'll shoot right handed with my non-dominant eye.
Peering down the barrel my right eye confirmed what my left eye told me: the front sight was bent to the left. Lovely. How did that happen? Anyway, all the shots naturally went to the left but at least it's hitting the paper.
After about 30 shots, it was time to call it quits. The horn was almost empty and being near noon time, it was getting hot. Took it home and scrubbed the bore with moose milk (a habit picked up from Whittington Center). Ouch again! It felt great with the small cuts on the hand.
The joys of blackpowder are unending.
Well, today the reading glasses were tossed into the car and off to the range it went. Per procedure a cap was placed on the nipple and then it wouldn't fire. Oh, half cock. DUH. On full cock and it still wouldn't fire. ???? Anyway, the range master is a classmate of mine and I went to his house (on the range) and borrowed a screwdriver and removed the lock.
No obstructions and when the sear lever was pushed up, you could see the sear disconnect from the tumbler. The tumbler stayed back and the V spring was compressed 100%. Was the bridle too tight? Tried finding a screwdriver to fit the bridle screws and then noticed the hammer was canted slightly toward the lockplate. Ah hah! Upon loosening the hammer screw slightly, the hammer could rotate forward. Two yeasr of gunsmithing taught this know-nothing something.
Back to the firing line. With a cap on the nipple and the muzzle lowered to the dirt, it went off with an audible bang and a blast of air tossed up some dirt. Loaded with 40 grains FF and a .440 ball. Darn patches were too thick and the balls had to be hammered down the muzzle. Hint: don't hammer while you hold something else in your hand besides the short starter. It hurts
Anyway, finally got the ball down to the powder and with a cap, went to shoot it Bang! Ouch! Forgot I needed a flash guard and being left handed, the underside of my right forearm got peppered. OK, I'm smart. I'll shoot right handed with my non-dominant eye.
Peering down the barrel my right eye confirmed what my left eye told me: the front sight was bent to the left. Lovely. How did that happen? Anyway, all the shots naturally went to the left but at least it's hitting the paper.
After about 30 shots, it was time to call it quits. The horn was almost empty and being near noon time, it was getting hot. Took it home and scrubbed the bore with moose milk (a habit picked up from Whittington Center). Ouch again! It felt great with the small cuts on the hand.
The joys of blackpowder are unending.