Strange day at the range.

Paul B.

New member
Went to the range yesterday. Rangemaster warned me of invasion of rattlesnakes and Gila Monsters. Saw no snakes. One Gila Monster. He was sleeping in the shade of one of the benchs. he'd wake up, move to the other end of the line of benches, sack out for a while there, and then move back. It got a bit unnerving to look down and see hin slowly crawling between your feet. Finally he decided to spend the rest of the day underneath my truck. It was kind of fun watching him though. He was tame as hell. I've been using that range for almost 21 years, and that is the first Gila Monster I have seen, outside of a cage. The funniest part of all this was when I left. My wife and I laughed like hell. All of a sudden his shade was gone. he was looking around franticly trying to figure out where his shade had gone. He waddled off to the shade under the benches again.
Shooting? Well one rifle that has been shooting poorly settled down and gave usable, if not great groups. My old faithfull Rem. 700 30-06 went to crap and started shooting all over the place. I think that old Weaver scope just turned toes up. The first 200 gr. load I tried in the .300 Mag did .5 inch. My ultra expensive .35 Whelan still won't shoot worth a damn.
Now for the serious part. Some guy came up to me with a cartridge that had a sort 1/8 inch neck, the shoulders had 3 large cracks, and it was one ugly looking mess. He'd bought the rifle yeasterday morning, and is was a consignment deal, supposedly chambered for .300 Win. Mag. Looking at the wreck of a casing he had, I guessed the rifle had been chambered to .300 Weatherby. The wrecked brass had the WBY radiused shoulder, and when I place a .300 Win. round in the magazine, It was darn well long enough to possibly hold the Weatherby round. It was a beautifully done rifle on a 1917 Enfield action, pretty stock wood and some very flawless checkering. The only thing the idiot who make it didn't do, was mark the caliber on it somewhere.
I guess it all turned out OK though. Noboby got hurt.
Like I said, it was a strange day at the range.
Paul B.
 
The sun was in the seventh house of zimbabwey or something like that!
Hank
My work days go like that from time to time!
 
If you had bagged a rattler - you could have tried out some chili recepies...
:)

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"There is no limit to stupidity. Space itself is said to be bounded by its own curvature, but stupidity continues beyond infinity."
RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE
The Critic formerly known as Kodiac
 
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