Posted 24 April 2006 - 08:08 AM
Steven and I returned from the range yesterday afternoon. I am even MORE angry now than I was at the range. So here we go . . . Get a 100 YARD rifle target from the Range Master . . . stick a zork orange dot in the center, one about 3" from the top and one about 3" from the bottom. Set up on the 20 YARD section of the rifle range . . . set up the sandbags . . . pre-notch them so the revolver pretty much simply lines up with the 2.5 FOOT wide by 3 FOOT tall 100 yard rifle target . . . at 20 YARDS . . . Place and remove the revolver to pre-sight about a half dozen times on and off the bags to insure all is well . . . it is. Kewl . . . Load 6 rounds of Winchester USA 240 grain yackty-smackties into the cylinder . . . close and lock the cylinder. Finger off the trigger . . . settle the revolver back into the notch in the bag . . . dead nutz on the center dot. Aim at the center dot (20 YARDS away) pull back the hammer . . . aim. . . breath . . . hold . . . squeeze . . . BOOM! Nothing. Hmmmm . . . cold barrel . . . must foul . . . allrightfinethen. Re-settle the revolver in the bag . . . target dead nutz on . . . pull back the hammer . . . aim . . . breath . . . hold . . . squeeze . . . BOOM! Nothing. Huh? WTF/O? Repeat 4 more times . . . nothing. Empty the cylinder . . . stare dumbfounded at the target 20 YARDS away . . . check again with the scope on the Bull . . . nope . . . nothing . . . check with the spotting scope . . . nothing. WTF/O? Reload . . . back on the center dot . . . nothing is moving . . . rock solid . . . pull the hammer back . . . aim . . . breath . . . hold . . . squeeze . . . BOOM! Nothing. Wait a flipp'n minute . . . this is a 2.5 FOOT wide by 3 FOOT tall piece of paper and it is at 20 YARDS!! Huh?? Have Steven stop shooting the 10 . . . watch the dirt above, behind, below, left, right . . . see what is flying where: if at all. Pull the hammer back . . . aim . . . breath . . . hold . . . squeeze . . . BOOM! He didn't see squat. Allrightfinethen . . . Aim at the top dot . . . pull the hammer back . . . aim . . . breath . . . hold . . . squeeze . . . BOOM! Nothing . . . Steven saw nothing. Aim again at the top dot . . . pull the hammer back . . . aim . . . breath . . . hold . . . squeeze . . . BOOM! Nothing . . . Steven said the dirt at the end of the range puffed up a little high. OK . . . repeat for confirmation. Steven still says the dirt at the end of the range is puffing up with the bullet impact a little higher than he would have suspected. Fine then. Unload the spent and unspent cases as the range is ready for a target change over. Check the untouched target at 20 YARDS. Nope . . . not a hole to be seen. Head back behind the line and wait for the next round. Load another 6 rounds. Get the revolver all comfy and snuggled into the sand bag . . . aim for the bottom dot . . . pull back the hammer . . . aim . . . breath . . . hold . . . squeeze . . . BOOM! A HIT!! It is 2 + feet up and 5 inches to the right . . . at 20 YARDS! Check the mount, check the base and check the scope . . . all is snug. Aim for the bottom dot . . . pull back the hammer . . . aim . . . breath . . . hold . . . squeeze . . . BOOM!! A HIT!! About an inch from the first hit. WTF/O? Pull off the turret covers . . . crank a truckload-o-down and a tad-o-left. Aim at the bottom dot . . . pull back the hammer . . . aim . . . breath . . . hold . . . squeeze . . . BOOM! I am only a foot and three quarters high . . . and mostly centered. Crank in several tractor-trailer loads-o-down. Aim at the bottom dot . . . pull back the hammer . . . aim . . . breath . . . hold . . . squeeze . . . BOOM! I am only about 10 or so inches high. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. Bottom the scope out. Aim at the bottom dot . . . pull back the hammer . . . aim . . . breath . . . hold . . . squeeze . . . BOOM! I am about 6 inches high . . . at 20 yards. Consider using a 'really big hammer' . . . decide against it. Speak with the range officer . . . speak with the range master . . . speak with the poor sucker at the bench next to me. Look at Steven . . . get the ?Deer In The Headlight Look?. He goes back to blasting holes in his target with the 10. The range master comes out of the office to tell me to talk with 'Ralph' at the far end of the range . . . he is a USBR shooter (and a really nice guy), a retired math teacher and a VHA 500/1,000/1,500 yard PD killer (working on 2,000 yards). Pick up the revolver, turn over, scratch head . . . ponder . . . mumble . . . fumble . . . rotate in an anti-clockwise motion . . . stand on left foot . . . stand on right foot . . . ponder . . . mumble . . . fumble . . . scratch various body parts . . . repeat for a while. No joy. Something is 'off' . . . really . . . you think so? Could be the scope base, could be the rings, could be the scope . . . could be plate tectonics and we really are in the southern hemisphere and the anti-corrieolais (sp) effect is causing inverse Mandarin notation, effecting the differential split in the opening of the 4 dimension and the bullets are spinning in reverse. I need some of what he has . . . Frig it . . . just finish off the box of 50 rounds and get more familiar with the trigger and the wonderful way the porting causes the recoil to come straight back . . . VERY little muzzle rise. The revolver is a dream to shoot . . . couldn?t hit a bull in the butt with a base fiddle with it . . . but very nice just the same. Down to 3 rounds . . . time to leave . . . time for one last target change. Staple a new target on . . . move to 50 yards (what the heck huh?) and wait for the line to be cleared for the next course of fire. Pull the hammer back . . . aim . . . breath . . . hold . . . squeeze . . . BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Empty . . . done. Pack up our benches . . . wait for target retrieve. Retrieve target . . . 2" group about 2 inches high at 50 yards. Fine . . . whatEVER. Drive home . . . watch a group of 4 'Donors' on crotch-rockets pop wheelies on a rather curvy mountain road with some amusement. Have cell phone handy to call 911 so they could squeegee up what is left. Not needed . . . though Steven and I noted with MUCH amusement how 'civil' they became when they passed two cops on the side of the road. Get home . . . disassemble the optics on the Bull. My machining of the mount tabs was just fine . . . however, I am going to have to mill the scope base. It is seriously galled on the underside, at the barrel/receiver interface. I am going to mill that sucker off. No more nice 45 degree angle. It will be square and will clear. The scope mount was canted up at the back by about 1/8". The scope is mounted on the very last two slots on the mount (right over the cylinder 'housing') to keep the scope as far back from the porting blast as I can.The Burris ZEE rings actually CUT the scope tube and I must smooth that out before the next outing. I might mill the front and rear edges of the rings so they don't cut the scope. I think I will use some 'friction paper' on the rings to assist in the anti-scope cutting effort as well. Perhaps hone the rings as well. Perhaps (most likely) toss the ZEE rings into the scrap bin and go back to my Warren rings. Even though they are blued and not SS, they have always worked without a hitch. Now Steve can call my Bull the Skunk # 2. I may even break out the chicken bones and chicken blood . . . sacrifice a Red Herring, sleep with my feet pointed due north and only turn to the right when I roll over in bed. Perhaps sleep with ONE sock on while wearing my suit jacket pulled up over my ears with the left sleeve tucked into the right inside breast pocket. Oh yeah . . . wear my scuba weight belt backward (and upside down) for good measure as well. What a mess. I am not a happy camper. I have never . . . NEVER EVER had this much of a problem with ANY firearm I have owned in 40 years of ownership. TWO + FEET off at 20 YARDS?? Excuse me? Now where did I put that darn chicken anyway . . . To be continued . . . Kevin G.