WoMD
In practice with my Remington 514, I decided that the trigger action was not as smooth as it might be. The idea, you see, is that you sqeeeeeeze the trigger steadily until the gun goes off unexpectedly. There should be no warning in the trigger action that the ballistic event is eminent. Just sqeeeeeeze until you hear a report and feel a jolt, indicating that the firing pin has, in fact, been released, in stealth, from the trigger's surly grasp and made the necessary contact with the cartridge to cause the bullet to begin its speedy flight down the barrel. I felt that my rifle's action gave a forewarning.
So it was that I stopped by the Sparta Gun and Ammo shop on the way to town with the idea of enquiring about adjustments. I was unprepared for what I found.
The store, located in an old house beyond the county dump, gave no warning of it's interior. Indeed, I was expecting to find a trove of deer rifles and shotguns like those I see in the gun racks of pickup trucks around town. But, upon entering the front door with my Remington 514 in hand, I was more than certain I had found Saddam Hussein's stash of weapons of mass destruction (WoMD). There were long guns and short pistols, short guns and long pistols, big guns and bigger guns. There were guns unlike any I had even seen or would have want to see. Hanging on the walls, in showcases, positioned for use on the floor, they were everywhere. I looked in vain for a weapon I might recognize and found none.
Oh, the owners, a man and his wife were, nice enough. Regular folks, I'd say. She, weighing in at no more than 90 pounds, was wearing a holstered pistol, big as a hog leg and surely weighing half as much. He never rose from his seat behind the counter and I gained no insight as to what WoMD might be a part of his attire. Anyhow, we had a nice discussion of the weather and our children before I broached the subject of triggers.
"Are you a gunsmith?"
"Depends on what you want done."
"Well, my trigger ..."
"Don't do trigger work. Too much liability."
Too much liability? There I was standing in the midst of his arsenal of WoMD's and he was worried about liability?
He eventually did suggest some things I might try to improve the trigger action that I subsequently found to be good advice. (I even did a little metal removal on the trigger spring seat to ease the trigger tension and thereby reduce the tremble of a 61-year-old trigger finger.)
As I left the shop, the owner did profession to regret that he had parted ways with his boyhood .22 long ago.
I didn't think he needed mine.
So it was that I stopped by the Sparta Gun and Ammo shop on the way to town with the idea of enquiring about adjustments. I was unprepared for what I found.
The store, located in an old house beyond the county dump, gave no warning of it's interior. Indeed, I was expecting to find a trove of deer rifles and shotguns like those I see in the gun racks of pickup trucks around town. But, upon entering the front door with my Remington 514 in hand, I was more than certain I had found Saddam Hussein's stash of weapons of mass destruction (WoMD). There were long guns and short pistols, short guns and long pistols, big guns and bigger guns. There were guns unlike any I had even seen or would have want to see. Hanging on the walls, in showcases, positioned for use on the floor, they were everywhere. I looked in vain for a weapon I might recognize and found none.
Oh, the owners, a man and his wife were, nice enough. Regular folks, I'd say. She, weighing in at no more than 90 pounds, was wearing a holstered pistol, big as a hog leg and surely weighing half as much. He never rose from his seat behind the counter and I gained no insight as to what WoMD might be a part of his attire. Anyhow, we had a nice discussion of the weather and our children before I broached the subject of triggers.
"Are you a gunsmith?"
"Depends on what you want done."
"Well, my trigger ..."
"Don't do trigger work. Too much liability."
Too much liability? There I was standing in the midst of his arsenal of WoMD's and he was worried about liability?
He eventually did suggest some things I might try to improve the trigger action that I subsequently found to be good advice. (I even did a little metal removal on the trigger spring seat to ease the trigger tension and thereby reduce the tremble of a 61-year-old trigger finger.)
As I left the shop, the owner did profession to regret that he had parted ways with his boyhood .22 long ago.
I didn't think he needed mine.
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