A Tale of Shame
02-10-2010, 09:23 PM
#1
Boone & Crockett
Thread Starter
Join Date: Apr 2007
Location: River Ridge, LA (Suburb of New Orleans)
Posts: 10,918
A Tale of Shame
It’s said that confession is good for the soul. Well, I don’t know about that. I do know it can be painful to admit one’s failings.
As midnight approaches I sit here behind my keyboard, sipping a Scotch and preparing for confession to a group of guys I know and like, yet don’t really know at all. Never met a one of them. Does it matter if they offer words of understanding, or encouragement, or maybe even absolution? Yes, I think it does.
My wife is in bed, still awake and reading. I’ve always been a night owl – she, only recently so. She’s accustomed to my late night sessions with the computer, or playing with little projects, or fooling around with “all of that gun stuff”. Earlier this afternoon I brought a gun in from the detached boat shed/workshop and she said “what are you going to do with that rusty old thing?” “I don’t know” I said, “maybe clean it up and hang it on the wall”. “Ugh” she said, not knowing its regal linage. I didn’t try to explain.
So there it sits in the corner, a few feet away. With a glance to my left I can see its rusty barrel and lock, its dinged and scratched wood, its missing thimble and ramrod, and its tarnished brass. I try not to look.
It wasn’t always like that. Once it was beautiful, at least in my eyes. I built it myself in 1963. The 13/16” .40 caliber Numrich barrel and the rough cast brass trigger guard and butt plate came from a Dixie Gun Works catalog. The lock and trigger plate were picked out of a box of junk parts at a gun show. The thimbles and nose cap were formed from sheet brass from a tiny long gone hardware store owned by a cranky old man. The stock – ah, the stock! Actually, I called it the “Pig $hit Stock”.
There was an abandoned pig farm on the Mississippi river batture that had fences made with scrap wood from the adjacent, and also abandoned, Freiberg Sawmill. That mill handled a lot of timber from South America, shipped up the Mississippi River. One of the corner posts on an inside pen in the nastiest part of the pig wallow was a piece of 3” x 8” rough cut mahogony that I pulled out of the stinking slushy ground. That wood smelled of pig excrement throughout the shaping process and for its first year of life as a gunstock. You could smell it when you shouldered the gun. I suspect that a little sanding would still produce a porcine aroma, even now.
It was a lovely little gun. Six and a half pounds of companionship. I didn’t know the lines were wrong, and I didn’t know it wasn’t representative of any particular style of muzzle loader in history. I didn’t know most of the furniture was poorly inletted. All I knew was it shot patched balls accurately, made a lot of smoke, and killed rabbits, squirrels, nutria, and tin cans as though they had been struck by the Hammer of Thor. All of my friends with their twenty-twos and thirty-thirties thought I was crazy.
But I learned a lot of what I know and love about muzzleloading with that gun. So why did I abandon it many years ago to hang near the rafters in an un-insulated structure in humid South Louisiana? Why did I look up at it now and then and think “it’s getting rusty, I ought to clean it up and oil it” – but never did? I don’t know why, and I’m ashamed.
Maybe I can redeem myself to that gun - just a little bit. Make a new thimble with sheet brass just the way I did forty-plus years ago. Clean up the lock. Shine the brass. Refinish the stock and clean up the inletting as much as possible. Drop a hundred and twenty bucks on a Green Mountain barrel in forty caliber, or maybe thirty-six, and let her make smoke again. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll forgive me.
As midnight approaches I sit here behind my keyboard, sipping a Scotch and preparing for confession to a group of guys I know and like, yet don’t really know at all. Never met a one of them. Does it matter if they offer words of understanding, or encouragement, or maybe even absolution? Yes, I think it does.
My wife is in bed, still awake and reading. I’ve always been a night owl – she, only recently so. She’s accustomed to my late night sessions with the computer, or playing with little projects, or fooling around with “all of that gun stuff”. Earlier this afternoon I brought a gun in from the detached boat shed/workshop and she said “what are you going to do with that rusty old thing?” “I don’t know” I said, “maybe clean it up and hang it on the wall”. “Ugh” she said, not knowing its regal linage. I didn’t try to explain.
So there it sits in the corner, a few feet away. With a glance to my left I can see its rusty barrel and lock, its dinged and scratched wood, its missing thimble and ramrod, and its tarnished brass. I try not to look.
It wasn’t always like that. Once it was beautiful, at least in my eyes. I built it myself in 1963. The 13/16” .40 caliber Numrich barrel and the rough cast brass trigger guard and butt plate came from a Dixie Gun Works catalog. The lock and trigger plate were picked out of a box of junk parts at a gun show. The thimbles and nose cap were formed from sheet brass from a tiny long gone hardware store owned by a cranky old man. The stock – ah, the stock! Actually, I called it the “Pig $hit Stock”.
There was an abandoned pig farm on the Mississippi river batture that had fences made with scrap wood from the adjacent, and also abandoned, Freiberg Sawmill. That mill handled a lot of timber from South America, shipped up the Mississippi River. One of the corner posts on an inside pen in the nastiest part of the pig wallow was a piece of 3” x 8” rough cut mahogony that I pulled out of the stinking slushy ground. That wood smelled of pig excrement throughout the shaping process and for its first year of life as a gunstock. You could smell it when you shouldered the gun. I suspect that a little sanding would still produce a porcine aroma, even now.
It was a lovely little gun. Six and a half pounds of companionship. I didn’t know the lines were wrong, and I didn’t know it wasn’t representative of any particular style of muzzle loader in history. I didn’t know most of the furniture was poorly inletted. All I knew was it shot patched balls accurately, made a lot of smoke, and killed rabbits, squirrels, nutria, and tin cans as though they had been struck by the Hammer of Thor. All of my friends with their twenty-twos and thirty-thirties thought I was crazy.
But I learned a lot of what I know and love about muzzleloading with that gun. So why did I abandon it many years ago to hang near the rafters in an un-insulated structure in humid South Louisiana? Why did I look up at it now and then and think “it’s getting rusty, I ought to clean it up and oil it” – but never did? I don’t know why, and I’m ashamed.
Maybe I can redeem myself to that gun - just a little bit. Make a new thimble with sheet brass just the way I did forty-plus years ago. Clean up the lock. Shine the brass. Refinish the stock and clean up the inletting as much as possible. Drop a hundred and twenty bucks on a Green Mountain barrel in forty caliber, or maybe thirty-six, and let her make smoke again. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll forgive me.
Last edited by Semisane; 05-30-2012 at 07:07 AM.
02-10-2010, 10:40 PM
#2
Fork Horn
Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Central Illinois
Posts: 114
I havent seen scotch and a pipe in almost 40 years. If I were you, I wouldn't put any sandpaper to that stock. I doubt you'd have the tolerance to that smell now, like you did way back when. Ah, the way back whens.. you've got some great memories there, maybe best not to tamper with them. Great writing, by the way, and a fine looking rifle.
02-11-2010, 05:43 AM
#5
Nontypical Buck
Join Date: Oct 2006
Location: Tennessee
Posts: 1,607
Well, if nothing else, cleanin' her up will bring back some memories. I too had a similar situation only I had loaned the rifle only to get it back in that shape. It now is a wall decoration. About all it's good for now.
I look forward to seeing it's transformation.
also, you need to clean that filthy keyboard
I look forward to seeing it's transformation.
also, you need to clean that filthy keyboard
02-11-2010, 08:42 AM
#6
Nontypical Buck
Join Date: Jan 2009
Location: Northern Chautauqua Co. N.Y.
Posts: 2,976
Old Friends are one of the most Important things in Life, I wish we could keep them forever. Your ML kinda reminds me of my Old Black Lab, in his younger years he was the Best Darn Hunting Dog a Man could ever hope for, we did a-lot togeather. But now just passing another Birthday he starting to slow down and the rust is starting to set in, I can see it in his eyes that this may be the last year I can take him along we me, he's still got the Love though and if I could bring him back to when he was young I'd do it in a second.
Your Old ML still has the Love inside and bringing it back to it's younger years would bring you back too. Give it back the Love it gave you and you'll both be Happy.
I cant wait to see it!
(BP)
Your Old ML still has the Love inside and bringing it back to it's younger years would bring you back too. Give it back the Love it gave you and you'll both be Happy.
I cant wait to see it!
(BP)
02-11-2010, 08:58 AM
#8
Nontypical Buck
Join Date: Jan 2009
Location: Northern Chautauqua Co. N.Y.
Posts: 2,976
Old Friends are one of the most Important things in Life, I wish we could keep them forever. Your ML kinda reminds me of my Old Black Lab, in his younger years he was the Best Darn Hunting Dog a Man could ever hope for, we did a-lot togeather. But now just passing another Birthday he starting to slow down and the rust is starting to set in, I can see it in his eyes that this may be the last year I can take him along we me, he's still got the Love though and if I could bring him back to when he was young I'd do it in a second.
Your Old ML still has the Love inside and bringing it back to it's younger years would bring you back too. Give it back the Love it gave you and you'll both be Happy.
I cant wait to see it!
(BP)
Your Old ML still has the Love inside and bringing it back to it's younger years would bring you back too. Give it back the Love it gave you and you'll both be Happy.
I cant wait to see it!
(BP)
02-11-2010, 09:28 AM
#9
Spike
Join Date: Apr 2007
Posts: 95
Must be something in the air, about a month ago I drug my old home made flinter out of the back of the closet cleaned the bore fixed I hope the patch box cover latch. My old hunting bag was falling apart made a new one, couldn' find any of the stuff that had gone with it starters and such, made new ones, needed a new ramrod Track of the wolf. The touch hole had burnt out about 35 years ago fixed that found some napped flints and she's just about ready to smoke but now we got about 11 inches of snow and colder than beegeezes so I guess a week or two longer won't matter
02-11-2010, 11:01 AM
#10
Banned
Join Date: Dec 2008
Location: Boncarbo,Colorado
Posts: 9,186
i was thinking about this lastnight and thought how bad it was more Semisane to post this along with a glass of scotch and a pipe next to his muzzleloader! After that, i had to go get a beer, my pipe and put on the mtn men. You sure are settin bad examples for us youngins semi 