O.K., so it’s a new .44, but you get the idea.  When I was a kid, there was only one thing I wanted to be, a cowboy.  I wanted a six-gun, a lever-action rifle, and a horse so I could ride the range.  Career options for cowboys being rather limited in West Tennessee, I went to college after high school and double-majored in English and Spanish.  I then did the next logical thing and went to law school.  Now, twenty-something years from graduation, I’m trying to save as much money as I can from teaching to get a six-gun, a lever-action rifle, and a horse so I can ride the range.

My dream got one step closer last weekend with the purchase of a Ruger Super Blackhawk .44 Magnum.  I worked up a mild reload for it, and the Sporting Wife and I headed for the open range . . . the firing range.  I am not ready for whitetail or outlaws, but at seven yards I am on paper and so is the missus.  Cow-punchers we ain’t, but punching paper will do for now.

My solution was to spread the crack as far as I could and shoot the thing full of Gorilla Glue. It bonds wood fairly well, and more importantly, it would expand to fill the crack. There is very little bearing surface for gluing, and I wanted as much adhesion between the two halves of the split as possible to prevent the crack from running. Gorilla Glue is also flexible enough when dry that I’m hopeful it won’t act as a wedge to split the piece the rest of the way.

Notice how the glue is foaming and bubbling out of the crack. Because the glue expands quite a bit, I had to use a clamp to make sure it didn’t all run out or force the crack to open wider. Tolerances are pretty close between the receiver and the lip, so any swelling of the forend would cause a fit issue. I found that a champagne cork is just the right size on a 12 gauge forend to hold everything in the proper relationship. Luckily, I happened to have several lying around. I told you I had champagne taste and a beer budget, right? Melody in Orange Beach calls me Champagne Mike. I’ve been called a lot worse.

Here’s the finished result. Notice in the right of the photo how the action of the recoil spring has worn away the factory sticker that describes the placement of the friction rings for 3-inch magnum loads. There’s some pretty serious rockin’ and rollin’ inside that forend when shooting the big boomers. I guess reduced loads would be more gentle on the components, but I’m American: harder, faster, louder, better!

The repair is clearly visible from the outside because the glue is so light in color. I didn’t do any sanding; I put the whole works back together and shot the next day with no ill effects. It certainly wouldn’t pass muster with a professional re-stocker, but it got me back in the field with minimal down time and expense. That’s armchair.

Browning Auto-5 Magnum 12

The Auto-5 was the first successful semiautomatic shotgun design. My Papaw carried a Belgian-made Browning Sweet 16, and my little Franchi AL-48 20 gauge uses the same long-recoil mechanism. Some find the “double-shuffle” of the barrel snapping forward into battery distracting, but having known nothing else during my early shotgunning days, to me that’s exactly how an autoloader is supposed to feel.

I bought this shotgun with money I didn’t have when I learned that Japan’s Miroku had stopped producing them. Credit is frowned upon by those of my Papaw’s generation, but I used a Visa card to get one of the last three Auto-5 guns in existing stock at our local sporting goods store. Of all my gun purchases, the only ones I regret are the ones I didn’t make. I don’t have that credit card anymore, but the Browning is still my go-to gun. I hope I live long enough to wear it out, but like Papaw’s Sweet 16, all evidence points to someone else having another lifetime of hunting experience with it.

This is a question to which you will have to find your own answer. I will provide mine at the end of this piece, but first let’s review the Armchair Outfitter armory’s current inventory.

Remington Model 870 Express

This is the first 12-gauge I ever owned, and with its 3-inch magnum chamber and slick double-rail action, it would serve me well if it were still the only one. My Papaw bought it for me after listening to me complain that with my improved cylinder choked 20-gauge, I was out gunned on the dove field. I was usually surrounded on all sides by 12s in capable hands,and most birds were stone dead by the time they got within gun range for me. I don’t advocate the arms race, but I was reloading at the time so I could afford to shoot the equivalent of Federal’s Duck and Pheasant load. The 12-gauge patterns much better than a hot-loaded 20, and screw-in choke tubes extended my range a bit.

More importantly, perhaps, I dreamed of shooting ducks with the 12. I eventually did and still do. This gun makes a loud sound every time I pull the trigger, and the matte finish and oiled stock are impervious to just about anything. A buddy once dropped a steel military surplus ammo can full of shells onto the stock from shoulder height in the bottom of a duck boat. He looked sheepish, I shrugged, and we went and shot our limits. He’s since passed away, but I think of him when I see the barely visible gouge in the stock.

Here is the Jewell trigger out of the box. To remove the old trigger, after checking to make sure that the rifle was unloaded, I removed the action bedding screws located here:

and here:

The factory trigger assembly looks like this. Note the amount of gunk built up on it. When I decided to replace it, the safety had become so difficult to operate that I had taken to hunting with the safety off and the bolt open. No amount of cleaning or lubrication seemed to make any difference. Mr. Jewell recommends using his triggers completely dry. If an occasional cleaning is needed to remove grit, he suggests using lighter fluid because it dries without leaving a residue.

I looked carefully at the factory trigger, as Mr. Jewell’s unit is a direct replacement. This means that everything should be in the same relationship when the new trigger is installed cialis commercial. There is a tiny spring on the opposite side of the trigger that provides tension for the bolt stop. Before removing the trigger, I studied this spring, as I had been forewarned that it would fly off when freed and was a doozy to get back in place correctly. As it turns out, I didn’t study it carefully enough.

I used a brass punch to knock out the two pins,

and sure enough, that old spring sprang right off. I caught it, and I was feeling quite proud of myself until I started looking at it. It looked a lot different now that it wasn’t under tension.

Here’s the photo that could have saved me a good twenty minutes of fiddling. I actually had to find a similar photo online before I could complete the assembly. Other than that one small but important spring, the complete job consisted of knocking out and replacing two pins. And how does it shoot? After performing some safety tests with a snap-cap, I went to the range. I used a pet handload pushing a 110 grain hollowpoint to produce this group off sandbags at 100 yards.

It measures 3/8″ between the centers and 5/8″ edge to edge. Folks, I don’t shoot no better than that! Mind you, this was a 1 1/2″ gun at best before the trigger job, with 2″ being average. There is one peculiarity that I have to research. I noticed in the snap-cap testing that if I pulled the trigger with the safety engaged, the rifle would fire immediately when I disengaged the safety. I believe an adjustment to the overtravel screw will fix this, but I haven’t had a chance to work on it again. This just reinforces the need for testing and familiarity with any firearm and following the NRA’s basic rules for firearm safety:

1. ALWAYS keep the gun pointed in a safe direction.

2. ALWAYS keep your finger off the trigger until ready to fire.

3. ALWAYS keep the gun unloaded until ready to use.

I shoot a Remington Model 700 in .270 Winchester as my primary rifle for deer-sized game. It was manufactured during the 1980s, and it came from the factory with what some folks refer to as the “lawyer trigger.” This trigger was foisted on the consumer in response to some litigation Big Green was facing due to accidental discharges of Model 700s. To say that the trigger pull was set somewhat heavy is to say that an root canal with no anesthesia is somewhat unpleasant. I never put a trigger pull gauge on the thing, but if my Glock trigger breaks as advertised at 5 pounds, then this one was somewhere north of 10 pounds. The trigger is technically adjustable, but the adjustment screws are shot fill of Loctite, and I’ve been told that most of the time, the brittle screw breaks off in the thing if you don’t get all the Loctite out of the way before fiddling with it. Thank you, brothers and sisters in the legal department.

Rather than a trigger “allegedly” designed by fellow lawyers, I thought I’d install a trigger designed by Mr. Arnold Jewell. Those of you who are competitive benchrest shooters may skip the rest of this paragraph, because you are already familiar with Mr. Jewell, and you probably own one or two examples of his work. Mr Jewell was an aircraft mechanic and pilot who had the notion to design a trigger inspired by the geometry of the drag link in an airplane’s landing gear. This peculiar geometry allows Mr. Jewell’s trigger to be adjusted down to pull weights measured in ounces without affecting the inherent safety or function of the trigger. For years, there was a waiting list to get a Jewell trigger, but today you can get one the same way I did.

Jewell triggers are now available from retailers like Midway, but when I got on their website to order mine, they were on backorder. Patience is a virtue, but it ain’t one of mine. I started doing some research, and I found a telephone number for Jewell Triggers, Inc., in San Marcos, TX. I called the number, (512) 353-2999, and I spoke with a gentleman who may have been on the floor in the workshop itself for all I know. There was a radio playing softly in the background. A recorded message I received on a previous call had explained that they were gone to lunch. I told him what I wanted, and we discussed the proper trigger pull weight for me. He couldn’t give me an exact total for the shipping, but he gave me an estimate, and a date when I could expect the trigger to arrive. As this date was the same date that Midway indicated they’d have their triggers for shipment, I provided my credit card information and sealed the deal.

In the end, I saved a little green over retail, and I got my trigger faster. The most valuable part of the experience, however, was discussing the trigger with a man who knows them. I originally told him that I wanted the trigger set at 3 pounds, and although he wasn’t pushy about it, he advised me that 3 pounds was the maximum on the trigger model he was recommending. I described my experience level and my dissatisfaction with the factory setting, and he said that he felt that 2.5 pounds would give me better accuracy and, with practice, would still be heavy enough for a hunting trigger. The Jewell trigger is fully adjustable, so I agreed to the change from my original specification.

The trigger arrived on the promised date packaged in a white cardboard box. The packing material consisted of two crumpled pages of the Austin American-Statesman, Section C, the sports page. Enclosed were complete mechanical diagrams of the trigger’s patented design and instructions for adjusting sear engagement, overtravel, and pull force. A copy of my receipt is signed, “Thanks, A.” I can’t prove that Mr. Arnold himself signed that receipt, but I like to think he did.

In the next installment of the story, I install the Jewell!