Libercontrarian

Crushed between the wheels of capitalism and big government.

The Long Awaited BloggerShoot Report Is In

Range Report: May 3rd

Participants: Publicola, Wadcutter, Me

Guns: P-Cola’s fabulous sporterized P17 rifles, his beautiful laminated-stock Garand (with T-37 flash hider, trés-cool), his nickeled Beretta 92F, and his neato-Ruger 10-22. Wadcutter brought a couple of handguns – a CZ with wood grips that was a joy to hold and shoot, and some other handgun. I can’t remember, as it’s been so long! I had the Garand, my new Mega Machine Shop AR15 that I built, and a Winchester Model 121 single-action bolt-gun in .22 LR. I also brought the pip-squeak .32 Kel-Tec P3AT handgun.
Targets and action: I got to Left Hand Canyon first. While there, I set up some clay shotgun targets to sight in the Winchester . Having bought the rifle from a friend’s mom after it sat in her closet for 30 years, I went through it and cleaned it up – there’s hardly any wear on the damn thing. I mounted a cheapo $10 scope on the rifle, and got it sighted it, although this took me nearly 80 rounds. I intelligently discovered, after 35 minutes of frustration, that I was moving the scope in the wrong direction (It’s been YEARS since I’ve sighted in a scoped rifle – that’s my excuse and I’m stickin’ to it). Once I had the little gun roughed-in, I was plinking shotgun targets with it mercilessly, although quite a few hits merely poked small holes in the targets without breaking them up. .22 is little more than a BB, really.

At that point, the boys arrived. I helped P-Cola and Wadcutter hump literally 300+ pounds of gear from their cars into the canyon. Winded but delighted at the company, we set up shop. P-Cola brought a chrono to the canyon! We laid out a blankie to cover the ground, and a tent groundsheet to catch spent shells. P-Cola reloads.30-06 for his P-17s. I haven’t bought dies yet for the Garand, so I gave my spent shells to him.

I took 100 rounds of .32 with me – that Kel-Tec is pleasant to shoot, with little recoil and perfect functionality. I elected to make my opening mag a fun one – taking aim at shotgun target 45 yards away, I managed to vaporize it with my second shot! I screamed, Dean-like, in triumph at the feat; the clay discs are only 4” in diameter. Shooting a round that has immense bullet drop at 45 FEET was like shooting a mortar at three times the distance. Coupled with the fact that I was shooting offhand, my hitting the target meant that the shot was a desperate mix of luck and good estimation. I would not want to get caught in a long-distance gun battle (like more than 20 feet) with a little popgun like that!

Wad let me shoot his remarkable CZ – that gun had no problems vaporizing targets at 45 yards. The CZs are real handguns: chunky but handsome, accurate as hell, fun, and low-recoiling with 9mm, in addition to being super-cheap to shoot. 9mm has become unwisely disrespected in the American shooting community (it’s become the .38 of it’s day); its value has gone into the toilet. Doesn’t make it any less accurate, reliable or dangerous, fads-be-damned.

P-Cola set up his chrono. We chronographed a few rounds with it; my Garand put out 2876 FPS from 168 grain USGI milsurp Black Tip MG ammo. I was rather surprised at the velocity – I didn’t think .30-06 ever went faster than about 2700 fps, especially in a semi-auto gun, and not at 168 grains, either. We shot my Kel-Tec through the chrono for laughs, 777 fps seemed roasting hot for the amount of drop those bullets have. Maybe P-Cola's chrono reads fast - or the 7,000 ft. altitude was messin' with it.

That’s when something funny happened – P-Cola was shooting his Beretta through the chrono and blew off a shroud-arm, then hit the top of the device, sending it sprawling. Flummoxed, we rebooted the unit… and it worked! Wad said that he wasn’t surprised; solid state electronics can take a hell of a pounding. P-Cola was getting some bullet setback that was leading to dangerously high velocities in the Beretta, so he put that handgun away and broke out the bolt rifles. He let me fire some – I described his nicely-stocked-and-scoped P-17 as “death on a stick.” It just shoots where you point it, big cones of copper jacketed love hurtling downrange at jaw-dropping (and shoulder-bruising) velocities. These were rifles for MEN, not boys. This ain’t your kid’s .22!

I fired my Garand at various clay targets 140 yards away from the prone position. I hit or knocked down (from impacts so close they blew the ground supporting the targets away) every target with one shot apiece – the Garand, as you know, was accurized by the world-famous Clint Fowler, and shows the results in the tiny groups it produces. Wad fired my rifle and smiled in amazement. My AR, wearing its new Hakko Tac-Point (all the Trijicon/Aimpoint snobs are puking, assuming they’ve read this far) was sighted in and functioned, as always, flawlessly, accurately, and wonderfully, with the experience only being marred by the YHM free-float tube shooting loose – I should have loctited the damn thing before I hit the range. Oh well, live and learn.
All in all, it was a super fun day – I got to see my blogging friends again, shoot their cool guns, and make hash out of clay. I remember one shot I made with my Garand that emphasized the difference between.223 and the .30-’06: I nailed a Maxell House can that P-Cola brought, and sent it sailing 40 feet into the air. I sure wouldn’t want to get hit with anything like that. .30 cal ROCKS!

posted by: underwhelmed at May 24, 2005 20:28 | link | comments |

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