John Ross
03-22-2011, 12:36 PM
Welcome to the world of ADs...
Auto Mag experimentation continued, but it was the 29s that got the most use. My Star tool just kept pumping out the ammo.
In early summer of 1974 I was shooting my .357 Auto Mag in the back pasture and after shooting a final magazine, had one round left in my ammo box. Instead of removing the magazine and loading the single round into it, I dropped the round into the chamber and hit the bolt release.
Mistake.
The inertia firing pin had enough energy to set off the primer when the bolt slammed home and the gun fired into the ground five feet in front of me.
From an unlocked bolt.
The case head separated, leaving the front half of the case in the chamber. The gas that dumped into the action blew the barrel release lever off the gun and into my left leg, about 3” below my groin. I limped back to the shop, got my pants down, and inspected the damage. The latch was under the skin about 1/8”. Bleeding wasn’t much, so I sterilized a screwdriver with a propane torch and managed to dig the latch out. Bleeding worsened so I heated the screwdriver up again and cauterized the small wound. I don’t mind admitting my eyes watered a bit when I did that…
I tried to get the barrel off, but with the latch sheared, I couldn’t. I called Kent and he said to ship the gun to Harry. He’d tell him what happened and that it was coming. Harry called me and said the frame was ruined—the rear projection that the bolt went through was stretched ½” rearward, but hadn’t sheared. The barrel assembly was undamaged. He stamped a new frame with the same serial number, built up a new gun, and charged me $50.
The next week, I was shooting trap with my uncle, Larry Gravestock, and gunsmith Harry McKay. I was using a breakopen custom single barrel trap gun that Harry had designed and built from scratch: A MonoMac, one of three owned by my uncle. I went 24 out of 25 from the 16 yard line on our warm-up round. Larry and Uncle Graves both went 25 straight. On about the third station of our second round, I stepped up to the line, dropped a shell in the chamber, and closed the gun. It fired into the ground in front of me.
“Keep your finger out of the trigger guard when you close the gun,” Larry said. “No harm done. Load your gun again. You’re still up.”
“My finger wasn’t in the trigger guard,” I said as I opened the gun and put the fired case in my belt bag. “The gun fired when it closed.” Larry started to protest, but my Uncle cut him off.
“Larry’s probably right, but let’s have Mac check the gun out. Harry, see if you can get it to fire on closing.” McKay took the empty gun, looked it over, and opened and closed it several dozen times. The hammer never fell. “Looks like the gun’s okay,” my uncle said. “Like Larry said, no harm done. You had the gun pointed in a safe direction. Just watch that trigger finger.” McKay started to hand the gun back to me but I didn’t take it. I held up an unfired shotgun shell.
“That chamber’s empty right now. Try it a couple dozen more times with the gun loaded. Might make a difference.” The gunsmith took the round, dropped it in the chamber, and began closing and opening the gun. The look on his face told me that he thought he was probably wasting his time humoring me, but guys who build complete actions want to make sure the job is done right.
On about the fifth or sixth closing, the gun fired.
My uncle laughed and looked at Larry. “Looks like the kid’s got more sense than you thought.”
“No harm done,” I said with a slight smile. “Let’s finish the round. I’ll make sure the gun’s pointed in a safe direction when I close it.”
“And I’ll put more sear engagement in it as soon as I get to the shop,” Harry promised.
Almost 200,000 rounds fired in nine years without an AD, and then I get two in a week. Go figure…
Auto Mag experimentation continued, but it was the 29s that got the most use. My Star tool just kept pumping out the ammo.
In early summer of 1974 I was shooting my .357 Auto Mag in the back pasture and after shooting a final magazine, had one round left in my ammo box. Instead of removing the magazine and loading the single round into it, I dropped the round into the chamber and hit the bolt release.
Mistake.
The inertia firing pin had enough energy to set off the primer when the bolt slammed home and the gun fired into the ground five feet in front of me.
From an unlocked bolt.
The case head separated, leaving the front half of the case in the chamber. The gas that dumped into the action blew the barrel release lever off the gun and into my left leg, about 3” below my groin. I limped back to the shop, got my pants down, and inspected the damage. The latch was under the skin about 1/8”. Bleeding wasn’t much, so I sterilized a screwdriver with a propane torch and managed to dig the latch out. Bleeding worsened so I heated the screwdriver up again and cauterized the small wound. I don’t mind admitting my eyes watered a bit when I did that…
I tried to get the barrel off, but with the latch sheared, I couldn’t. I called Kent and he said to ship the gun to Harry. He’d tell him what happened and that it was coming. Harry called me and said the frame was ruined—the rear projection that the bolt went through was stretched ½” rearward, but hadn’t sheared. The barrel assembly was undamaged. He stamped a new frame with the same serial number, built up a new gun, and charged me $50.
The next week, I was shooting trap with my uncle, Larry Gravestock, and gunsmith Harry McKay. I was using a breakopen custom single barrel trap gun that Harry had designed and built from scratch: A MonoMac, one of three owned by my uncle. I went 24 out of 25 from the 16 yard line on our warm-up round. Larry and Uncle Graves both went 25 straight. On about the third station of our second round, I stepped up to the line, dropped a shell in the chamber, and closed the gun. It fired into the ground in front of me.
“Keep your finger out of the trigger guard when you close the gun,” Larry said. “No harm done. Load your gun again. You’re still up.”
“My finger wasn’t in the trigger guard,” I said as I opened the gun and put the fired case in my belt bag. “The gun fired when it closed.” Larry started to protest, but my Uncle cut him off.
“Larry’s probably right, but let’s have Mac check the gun out. Harry, see if you can get it to fire on closing.” McKay took the empty gun, looked it over, and opened and closed it several dozen times. The hammer never fell. “Looks like the gun’s okay,” my uncle said. “Like Larry said, no harm done. You had the gun pointed in a safe direction. Just watch that trigger finger.” McKay started to hand the gun back to me but I didn’t take it. I held up an unfired shotgun shell.
“That chamber’s empty right now. Try it a couple dozen more times with the gun loaded. Might make a difference.” The gunsmith took the round, dropped it in the chamber, and began closing and opening the gun. The look on his face told me that he thought he was probably wasting his time humoring me, but guys who build complete actions want to make sure the job is done right.
On about the fifth or sixth closing, the gun fired.
My uncle laughed and looked at Larry. “Looks like the kid’s got more sense than you thought.”
“No harm done,” I said with a slight smile. “Let’s finish the round. I’ll make sure the gun’s pointed in a safe direction when I close it.”
“And I’ll put more sear engagement in it as soon as I get to the shop,” Harry promised.
Almost 200,000 rounds fired in nine years without an AD, and then I get two in a week. Go figure…