Captain*Kirk
02-08-2010, 01:07 AM
Well, you may have heard me mention before that I have 3 BP revolvers; Civil War era replicas, one which was a kit (1860 No Name .44 New Army) with the most delicious action of any SA pistol I've ever encountered (Thank You very much; all the 'smithing on that pistol was done two decades ago by Yours Truly. Not bad for an amateur!), another which is my Stainless Armsport 1858 Remington in .44, which has been fantastic right out of the box. The only thing I've had to do on it was replace the hand and spring, requiring a little reshaping on the hand to match the old part. Then we had my little Excam .36 1851 Navy replica, the action which I likened to opening a cheap, import pocketknife in a sandbox. Yeah, that good.
A little more on this piece. I purchased it back in the eighties while working the PT job at the gun shop. We'd received a shipment of BP guns from the main store, and the city folk around here didn't know WHAT to make of 'em! Locals were all clamoring for Beretta 92's at the time, so they sat there, ignored....and I drooled, night after night. It got the point where I was coveting these damn things every time I worked. There was a pair of 'em; one of considerably better fit & finish than the other, with the exception of the grips. The grips on the real Sandbox Warrior (the worst of the two) were really nice. And so, I must confess to all of you...I did a bad, bad thing.
One evening, when it was slow, I took the nice wood grip off Sandbox #2 and put it on Sandbox #1. Then I put Sandbox #1 in the back with my name on it. Next payday, I plunked down the cash on SB#1 and it was mine. I guess whoever bought SB#2 got a real lulu! Poor bastard!
Anyway, back to the future; SB#1 has always been the Red-Headed Stepchild in my BP collection. So, the other night I'm cleaning the guns, and marveling at the hot-knife-through-butter action of NoName, the smooth, crisp no-nonsense function of the Rem, and the, ummmm...playground reject action of the little Navy, when it comes to me; Why not strip this little beastie down and see if I can help it out some, rather than just hating blindly?
With that thought in mind, I bundled it up and trotted off to see Mister Smith...or do you say Smythe?
In other words, down to the basement....
It was gonna be a strip and clean. At first. But once I got all those parts out, it became glaringly obvious why the similarity between it and the Sahara desert. The parts were rough as a cob, sharp, angular cutyerfingers edges, poorly shaped and contoured. The trigger had been stiff and horrible, with way too much creep. And now I could see why. You name it, it was.
Out came the needle files, sandpaper, stones and oil. I was not able to finish that evening, though I wanted desperately to continue long after midnight, but had to call it a night as this was still during the work week. (Work has a way of interfering with your private life that way). The action and pieces were worse than I thought. But Friday evening brought a few more hours worth of sanding, polishing, and fiddling, and when it finally went back together, it was a new gun. A little workout with Flitz on the brass, and suddenly.....
I found my self actually LIKING the thing. Whirring the cylinder was now smooth and positive, with a good, solid lockup every time. The balance was actually better than either of the .44s', and the grip felt small and solid in my hand. I could wrap two fingers around the grip, one on the trigger, and curl my pinky under the grip, as I like to do. It flicked and pointed, well, like it was part of me!
I liked the lightness, the size, and it cut a handsome profile. And I even liked the action, now. Not as good as NoName, but good. Gone was the Sandbox syndrome. It felt good in my hand. I think I'm falling in love with the little thing, dammit all!
I got me a new gun, and never even left the house! How cool is that?
A little more on this piece. I purchased it back in the eighties while working the PT job at the gun shop. We'd received a shipment of BP guns from the main store, and the city folk around here didn't know WHAT to make of 'em! Locals were all clamoring for Beretta 92's at the time, so they sat there, ignored....and I drooled, night after night. It got the point where I was coveting these damn things every time I worked. There was a pair of 'em; one of considerably better fit & finish than the other, with the exception of the grips. The grips on the real Sandbox Warrior (the worst of the two) were really nice. And so, I must confess to all of you...I did a bad, bad thing.
One evening, when it was slow, I took the nice wood grip off Sandbox #2 and put it on Sandbox #1. Then I put Sandbox #1 in the back with my name on it. Next payday, I plunked down the cash on SB#1 and it was mine. I guess whoever bought SB#2 got a real lulu! Poor bastard!
Anyway, back to the future; SB#1 has always been the Red-Headed Stepchild in my BP collection. So, the other night I'm cleaning the guns, and marveling at the hot-knife-through-butter action of NoName, the smooth, crisp no-nonsense function of the Rem, and the, ummmm...playground reject action of the little Navy, when it comes to me; Why not strip this little beastie down and see if I can help it out some, rather than just hating blindly?
With that thought in mind, I bundled it up and trotted off to see Mister Smith...or do you say Smythe?
In other words, down to the basement....
It was gonna be a strip and clean. At first. But once I got all those parts out, it became glaringly obvious why the similarity between it and the Sahara desert. The parts were rough as a cob, sharp, angular cutyerfingers edges, poorly shaped and contoured. The trigger had been stiff and horrible, with way too much creep. And now I could see why. You name it, it was.
Out came the needle files, sandpaper, stones and oil. I was not able to finish that evening, though I wanted desperately to continue long after midnight, but had to call it a night as this was still during the work week. (Work has a way of interfering with your private life that way). The action and pieces were worse than I thought. But Friday evening brought a few more hours worth of sanding, polishing, and fiddling, and when it finally went back together, it was a new gun. A little workout with Flitz on the brass, and suddenly.....
I found my self actually LIKING the thing. Whirring the cylinder was now smooth and positive, with a good, solid lockup every time. The balance was actually better than either of the .44s', and the grip felt small and solid in my hand. I could wrap two fingers around the grip, one on the trigger, and curl my pinky under the grip, as I like to do. It flicked and pointed, well, like it was part of me!
I liked the lightness, the size, and it cut a handsome profile. And I even liked the action, now. Not as good as NoName, but good. Gone was the Sandbox syndrome. It felt good in my hand. I think I'm falling in love with the little thing, dammit all!
I got me a new gun, and never even left the house! How cool is that?