Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted

Thursday, 16 July 2015

Range Notes

I have always been a .45 ACP guy. It's all Col. Jeff Cooper's fault; along with the cool kids that owned the range when IPSC became wildly popular. I never caught the IPSC bug but I fell hard for the 1911 Flu and still have it today.

My first serious handgun was this heart throb:



The owner of my gun store was a kindly man that knew I was a young man with a new family that had his hands full paying for baby food and diapers...never mind scrounging enough for a good handgun. Bless his heart - he gave me this one for $425.00. I originally had to pass on it because all I could scrape together was $400.00 and change. It almost tears me up to remember him saying 'Filthie, your killing me, here! No, I ain't selling it to your for $400.00, you'll take the goddamn gun and owe me the other $25.00 and pay me later...'.

That gun was the BEST .45 ACP I ever shot! It was a chit house Auto Ordnance stock gun that some rich kid tried to pimp into a race gun. It had an alloy frame though, so he took the compensator and other farkles off, put it up on consignment - and it ended up in my lap. The trigger's been done by a master and it broke like glass. It shot circles around the Colt Delta Elites, and ate the National Cup guns for breakfast. Newbs and pros marvelled at what a fine shooter my bargain basement gun was. The gun store owner almost wept with regret at passing this gun onto a piker welfare case customer too! I dunno how many pounds of lead and powder went down that girl's gullet, but the Parkerizing slowly came off, a barrel bushing cracked - and I foolishly gave it to a phony gunsmith to refinish and restore...and it never shot the same again. Who woulda thunk my first gun out the gate would be that 'once in a lifetime' gun?

Years later my situation and finances vastly improved - but my job sucked balls. My manager and I were butting heads in an almost weekly ritual and I finally lost my shit on him. I got up, walked out of his office and told him I was going to the gun shop to buy a pistol to shoot him with! He couldn't believe it and tagged along to see where I was really going. He was stunned when I waltzed into Ye Olde Gun Shoppe and picked out this Heckler and Puke:


He figured he had better be able to defend himself and he bought a beautiful Sig P210. After that we had our meetings at the gun range and complete civility broke out. The HK USP .45 Tactical is probably one of the best polymer guns out there. It has a superb trigger for a factory gun...but it never shot with the same accuracy that my old 1911 did. It's a great gun; I still have it and may still shoot it...but I want to shoot classic 230 gr. RN bullets at around 850 FPS. After awhile I started getting homesick for the old 1911 again.

I'm at that age where I am too old to work and too young to retire so I figured I am going to get my grail guns while I can - and sail into my golden years with the best toys possible. I bought a sweet 20 guage SxS shotgun. I bought a match Springfield M1A. That rifle impressed me so much, I figured I better grab a match pistol from them too!


And...here I am today. An ageing stubfart and gun club duffer with some semi-respectable heavy metal guns! Unfortunately...I dunno if this one is my last pistol or not. I need to reload for it and see what it can do but preliminary testing shows that it shoots right on par with the HK. Very disappointing in a gun that costs about $300.00 more than the HK did.

Today I spent my lunch time stinking out the range with my marksmanship, but the nice thing about recoil therapy is that during my session today - I stopped being the grumpy old stubfart for about a half hour...and became that young, 20 year old kid with a box of ammo and not a care in the world beyond that!

If only a man could make that feeling last the whole day...!

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