Dumb stunt

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  • Last Post 22 June 2019
cfp4570 posted this 10 June 2019

Well, just when I thought I couldn't get any more hare-brained, I prove myself wrong. I recently mixed my first batch of Ed's red and was cleaning the bore of my 45 colt H&R barrel and decided to swab out a .223 that I had run a saturated patch through the day before. I inserted the patch from the breech and as soon as it started in the bore it stopped like it hit a brick wall. My first thought was that my patch had gotten wadded up on one side of the jag so I pulled it out, easily, I might add, and all looked normal except for one little detail. Yep, you guessed it. I screwed the .22 caliber jag into a .30 caliber cleaning rod. My wife got so much enjoyment out of this that I decided I had to share this with everybody on this good forum. Go ahead, laugh it up! I sure did!

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gnoahhh posted this 10 June 2019

Not as bad as what I did last weekend. I drove 90 miles for a shooting session with a buddy and discovered I left all my ammo at home. Luckily there was a gunshop a mile away that was happy to sell me a few hundred rounds of ammo to feed my Gold Cup with.

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4060may posted this 11 June 2019

only 90 miles, Heh

went to Ridgway for the Cast Bullet Silhouette Championship, 170 miles, got there set up, no ammo

mooched 100 rds of 308W from a friend,  a little stouter than I had loaded, recoil pad was in my car at home..shoulder is still showing a bruise..

Best part of the trip , was seeing friends, Maybe we will see some of the folks on the Forum there next year.

Chuck

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dbarron posted this 22 June 2019

As long as we’re fessin’ up, I might as well testify.   When I was about 10--too long ago to be very precise on that--my cousin found a .38 super round.   I did not come from a “gunny” household.  My father apparently lost any enthusiasm he might have had for guns and shooting after winning a Government sponsored walking tour of Europe that began in June 1944.   As a result, I was, perhaps, more than normally curious about all things firearm.   And, like most 10 year old boys, especially about the part that went “bang”.   My family was visiting my grandparents, about 100 miles from our home.  My cousin had the good fortune to live next door to them.  I loved them dearly, and always envied him that.  

Cousin K and I were messing about in the basement, while the adults and girls (our sisters) were upstairs.  After careful examination of the round in question, I recall expressing some curiosity as to how it worked.   He had only very little more information on that than I, and that was zilch.  I suggested that we dismantle the thing and see what made it tick.  First, we tried to remove the bullet with pliers.   That was a non-starter.   Whether due to a 10 year old’s puny upper extremities, corrosion or a truly impressive taper crimp, I don’t know, but it wouldn’t move.  At all.   After some head scratching, we arrived at a solution.   The case was clamped in a vise and a hack saw quickly procured from among Granddad’s tools.  Well, you all know the result of that exercise.  Whether the heat set off the primer or the powder, I’ll never know, but, well, wow!   The silence that followed was more deafening than the explosion, probably due to ringing in the ears, but also to suspension of heartbeat and breathing.   We were DEAD.  Not from the incident, but the Adults MUST have heard that.  MUST HAVE.  We didn’t move for about 3 hours.   OK, maybe two minutes, but it seemed like three hours.   Nothing.  No footsteps on the stairs.  No, “What the hell are you two up to down there!”.  Nothing.   We couldn’t believe they hadn’t heard it.  Speculation as to why we got away with it has, to this day, been fruitless.  Maybe they just couldn’t believe it either.   Or maybe Granddad had something to do with it…. We were very well behaved for several hours after that.

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Ross Smith posted this 11 June 2019

Sounds like ya'll catchin' up in age with the rest of us!

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Qc Pistolero posted this 16 June 2019

Not as bad as what I did last weekend. I drove 90 miles for a shooting session with a buddy and discovered I left all my ammo at home. Luckily there was a gunshop a mile away that was happy to sell me a few hundred rounds of ammo to feed my Gold Cup with.

I once showed up at a handgun competition to find out I had forgotten the keys to open up my gun box(mandatory to lock up both the guns and the box in Canada).I couldn't shoot into that one and on the next competition I showed up,some of my friends offered me a set of those large plastic multi colored and oversized keyswe give to babies to play with.

I never forgot them after that!

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pisco posted this 17 June 2019

hi i think we have all done that

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BigMan54 posted this 17 June 2019

That may be just about the only dumb thing, I Haven't Done.

Long time Caster/Reloader, Getting back into it after almost 10yrs. Life Member NRA 40+yrs, Life S.A.S.S. #375. Does this mean a description of me as a fumble-fingered knuckle-draggin' baboon. I also drool in my sleep. I firmly believe that true happiness is a warm gun. Did I mention how much I HATE auto-correct on this blasted tablet.

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jchiggins posted this 18 June 2019

That's why I take so much equipment to the range.  I figure between the multiple firearms, assortment of ammunition, optics, bench gizmos, hats and snacks, I'm liable to have a combination of stuff that will allow me to shoot.  It's bad luck to take only one firearm or have a single purpose.  

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max503 posted this 19 June 2019

Not gun related - 

When I was a kid I put gasoline and newspaper in a cracker box, laid it on its side and lit it.

It wasn't burning good enough for me so I put my face up to the opening and blew real hard.

Talk about a blow torch to the face...…..yell

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45 2.1 posted this 22 June 2019

^^^ Hahahahaha.............. now one that my father did. Long ago he inherited his Grandmother's IverJohson top break 38.  Of course he wanted to shoot it and acquired a box of ammo at a gun store. I saw the miss fired cartridges about 30 years ago. He said he tried to get them to fire and he had multiple strikes on each and every primer UNTIL one did go off........ they were 38 Supers. He did not try any more as he said the little handgun roared rather loudly and fiercely. It did not blow either.

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