Day 184 CJSM

Day 184

 

 

Shooting the muzzleloader---

Who knew it took so long to load?

 

 

Born 120 years---too…late!? My self-pitting lament for low these many years.

Yeah! Really! I often fantasize about my life if I had come here in 1847 instead of 1947.

True enough, I reckon, I’d have known none of the people I have come to love; they may reflect on this confession and muse a world-of-peace absent this old man. Hmm! I wonder?

So, I live like I believe the “mountain men” of the second half of the 1800’s; a world replete with “real men” who practiced Independent-Individualism as a matter-of-fact. In this “modern” world of S.I. (sophisticated-idiocy) of obfuscated “truth” (whatever is “cool” at the moment worshipped by a mindless cadre of weak-kneed lilly-livered “followers” so completely self-centered that there is no other existence save their own miserable fantasy-lives.

So, in this mind I am blessed (or, cursed) with, I strive to live in another culture and society where “honesty” is treasured as sacred and “honor” is a way-of-life to be emulated. Thank you!

One small chance to reach into that measured past is to delve into its customs. Thus, I purchased a .50 caliber muzzle loading black powder rifle. Already a “gun” afficianado by chosen practice, I even indulged into reloading for center fire pistol and rifle shooting, developing loads with various powder types, charges and bullet weights keeping records on the performance of each concoction. I did a ton of paper target shooting and a bit of hunting, too.

That muzzle loader brought my high flying fantasy world of my dearly lamented 1800’s back to the reality of earth and advancements in human society and culture.It is quite one thing to “reload” spent brass with modern fast burning powder utilizing various bullet designs, shapes and weights and shooting a cumbersome, long barreled, heavy octagon barreled rifle that loads from the business end rather than simply slipping a shiny brass cartridge into the receiver of a sporty-looking modern rifle. The ordeal of reloading the “antique” can only be described as arduous! Accurate? The very best. But…!?

At first, I fully enjoyed the tedious experience; a lot of pure fun worth the time demanded.

But, the luster of a dream-fantasy tarnished more than slightly when I had to clean the barrel’s bore of burned black powder before oiling the weapon. Hot, soapy water in the sink and an immersion of the blued-metal barrel into the solution ramming a cleaning rod through the bore.

As a collector of weapons, at the time, water and fine metal did not set well. Rust? Hmm!

I let the kids and Candy shoot the monstrosity; only one tome each, by choice, as I recall.

I had hung it on the fireplace chimney and it looked beautiful. I persevered for a few years; eventually I gave the ancient weapon to cousin-Eric who still has it, some 25 years later.

I reckon some things are best accepted as they are and left alone. Hard fact for a Dreamer!

 

Ah! Cookie Jar Sweet “black-powder” Memories!