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It had to be the baby reloading Jesus!Freaky.... SomeOne or SomeThing was speaking thru your Unconscious Mind... glad you heard it!
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It had to be the baby reloading Jesus!Freaky.... SomeOne or SomeThing was speaking thru your Unconscious Mind... glad you heard it!
I thought he moved to Texas.Where is countrygent? Hasn't been seen in months.
Sounds like maybe you were holding it from the wrong end…. or something.When I was around 17, growing up in Kentucky, I had some buddies that had been shooting an old double barrel muzzle loader all day just across the way from my house. They shot it probably 15-20 times. They came to the house and asked if I wanted to go shoot it. Of course my dumb bubblegum said sure. Now, unknown to me at the time, they had been loading this old thing with powder out of shotgun shells they had cut down. They handed the rifle to me already loaded.
So here I go out in the field to blast away with this thing. My first two percussion caps didn't go. Placed the 3rd and said the classic, third times a charm before pulling the trigger. Things started to happen quite quickly at this point. The left barrel disintegrated at the chamber, my right hand that was on the stock was blown back with stock still in hand, the barrel flipped upward 180 degrees and the muzzle struck me in the chin and shoulder. I couldn't hear anything but ringing. Trigger, trigger guard, and neither hammer where ever found. At this point I started to check for damage. I had a light flannel jacket on that absorbed most of the frag from the barrel and the forend. Ended up with more then a few holes in my arm still though, as well as splinters of wood.
Still have the scars to remind myself. Also haven't shot a Muzzleloader since. Don't know that I ever will or want to either.