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a few more

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Got new grips in from LOK today. My goal was to make a tribute to the Jericho 941 used in the old "Cowboy Bebop" aneme. Found an early KBI import Jericho 941 with slide safety and asked LOK if they would entertain making replica Bebop style grips. They completely blew away my expectations!!! Hats off to their craftsmanship.

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Mornin', Catherine1 of Montana, aks, and ye shall be gived.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back in 1980, while Mrs tac and I were living in Germany on behalf of the Queen, a young man who had been jonesing after a Model 29 smith & Wesson for months, after getting his firearms certificate allowing him to actually go and buy one, finally found the revolver of his dreams. He bought it from a local dealer, one Terry G******, who was renowned for having very little, if anything, by way of chit-chat and conversation, especially with customers, whom he viewed as pests who upset his neatly-arranged displays of shooting accessories. Having arrove at the gun store, agleam with anticipation [remember that this was 1980 UK, and the buying of a new revolver, especially a .44 Magnum, was a mite special]. The conversation went thusly - and I'm told this by a person whom I later came to know as a good friend and shooting pla, now sadly gathered to his fathers.

Terry Grimley [TG] and Customer X [CX] -

Cx - 'Ayoop, Mr Grimley, how dost tha' be t'day - orreet?' [translation - Good Mr Grimley, and how are you today? Thriving, I trust?' - Perhaps I ought to have mentioned that CX came from Lancashire, where many of the locals actually talk like this]. Ah've c'mova t'ollect yon revolver that y'telt us about, tha'knows. [Tr - Here I am to pick up that revolver that you told me about, OK?]

TG - 'Awreet. 'eer'tis.' [he then produces the 4" barrel Model 29 that I showed you earlier, only at that time, of course, it was gleamingly new and temptingly luscious, like all new guns can be.] 'Hast tha' got thy ticket wi'ya?' [Tr. - 'Yes, do you have your Firearms Certificate with you?']

CX - 'Ay, that I do! Be 'yardly likely t'coom wi'out en, likely as 'ow Ah'd be going wowm emtpy'anded, like, eh?' [Tr. Indeed I do! I would hardly arrive without it, since if that were to be the case, I would be returning home empty-handed, would I not?]

TG - 'Thass true, tha' knows. Lemme write 'un in t't ticket. Ah spose tha'll be wantin' some bullets, too, eh?' [Tr. Truer words have never been uttered. Let me now enter the details into your FAC and out of my register. I dare say that you will be looking to purchase some suitable ammunition as well, will you not?]

CX 'Oh, ay. I'll 'ave a nundred of whatever tha's got to suit, tha'knows... [Tr - Indeed, yes. I'd like a hundred of whatever you have in stock that you deem suitable, if that's OK with you...']

TG [cackling bewhilst] - Ah've got just the stuff for ya - that'll suit yon short-barrelled gun good n'proper, that, Howforth, there's but a single box of twenty in stock, tha' knows, and it's fierce bloody dear, bein' as 'ow most folks reload. [Tr - I have the very thing, but sadly there is but a single box in stock. And by-the-by, you are no doubt aware that is is VERY expensive, especially in view of the fact that most who shoot this calibre are reloaders...'

CX - 'Thass aw'reet, Mr Grimley, no doubt tha'll get moor in eventual-like, reet?' Any road oop. here's the dosh, an l'll be mekkin' tracks t't range and do some shootin'! Ah'm that made oop' w'it, tha'knows. Dost tha'realise Ah've bin waiting nigh on six mumfs f'today to 'appen, like? [Tr - That's fine, Mr Grimley, I have no doubt that you will eventually be restocking. Anyhow, here is the payment, and I'll be making my way to the range to do some shooting. You know how much I've been for this very day?]

TG - 'Ay, tek keer.' [Tr. I do indeed, now off you go and take good care of yourself, won't you?]

Some time later that morning he appeared at the range clutching his simple pistol case, containing a a battered but much-loved Ruger Mk I, and a large blue cardboard box holding his new revolver. First unlimbering the .22, he proceeded to shoot a couple of cards in a desultory fashion - plainly his mind was on his new revolver nestling in its wrapping. Looking around, to ensure that he had an audience of enraptured fans - he produced, to a series of gasps from the other shooters - his drop-dead gorgeous new S&W. Nonchalantly tearing the end off the box of ammunition, he casually dropped the cartridges into the freshly cleaned chambers with that noticeable 'chook, chook' that we all know and love.

Then, after adjusting his careful one-handed grip, he took aim at the 25 yard distant target, cocked the hammer, and let rip.

After the initial K-boom, that left shockwaves resounding in the wriggly-tin [Tr. corrugated iron] firing point, others noted that there had been a very strong 'PLAAAAANG' sound that followed almost immediately on the first shot. The shooter stood there, jaw hanging open like a newly-hanged man, looking back and forth at the target and the still-smoking revolver. He carefully unloaded the remaining four cartridges, putting them back in the box, looked around and muttered something about having to go and see to his pigeons, got the gun cleared off the range, and left.

He left behind him a bemused audience, a target with a single hole in it - about four inches left of the black - and a roof with a torn hole in it where the second shot, triggered instinctively as the gun reached the vertical, had cleared three layers of corrugated iron that made up the roof of the range building.

It seems that he never shot it again.

Fast forward to 1992, and I am over in the Perry Gun room, home-based dealership of my old pal, the much-missed Norman Cheesewright. I am looking at a very fine, utterly mint example of a short-barreled S&W Model 29, still with all the wrapping paper and cleaning brush, and buying it.

'I've got some ammunition for it here, if you're interested, even though I know you reload. There's eighteen left and two empties, and I'm unlikely to ever sell it - nobody I know would be daft enough to shoot this stuff in a short-barrel gun like that.'

I'll have it anyway, sez I, just for a laff - I can give a round or two to somebody who's shot EVERYTHING and knows EVERYTHING - you know the kind of person - we all have them in our gun clubs.

Right, said Norman with a chuckle - He'd have to be desperate to shoot these 300gr solids 'TO BE USED ONLY IN THOMPSON CONTENDER SINGLE-SHOT PISTOL' in anything else.
 
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Model 29 .44Mag [but you all knew that, right?]

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Model 686 'Trophy' - called that here in yUK. I sold the Hogue grips to a pal in Germany, and all the leatherwork and six speedloaders to the Government for a lot of money. Figuring I would need the empties for the eventual buyment of an underlever, I kept around three hundred, and sold the other thousand or so to the government. I ended up with a Super Redhawk, but it's just so freakin' ugly I don't want to show it again.
686 is a damn fine wheel gun
 

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