*Disclosure: I am a stalwart bolt action and revolver guy. Being medical, I work with sophisticated technology, but when it comes to firearms and hunting gear, I value simplicity.
When I have free time, I don’t want to spend it on the workbench, shooting range or talking to bald guys in black shirts at the toy store. I want to be in the field. I recognize that my blunderbuss lacks the tactical advantages of increased capacity and rate fire, but I am OK with that. And every time I watch a video and get tempted to push money at a semi automatic, I head to the general discussion forum; clicking on a few posts entitled, “Help!” rapidly pinches that candle wick.
Calves were dropping down on the Rio Grande Valley a couple months ago, so I head down to guard the herd. Roll a few hogs the first night with my trusty bolt action .270. On the second night, the property owner didn’t go; I sling his new Grendel / Apex XQ50 and head out looking forward to my first mag drop.
The thermal from Third Coast is marvelous and a definite upgrade from my Apex 38. Combine that with the billy badass Grendel and a few dozen rounds in the mags- I am going to be death on a cracker tonight!
First opportunity comes with a called coyote; I connect with the first shot but he’s still running. I have to admit - it certainly is nice to be able to quickly re-acquire without bolting and drop him before he hits the brush. Probably couldn’t have done that with the bolt; perhaps I should rethink my stance on the bang bang.
But it doesn’t sound quite right. I check the weapon:
(I’m surprised, but not much, having had an identical occurrence when qualifying for my concealed with a borrowed 9. Just part of the deal when dealing with semi automatic weapons).
Clear it, and being alone and on foot, rack a round, safety and move on.
Next shot comes an hour later with a hog in an open field. Stagger him with the first round, line up again and… failure to fire.
It’s dark now, so I can’t see. Thinking the ejection issue had reoccurred, I tilt the rifle to starboard, pull the charging handle to clear and get back on the scope.
He’s still moving toward the brush, but at half speed. Green crossbow reticle on his nose and squeeze.
But the only thing dead is the silence. Because the damn thing just won’t fire.
So now I’m standing in the middle of a cut cornfield watching a wounded hog stagger into a thicket in South Texas cussing up a blue streak and wishing to Gawd and Johnny Cash that I was holding a piece of reliable steel.
And being very glad that hogs don’t shoot back. Because I would be very dead.
Turn on my headlamp, pull the charging handle and see a dinged primer in the chamber. Maybe Barnes let me down with a bad round, but it hadn’t felt like the firing pin had struck. And it absolutely will not eject.
Of course, I have my bolt action with thermal in the truck, but I am thoroughly pissed, which is a dangerous way to hunt. Plus, the owner deserves to know that I already done broke their fancy new gun, so I head back to the ranch house.
Give report, show the photo. They push out a spent shell with the cleaning rod, remove and examine the ejector.
I don’t take a photo, but the part of the lip is obviously broken off. Almost certainly happened when it slammed against the unejected casing.
They break open another platform and replace the bolt; the interchangeability is a nice feature. But I don’t know what caused the FTE (too small gas port, unpolished extractor, sharp ejector pin tip, weak spring, insufficient O-ring...), and I am here to protect the livestock, not participate in an unscheduled metallurgy and gun smithing workshop.
Follow up report: They take the rifle to the gunsmith. He contacts the manufacturer. Who states, “Wow, this has never happened before. We will send a replacement.”
I hear this, and await the call from their head engineer.
Because, of course, when you have an unheard of failure on a critical component on a brand new weapon, you will certainly want to get a first-hand report of the occurrence, right? And the photo of the unejected round that caused the issue, right?
Because when you have manufactured tens of thousands of weapons that have fired millions of rounds without breaking a single bolt, you should be really intrigued that an amateur standing in a cornfield has managed to destroy one in just two rounds and you want to talk to him, right?
Evidently...nope.
Big picture=successful hunt.
Coyote and hog down in three rounds.
And my brief foray into semi has increased my admiration for those with the technical knowledge, time and willingness to make these marvelous beasts perform perfectly.
As for me, I will trust my humble atlatl, not carry a bag of tools and replacement parts, and avoid hours on the workbench and websites for optimal performance.
~~~As for any comments, I have a simple request: Please refrain from using the words “Should” and “Never”.
When I have free time, I don’t want to spend it on the workbench, shooting range or talking to bald guys in black shirts at the toy store. I want to be in the field. I recognize that my blunderbuss lacks the tactical advantages of increased capacity and rate fire, but I am OK with that. And every time I watch a video and get tempted to push money at a semi automatic, I head to the general discussion forum; clicking on a few posts entitled, “Help!” rapidly pinches that candle wick.
Calves were dropping down on the Rio Grande Valley a couple months ago, so I head down to guard the herd. Roll a few hogs the first night with my trusty bolt action .270. On the second night, the property owner didn’t go; I sling his new Grendel / Apex XQ50 and head out looking forward to my first mag drop.
The thermal from Third Coast is marvelous and a definite upgrade from my Apex 38. Combine that with the billy badass Grendel and a few dozen rounds in the mags- I am going to be death on a cracker tonight!
First opportunity comes with a called coyote; I connect with the first shot but he’s still running. I have to admit - it certainly is nice to be able to quickly re-acquire without bolting and drop him before he hits the brush. Probably couldn’t have done that with the bolt; perhaps I should rethink my stance on the bang bang.
But it doesn’t sound quite right. I check the weapon:
(I’m surprised, but not much, having had an identical occurrence when qualifying for my concealed with a borrowed 9. Just part of the deal when dealing with semi automatic weapons).
Clear it, and being alone and on foot, rack a round, safety and move on.
Next shot comes an hour later with a hog in an open field. Stagger him with the first round, line up again and… failure to fire.
It’s dark now, so I can’t see. Thinking the ejection issue had reoccurred, I tilt the rifle to starboard, pull the charging handle to clear and get back on the scope.
He’s still moving toward the brush, but at half speed. Green crossbow reticle on his nose and squeeze.
But the only thing dead is the silence. Because the damn thing just won’t fire.
So now I’m standing in the middle of a cut cornfield watching a wounded hog stagger into a thicket in South Texas cussing up a blue streak and wishing to Gawd and Johnny Cash that I was holding a piece of reliable steel.
And being very glad that hogs don’t shoot back. Because I would be very dead.
Turn on my headlamp, pull the charging handle and see a dinged primer in the chamber. Maybe Barnes let me down with a bad round, but it hadn’t felt like the firing pin had struck. And it absolutely will not eject.
Of course, I have my bolt action with thermal in the truck, but I am thoroughly pissed, which is a dangerous way to hunt. Plus, the owner deserves to know that I already done broke their fancy new gun, so I head back to the ranch house.
Give report, show the photo. They push out a spent shell with the cleaning rod, remove and examine the ejector.
I don’t take a photo, but the part of the lip is obviously broken off. Almost certainly happened when it slammed against the unejected casing.
They break open another platform and replace the bolt; the interchangeability is a nice feature. But I don’t know what caused the FTE (too small gas port, unpolished extractor, sharp ejector pin tip, weak spring, insufficient O-ring...), and I am here to protect the livestock, not participate in an unscheduled metallurgy and gun smithing workshop.
Follow up report: They take the rifle to the gunsmith. He contacts the manufacturer. Who states, “Wow, this has never happened before. We will send a replacement.”
I hear this, and await the call from their head engineer.
Because, of course, when you have an unheard of failure on a critical component on a brand new weapon, you will certainly want to get a first-hand report of the occurrence, right? And the photo of the unejected round that caused the issue, right?
Because when you have manufactured tens of thousands of weapons that have fired millions of rounds without breaking a single bolt, you should be really intrigued that an amateur standing in a cornfield has managed to destroy one in just two rounds and you want to talk to him, right?
Evidently...nope.
Big picture=successful hunt.
Coyote and hog down in three rounds.
And my brief foray into semi has increased my admiration for those with the technical knowledge, time and willingness to make these marvelous beasts perform perfectly.
As for me, I will trust my humble atlatl, not carry a bag of tools and replacement parts, and avoid hours on the workbench and websites for optimal performance.
~~~As for any comments, I have a simple request: Please refrain from using the words “Should” and “Never”.
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