Old Fire

In order to take a step back from the daily task of life I decided to fine tune my get home bag; thought I'd beat the mosquitoes and gnats and take advantage of our beautiful weather...two out of three isn't bad. Ever had a gnat build a nest inside your nose...

Anyhow...last week I found a stash of Vietnam era Hexamine fuel tabs, several bundles of the tubes to be exact, and a few Trioxane tabs. The Trioxane I'd dumped in a closet after a long ago camp trip and had flat forgotten the bag of hot stuff. Both these fuel tabs work well with the little stamped tin Esbit stoves.

Esbit stove, Germany.

I'd hate to depend on fuel tabs and Esbit stoves for all my on the road meals, but hey, it beats cold MRE's and coffee. The wee tabs will heat a cup of water for a nice mug of tea or hot chocolate. I've owned several Esbit stoves in my life. Most I lose. One I left on the banks of river when I packed in a hurry during a bad flood. They're cheap, buy two. In my humble opinion they fall under the category of a back-up to your main heat source.

A very old tube of Hexamine fuel tabs. 

Ragnar Benson had some very useful purposes for Hexamine tabs. The government ceased production probably for that very reason. I'll let you do the homework. I only have a few left, so no, I will not share.

Trioxane, package of, hot stuff.

Both fuel tabs burn clean and will burn the dickens out of your fingers if you hold the tab when you  set a match to it...light the fuel tablets on the ground or stove. I've even used my boot heel to slap out a slight trench and placed the tabs inside with cup atop.

Esbit stoves are sold on Ebay and arrive with a package of German brand fuel tabs, cheap.

Check those get home bags...if you lack an Esbit and fuel tabs they make a great addition and take very little space. The little Esbit is made of stamped metal and weights next to nothing. Just picture a cold wet night as you hunker down under the tarp...all those zombie democritters hot on your trail and the comfort a single fuel tab will provide.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Stephen

Not now...

We have a soft rain. It's quiet and business is slow. My coffee is hot and I've a good book.

Not the one pictured, but its still a good read.

Later,

Stephen

Never Again

I shall never again spend a penny at Wal-Mart. Never did shop at Dick's Sporting Goods as I always thought of the place a metro-sexual joint.

Seems each has decided, as is their right, to pull semi-auto sporting rifles from the shelves.

Ragnar and Mel have rolled in their graves.

Stephen

The Gang & The Gunshow

Just now home from church and fried chicken. Sweet Wife is happy. This is the third time in a month she's tricked me into attending a brick and mortar church.  I've been a good boy- didn't say a word during any of the services. I simply slipped my Kindle out and read, elbow or no elbow.

*****

Yesterday was fun. Our group gathered at a local gunshow. The cast of characters included, yours truly and my Sweet Wife. (At first she declined. Then she was informed our good friend, Jacked Up Glock Mom planned to escort her husband, Senior Chief, so Sweet Wife quickly changed her mind.) Along with our other best friends, Pirate Jim, and Rebel, we had a six pack.

Two of our group missed out - Duke, away on vacation, and Shooter Steve. Shooter Steve is a newly wed and has yet mastered the ability to check his email so missed out on a great gunshow and lunch. He's young and I'm sure in time he'll learn.

We gathered at the door of the venue at 0900, after of course, we disarmed. Ironic isn't it...one must first unload their concealed weapons to attend a gun show. So I walk inside with two full magazines attached to my belt.

The ladies went left, the guys right.

Gunshows smell good, at least to me. The scent of oil and wood and leather fills the air. I love the racks of old firearms and the bits and pieces of gear and spare parts, cleaning rods and brushes and countless AR grips. Old slings and trench knives with the odd sun bleached olive drab ammo pouches.

We took our time, ambled along. The prices were very high, almost ridiculous. I've attended many shows in my lifetime, more than I can count, and I've never seen prices reach such levels. Most, I dare say, high retail.  My expectations of a deal died quickly. My want list was small when I approached the door, it quickly shrank. The list included a lower, a few spare AR parts, perhaps some ammo along with .50 caliber ammo cans, and books.

I scored on three out of five. I did find a Ragnar Benson.

As you can see above, I also found a Spikes lower. I did find a few PMS lowers but the dealer was a pawn shop owner and was awful proud of his inventory, so I passed.

My good friend, Pirate Jim, stumbled across a nice M1. He's a collector of vintage military rifles. Its a fine disease. He paid and took his new baby home. Sweet Wife said of Pirate Jim, "He's so sweet. Look how he's holds his rifle. Just like a baby." I thought, 'Well heck yes, why shouldn't he.'

Above, Pirate Jim stands next to a display of gun culture themed books.

At one point Rebel and I came upon a display of private arms. I've noticed over the last few years dealers will proudly display 'private sale' signs on their booths. Loop holes be damned. I've also noticed their booths are knee deep in business. As we checked out this dealer's inventory Rebel spotted a nice little Revelation pump .410, the prefect little squirrel weapon. He and the dealer bickered a bit and Rebel walked away with a fine little Mossberg built shotgun. Pump .410's are fairly scarce. Revelation was a Western Auto store brand.

Above a display of .300 Blackout barrels and lowers. Local manufacturer. Senior Chief's next AR build.

At one point, as I filled out a 4473, Rebel walked over and asked if I wanted a piece of action in a bulk ammo can purchase. Said, yes. The dealer wanted ten dollars each. We checked each seal, stacked the cans, and smiled all afternoon. I walked away with five.

I'll take a step into dangerous territory - ready....never, ever, take your wives to a gunshow.  As I've said, I took my time to stroll up and down each aisle. I was happy...then, the women began to complain. They're hungry. Their backs hurt. Their feet were sore. I've yet to take in half the show. Guess what.

We ignored them. Above, Pirate Jim and his new baby. Displayed on the table, Rebel's .410.

Then, the women came back and slapped us. Above, my Sweet Wife. If you look closely you'll see she has a little AR-15 ink pen, a gift to me. She's clutches other secret booty. I've found it best to hold tight to my wallet.

And, above, my wallet next to a sack which holds a .22 conversion kit. Notice the price.

The women finally won. The gang followed Rebel's jeep to lunch. During lunch the rain's began to fall.

I'm rich with friends.

Stephen

A Weekend Off

Just home from a Mexican dinner with Sweet Wife. I'm stuffed. I was allowed my one Corona. She was nice to me tonight.

I'm taking the weekend off. I'm tired, wore out, whupped, and whipped. All my friends along with yours truly shall take our place at the front door of a local gunshow tomorrow morning at 0900. I haven't a need for another firearm so shall seek out the little things. I need a new AR multi-tool. I'll look for small parts, perhaps another well made lower for another build; I hear Palmetto State has made a name for itself with their careful craftsmanship and attention to detail on their basic lowers...we'll see. At less than eighty dollars and without a shipping cost its a fine deal.

Since I skipped the last gunshow I'll get another chance to browse for a few books too. Maybe fill in my Ragnar Benson collection. There is a chance I'll make an ammunition purchase, not sure.

*****

I hate the Olympics....let's keep this between us.

*****

It's time to break out my Kindle. I'd like to reread Unintended Consequences once more for old times sake. Take care my friends, and sometime late tomorrow I'll tell you about all the fun and adventure we had at the gunshow.

Stephen

Chamber Adapters for the Survivalist

I was a young man in my twenties when I first used a chamber adapter in a shotgun. I had known of them for years having seen the ads in Shotgun News and The American Rifleman, but for some reason or another had never tried one. Then one day I read a piece written by Ragnar Benson and set out to find my own.

Chamber Adapters give you the ability to employ different rifle and shotgun cartridges in certain weapon platforms. For instance; you have a single shot 12 gauge shotgun (one barrel) and you feel the need to shoot all that .308 ammunition old Uncle Bert left you when he died, and you know you're the smartest cookie at Ernie's Shoot-em-up Sporting Goods Store, you purchase a .308 chamber adapter, and you're on the way to poaching fame.

Someone once said chamber adapters (also known as Inserts) were the poor man's suppressor. They are not as quiet as a good suppressor (or as the Fudd's and Hollywood idiots refer to them, silencer)  but they do reduce the noise of a fired shot considerably. I've used .22 adapters in an old double barreled shotgun of mine for years on squirrels and I'd be hard pressed to say any good five hundred dollar suppressor could equal its performance.

Chamber adapters have been around for many years. Marbles, the old now long gone sporting goods company, made them in the thousands. A fellow named Harry Owen made his name when he introduced the little 'Four-Tenner,' a beautiful piece of engineering that allowed one to use .410's in 12 gauge chambers.
Back before Ebay was wussyfied it was possible to find a 'four-tenner' listed for bid, but alas, those days are long gone. As of this writing Gun Broker.com has its predecessor, now made by 'Little Skeeters,' listed for bid starting at about $39.00 and up. Or you could just go to their website (Google) and purchase direct.

Chamber adapters have many uses. Like I said at the beginning of this post, my first experience with a chamber adapter was in the woods of Washington State while still hunting in the Olympic Mountains. I was easing through the woods on a hunt for Blue Grouse, the dumbest bird God ever created. They seldom flush unless you walk over and slap one up side its head. Anyway, that day I had the left barrel of my old Stevens double loaded with a .22 chamber insert and my right with 12 gauge birdshot.  
The first covey I spotted had about fifteen birds in it, all sitting on the lower branches of a hemlock and a few surrounding rocks. They seldom flush, and if you don't believe me, just ask anyone that has ever hunted Blue Grouse. Indians used stones to kill them, serious.
I lacked accurate rock throwing skills so instead used my left barrel and sent a .22 shot at the first fat bird I could get my sights on; we're talking two plus pounds of sweet breast meat here. I barely noticed the sound. Puff, like that.
It was almost orgasmic, almost.
Shot six to seven birds before they wised up and got the hell out of Dodge.

Now, without revealing much detail, I'm sure you can use your imagination and understand how chamber adapters could be utilized in the event of 'that day.'  Replace the .22 with a .357 or a .45acp, and I think you'll get the picture. A double load (or with a few differently loaded adapters in your pouch) of readiness for any situation.
Chamber adapters are also manufactured for rifles. You have .32acp for .308 & 30/06 for example. A quiet load of death indeed. Accuracy is wonderful as the adapters are rifled. It's a practical way to use all that mixed ammunition in grandma's kitchen junk drawer for practice and small game hunting.
I do recommend you place a small piece of wooden dowel in your bag for extracting (or to push) fired cases. Sometimes, but not always, the fired cases will prove to be a booger to get out. I've seldom had problems but it can happen.

Give 'em a try.

Stephen

Survivalist Library

Before I begin let me state for the record any book I post here is for research purposes only. Do not, I repeat, do not purchase these books (if you can indeed find them) and use the information found within. They are only for reading enjoyment and to further your education.

Many years ago I lived in western Washington state.  One day out of the blue I received a book catalog in the mail from a little publisher in a neighboring coastal town.  Obviously my address came from a subscribers list.  I subscribed to close to a hundred book catalogs. Many of my older readers will remember book catalogs, not so much with you younger folks.  The name on the catalog was Loompanics Unlimited. When I first read the catalog I thought to myself, "Is this stuff legal, and if it isn't, I want these books." I'm weird that way.

One of the authors listed within was Ragnar Benson. This man and I, I came to realize, were kindred souls. The publisher's number was listed on the catalog, I called. Had a brief conversation with the publisher, a nice man, small company, and before long I had not only ordered four books but was given the true name of Ragnar Benson (his pen name, which I'd never reveal as he still writes) and thus so grew another collection of wonderful books and hours of fireside reading.

I own many, but not all, of his books. Many of his early works are out of print and are very difficult to find. Oh, trust me, they are out there, just difficult to track down. Many states, those controlled by Socialist and as such no longer a part of our country, outright ban their sale. This alone is enough reason for me to find and own them. When a state tells me I can't own (or do) something, well, they've just shown their willingness to tinkle all over my/our Constitution.

I have holes in my collection because I'm one of those guys that collects first editions, when possible. If you search hard enough you will find those out of print editions. Most will be found listed on the used market at places like Abebooks.com. There you will find fifteen (15) pages of his books, paperbacks. One used copy, as I write this, is listed at close to $300.00, that's used remember, but most can be had for less than thirty dollars. Some of the very rare works, when they hit the market sell well north of a thousand dollars. Remember, it's the contents for which you're bidding and the prices are high.

Allow me once more to remind you these books and their contents are dangerous. If you have any military background at all you should understand. If you are a novice and have never had experience with weapons, explosives, traps are any of the other subjects on which Ragnar Benson writes, do not try at home. It will hurt you.

Here is a very small sample of my favorites.  Remember, many of these are illegal to sale and own in many states. California comes to mind.

Please excuse my poor photography, I took these picture with my cell phone on my desk.

Any man or woman with a set big enough to try and make C-4 on his kitchen stove will get a handshake from me.

Loompanics Unlimited was finally sold in 2006 to Paladin Press. It was a sad day for me but I thought Paladin would do right by their authors. I was wrong. The government, as is its nature, began to put tons of pressure on Paladin because of law suits filed by those in pink clogs with their sweaters draped over their shoulders with its arms crossed over their skinny little chests. Some fool read one of the books published, used the information and went out and killed a man.
They blamed the publisher.

One day I purchased a Ragnar book at one of our local gunshows. On its cover was a red tag. The red tag stated Paladin Press does not endorse or intend for the contents to be used for criminal purposes, the information inside is for information purposes only. It went on, Paladin Press will cooperate with law enforcement investigations. In other words they'd tell the alphabet agencies you purchased the book from them.
They lost all my respect. I understand why the tag was attached, but sorry, I'll buy on the black market.

Ragnar Benson has written on many subjects. He has a style all his own. Many of the subjects are very current to today's world events and should be on your library shelves. For instance.

A fine read if there ever was one.


Stephen