ramcharger
Dismember
I bought a pre-'64 1894 last fall and finally had a chance to pull it apart last night for a thorough cleaning and inspection. I pull any new/new to me firearm apart before firing for safety's sake and also to familiarize myself with how it works in case I run into an issue in the field.
First impression? Dang this thing is complex and a wonder of Victorian era engineering. I think I used about 8 different flat head hollow ground gunsmithing bits, two sizes of steel punches, one size brass punch and a gunsmithing nylon faced hammer to completely dissasemble the rifle into it's component parts. Granted, I'm very picky about having the exact size bit for the screw so as not to mar any of the screw heads and it was pretty gummy with old grease/oil too. Normally I don't think I'd have to use the hammer to tap some of the pins out.
Next I noticed that the bore is beautiful! It took just a little scrubbing to get the lead out. I don't think it's had 100 rounds through it in last 60 years. On the other hand it appears that the action has seen some wear and there are some vibration dings on the left side of the reciever. I get the feeling that this a companion/truck gun that was loaded in the morning, rode in the gun the gun rack or behind the seat all day then was brought in and unloaded.
According to the Winchester website, the rifle was manufactured sometime in 1955. While cleaning everything piece by piece, my mind runs amok thinking of what this rifle might have seen, the mountain hunts that it was on, the vehicles it rode in, the livestock it may have protected, and the lives it may have saved from dangerous two or four legged critters out here in Colorado.
I truly believe that the history of guns parallels the history and struggles of our nation and the people that made our great country what it is today. When I aquire a fiream like this, it's like a piece of history and of a time I'll never know. Every scratch in the stock, small divot in the reciever and wear on moving parts are like words in book that tell a story. They don't scream out at you like a newspaper headline, but are more like an old and yellowed document with holes in the creases and tattered edges. A mystery of sorts that can be talked about with friends over a glass of whiskey next to a campfire.
First impression? Dang this thing is complex and a wonder of Victorian era engineering. I think I used about 8 different flat head hollow ground gunsmithing bits, two sizes of steel punches, one size brass punch and a gunsmithing nylon faced hammer to completely dissasemble the rifle into it's component parts. Granted, I'm very picky about having the exact size bit for the screw so as not to mar any of the screw heads and it was pretty gummy with old grease/oil too. Normally I don't think I'd have to use the hammer to tap some of the pins out.
Next I noticed that the bore is beautiful! It took just a little scrubbing to get the lead out. I don't think it's had 100 rounds through it in last 60 years. On the other hand it appears that the action has seen some wear and there are some vibration dings on the left side of the reciever. I get the feeling that this a companion/truck gun that was loaded in the morning, rode in the gun the gun rack or behind the seat all day then was brought in and unloaded.
According to the Winchester website, the rifle was manufactured sometime in 1955. While cleaning everything piece by piece, my mind runs amok thinking of what this rifle might have seen, the mountain hunts that it was on, the vehicles it rode in, the livestock it may have protected, and the lives it may have saved from dangerous two or four legged critters out here in Colorado.
I truly believe that the history of guns parallels the history and struggles of our nation and the people that made our great country what it is today. When I aquire a fiream like this, it's like a piece of history and of a time I'll never know. Every scratch in the stock, small divot in the reciever and wear on moving parts are like words in book that tell a story. They don't scream out at you like a newspaper headline, but are more like an old and yellowed document with holes in the creases and tattered edges. A mystery of sorts that can be talked about with friends over a glass of whiskey next to a campfire.
