Red Gauntlet , SASS 60619

That's it. The carrier not coming down most times. Will drift down a bit, to the point that I can push in the loading gate and that pushes the carrier the rest of the way down. Perhaps a cleaning is in order first.....thanks.

I have an Uberti 1873 rifle in .45 Colt that I bought 16 years back when I came to CAS. I never shot a lot of CAS matches for various reasons, but have always maintained the interest; regularly post in the Saloon. I've kept all my cowboy guns and shoot them regularly at the local ranges. Primarily my OMV .45, my Uberti .44 Russian, and my Marlin 1894 in .44 mag. But I've seldom taken out the 1873. It seems to have a delicate disposition. A few years back I had it at the range, shot modern loads, and it jammed. I think of a 'jam' as a bad interaction between a cartridge and the rifle mechanism, resulting in various kinds of hang-ups involving both. In that case, the case remained in the chamber, and the next cartridge was stuck halfway up on the lifter. A couple of pards here had the cure, and it worked like a charm. So I took it out to the range a couple of weeks ago, shooting only cowboy loads. Two or three times, it got stuck; that is, levering the action would not pull the extractor back; it was as if it was affixed to the face of the chamber. There was no 'jam' as such. Some really hard pulls brought it back. We finished off about a hundred rounds. Then last night, I watched Winchester 1873 for the first time in many moons, so, naturally, I got out the rifle to work during the movie. No ammo, of course, no dummy rounds. Just working the action and letting the hammer down easy mostly. It happened again, repeatedly. Try to work the lever, everything 'stuck', the extractor would simply not pull back from the face of the chamber. If I messed around a bit-- cocked and pulled the trigger a few times, pressed down on the extractor, worked the lever real hard, it would free up for a few cycles, then stop again. Any ideas? Note-- I have probably had fewer than a thousand rounds through this rifle total.

What we have here is a failure to communicate. My flip phone, believe it or not, does not take dictation. Flip phone: a decade or so old. A portable telephone that will accept phone calls and painstaking texts. There is a little camera with a little screen. A flip phone is not a smart phone with a hinge. It is not a smart phone, period.

There's the beauty of western Washington and Oregon. No snakes (other than little garter snakes), no chiggers, no noxious bugs of any kind except the occasional yellow jacket. So all you get is the berries--- and the thorns!

We've always picked them here. They were long-established when I was a kid, covering every vacant lot. We'd built tunnel complexes under the canes. They of course are strongly armored with thorns. We'd throw plywood, cardboard, or ladders over the canes to get deep into the thickets for picking the berries. You could accumulate gallons easily. Our native wild blackberry is a low-creeping plant, which thrives in burnt areas or at the margins of the woods. The berries are small and very good, but they are hard work, to find and to pick.

An interesting article. In Chiapas, and in particular in the area of San Juan Chamula, Coca-cola is considered a sacramental drink. I kid you not. I've been there and seen it, along with the amazing quasi-pagan, quasi-Catholic local church. The other noted beverage there is posh; sugarcane liquor. One of the singularly most interesting places I've ever been. About 7,500 feet elevation; most inhabitants are Maya.

The Himalayan blackberry is an invasive that has long since taken over the Pacific NW, but it has one virtue that other invasive plants lack: it produces copious amounts of delicious fruit. It's a good summer for them here this year and huge sweet berries are in every vacant lot, park, and woodland.

Let's say this. If I cut and paste a poem to the lady fair, so what? Anybody can do that. Ultimately, it's just cheating. If I text the same poem (not my poem, I'm not that good) from my flip phone, it takes time. I have to go through various steps to capitalize and return. I cannot use lower cases or abandon punctuation, because I'm not a barbarian. The whole thing is sort of like copying it out by hand. The lady fair knows the difference. And so do I.

I was issued an iPhone at the state agency I last worked shortly before I retired. I occasionally made a call on it, now and then a text. I found it very useful to check my calendar when I was out of the office, and most useful for checking my office email and responding where necessary I had no use whatever for its general internet capacity. I do all of that from a large-screen laptop at home. For one thing, I like to look at pictures on a large screen. Now everybody is pretending they are just fine on a tiny screen.

Same here. I do text, but the painstaking process keeps them short.

My car is new, but it's being driven by a late model.

Does Wayne have some calm reassuring words for us?

I enjoy the show; watched the first couple of seasons on DVD from the library a few years back, then started again in these last few months. But I'm giving it a rest for awhile. There is a soap opera quality to many long-running shows. And truth to tell, I get tired of Walt's extreme 'cowboy reticence' now and then! Loosen up, man....

I remember as a freshman at Cal in 1966-67 that the campus was littered with TRs, MGs, Sprites and all such small British racing green sports cars. One night I rode back to Berkeley from Davis at night in a rainstorm and had to work the TR's hand-operated windshield wipers the whole way. Pretty hairy drive.

Most ordinary folk say bullet for cartridge and no harm comes of it.

Speaking of concubines, and far from the subject of church, I have close friend who has a friend who lives in France. I've met her over here several times as she has visited my friend. She is an American, living with but not married to a Frenchman. She has an official status: a Concubine. I've seen her French medical card with the title.

Not to mention gray minivans.

Nothing is automatic. They will need to lift the stay.

I was always odd man (boy) out. My favorites were the Stude GT Hawk and the Avanti. But I did love to drive my dad's 1956 Merc station wagon with the faux wood. And his first new car, that he bought after 20 years of marriage: the 1965 Ford Galaxy LTD, a four-door hardtop with a 390 engine. Burgundy. Whadda car!

.So crazy. The 'deal' to pull out Federal law enforcement was on the agreement by the State and city that the OSP would come in and take the responsibility. I don't blame the State cops either; ridiculous situation.

9th Circuit moves in correct direction? Very gratifying. It's a start, anyway.

Hardpan, first, I'm not offended. And your story is amusing in fact and that's the spirit I took it in. Subsequent comments by some about Catholicism I think are rather preposterous. They don't offend me, because almost nothing offends me, and besides, I'm not Catholic. But they do mildly irritate me!

Interesting that a grown woman had never before been to a Protestant service, not even a wedding or funeral. I don't think I've ever encountered that. That's truly amazing in itself. Makes for an interesting tale, though. I was raised a Presbyterian, with services very much like that described, including communion, but without the prohibitions on alcohol and such. Though real wine was not used in communion, and wedding receptions held in church could not serve alcohol, this was a remnant of prohibitionist days, and there was no expectation that members would not drink. Therefore there was no 'sneaky' drinking (which still seems strange to me). I first went to Catholic services with my (future) wife in high school in the mid-'60s. Then, the churches were full. Men and women were very well dressed, just as they were in any Protestant church. All women wore head coverings. I was powerfully struck by the beauty and dignity of the Latin Mass . (Vatican II was new and the vernacular mass had not yet reached the churches.) We were married in the Catholic church, and while I never even considered becoming Catholic, I respect the Catholic church, and find anti-Catholic statements, particularly in a forum not dedicated to religion, to be ridiculous.

Certainly a Marlin 1894 in .44 mag will do nicely.

Exactly. That's how you know the clip wasn't made by an Oregonian! Willamette, as in Willamette River and Willamette Valley, is the shibboleth of Oregon, as Puyallup is of Washington. I am a graduate of wil-LAM-ett law school. Then there's Spokane. (spo-kann). I tried a case once in Spokane as co-counsel with a Nebraska lawyer. Despite my best efforts, she at one point said spo-kayn before the jury. All in the courtroom shuddered....