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Father Kit Cool Gun Garth

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Posts posted by Father Kit Cool Gun Garth

  1. I know manufacturers try to get the most from their consumers when it comes to buying their products. 

    But the consumer actually gets less product based on the way it's packaged!

    Case in point:


    I found that every brand of applesauce in the store was packaged the same way. 

    A plastic jar that has "ribs" all along the sides,  with an inverted bottom which pushes up into the jar,  and topped off with a mouth that is almost half the diameter of the jar itself. 

    This leads to the applesauce hiding in all these crevices and almost impossible,  without extra effort,  to get out of the jar. 

    Then they cover it up with a label that hides these areas.

    This is not the only product that has these features,  but just wanted to vent about it. 

    Thank you for indulging me in this rant.





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  2. With the election closing in on us soon, thoughts about the qualifications to be eligible for the position has come to mind again, at least for me.

    You see, the Constitution states:


    The Constitution lists only three qualifications for the Presidency — the President must be 35 years of age, be a natural born citizen, and must have lived in the United States for at least 14 years.


    I believe it should be amended to include some or all of the suggestions below:

    • No older than 70 years of age;
    • Must provide a physicians report of mental capacity and physical health status and pass both;
    • Served in the military;
    • Attended a College or University and received a degree;
    • Held a professional job as a career;
    • Served in a governing position such as City Council, Mayor, Governor, etc.;
    • Member of the Senate, Congress, Court System, etc.


    I'm sure you can come up with many more, and I'd be interested in your thoughts on the issue.



  3. The long days ride took it's toll on him, and though he should have fallen fast asleep by now, his mind would not let him. Even Orion, ever restless, especially at night, kept watch for any dangers that may be lurking in it's midst. A true companion, this gentle black splash stallion was the only one Kit could rely on. Orion was never tied up, for he would protect Kit from any harm, and never leave his presence.
    Kit's thoughts soon drifted to the events of this last year of his life and although the flickery flames of the fire did keep him warm, at least on the outside, his heart was still cold.
    He had finally made it to Stone Creek, albeit of his own willing. Not one to meddle or interfere into the business of others, there were those that perceived him as a threat. Though he appeared to be a stranger to them, they would not remember the young boy who lived with his  grandfather on his ranch outside of town.
    Besides, he had business of his own to attend to in town anyway, not that it mattered to them, even if they knew.
    He had stopped by the Land Office, to see one J. Mark Flint, Attorney At Law.
    You see, I came with a deed to 200 acres of land at the base of Badger Mountain just outside of Stone Creek I had inherited from my grandfather who had obtained the rights to the land long before Stone Creek became a sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere.

  4. The winter wind was now whipping the heavy falling snow into a blinding curtain of white that made it difficult for Kit to even see the black mane of Orion as he made his way through the tall, narrow pass on his way to East Fork.

    He couldn’t recall the last hot meal he had, and even the thought of such a meal made his stomach twist into a knot even more. He decided he must find shelter soon and make camp before darkness falls.

    They prodded along for what seemed like hours, and even though the snowstorm had now stopped as quickly as it started, it yielded no comfort to him as his numb fingers seemed frozen to Orion’s reins as one. The gaping opening at the end of the pass was now in sight, and soon they found themselves facing an open range.

    Some 50 yards further, a small grouping of mesquite seemed like a reasonable place to make home for the night.

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  5. TM:

          Here is the best site I have found so far.


          They list 30 vendors, ALL of which list the item as OUT OF STOCK.

          I took the liberty of going into each one to verify they were currently out of stock, even the DPW Gunsmith which appeared to show it had stock.

          As a note, when you do your search on the Internet, search by the UPC Code which will get you the specific firearm you are searching for. That UPC Code is:


         Hope this helps.

         Also, as UB alluded to, it is not Stainless but Original Antique with a Walnut Stock with an Old Glory Flag Inlay.



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  6. 5 minutes ago, Trigger Mike said:

    I have found the cap and ball version but the 45lc version looks stainless.   I want to pair it with the cabelas 1860 army with white grips and American flag my wife gave me for Christmas years ago


           This one?

           Cimarron 1860 R-m Old Glory
            Typ2 .45lc 8" Fs Cc/bl Walnut


    Cimarron 1860 R-m Old Glory


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  7. Exactly one year ago today, I entered an initial post in the thread titled: Trouble Comes to Stone Creek.

    Within that first entry I provided a little background information as to the storyline of my Alias.

    There was; however, an important clue buried within that post that tied directly to unraveling the mystery behind the creation of my Alias and its relationship with an historical event of the Old West.

    Below is an excerpt from that post, and if interested, determine if you can uncovered the clue and it's significance.


    And so he joined the Seminary in West Virginia.

    His thoughts then drifted back to those who were awaiting him at home.

    Ann had just turned 17 when they first met in the General Store in Fairbanks, Arizona. She was looking at material and sewing supplies, whilst he was making small talk with several of the town folk. He was smitten with her from first glance, and it didn't help that she responded to his bashful gaze with the smallest of smiles, the upturned curves of both sides of her mouth gracefully forming the slightest of grins. She was an only child herself, vehemently protected by her strict father Cliff, a GOD fearing, tall slender figure of a man with leathery skin earned from his many years working in the harsh weather of the region. They lived by themselves on a hundred acre spread, now desolate and unforgiving after years of being unattended to. Her mother had passed during childbirth when Ann was only 10. The loss of her mother as well as having a baby brother hit her hard, a memory she still relives to this day.

    Cliff was a hard egg to crack, but being a devoted Christian certainly made the task of courting his daughter much easier. In time though, he came to appreciate the love shown for his daughter and the fulfilling life she would have marrying a man of God. They were wed in the small church he was pastor just on the outskirts of town, and soon were the proud parents of a baby boy named Joshua.

    A tear came to his eye just thinking of them both, when suddenly another bump in the road brought him back to the present. Longing to be back home, he cracked the whip to hasten the previous methodical trot of the horse into a much faster pace.

    More sweat fell from his brow as he removed his hat again to clear his eyes of the salty, stinging liquid. Coming out of the lower valley and approaching the top of the hill, he was nearing the final leg of his journey. Soon the small cabin would be in sight and he'd be back in the arms of his true love.

    Joy quickly turned to fear as he reached the hilltop. Off in the distance, a large plume of smoke was billowing above the tree line. My GOD, the cabin!

    The whip now cracked incessantly as the reverend commanded the horse to summon all that was in him to make haste for the cabin. What seemed like forever quickly dissolved into mere minutes as he approached the burning cabin. The heat was unbearable, but the furthest thing on his mind as he pulled back on the reins, jumping from the buggy and lunging for the front door.

    Flames we're now shooting out of every window, their tips flicking at him, enticing him, even daring him to try and enter its hellish domain. Thick smoke billowed above the rooftop encompassing the treetops.

    It was only then he heard the screams! But they were not from within the fiery inferno that the cabin had become, but off in the distance behind the small barn. His heart was racing feverishly now as he sprinted with all his might towards the back of the building stopping just short of rounding the corner.

    What he saw next made him stop in his tracks.

    The scene that unfolded before him was surreal.

    There, squatting on the ground, holding Joshua in her arms, was Ann, her hair a tangled mess, tears lining her dirt smudged face like little rivers. Her dress had been ripped open and she was making every attempt to cover herself while still keeping Joshua close.

    He spotted four surly men. Two were on horseback, a third off a short distance at the tree line and the fourth was on foot slowly approaching Ann.

    Instinctively reaching his side for his pistol, his heart sank as he realized he had not worn his gun belt into town on this trip. It was neatly stored in the top drawer of the dresser in the bedroom….in the burning cabin! His Henry was still in the buggy, too far to retrieve in time. He had failed to take it with him as saving his family from the burning cabin was his only thought…one which he now regrets. The man approaching Ann was now standing over her, grabbing her hair and yanking her head back while trying to slide his hand down the front of her body, finding it difficult with Ann clutching Joshua tightly to her chest.

    “This one is just ripe for the picking and added to my list of conquests,” he shouted to his buddies. The ensuing laughter from his comrades and the sight of another man touching his wife infuriated him.

    Spinning around, he ran into the barn to the far corner where a wooden chest lay on the dusty, hay strewn floor. Reaching for the lid he reached inside and pulled out an old military blanket and with one swift move, quickly uncovered the 10 gauge Wm. Moore & Co. coach gun an old friend had given to him as a gift. A handful of shells and off to the back window of the barn he went. He’d have no time to waste, as the breaking of the window pane would quickly alert his adversaries of his location.

    It was time for action!

    Just then there was a loud explosion……


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