The Mama Mia Mishap

[Alpo]

In the thread about only one chambering, someone says 44 magnum good for moose to mouse, and someone else replies that it don't leave much of a mouse.

 

And that reminded me of this story. Skeeter Skelton. I hope y'all enjoy it.

 

 

The Mama Mia Mishap
Shooting Times Magazine
June 1980
 
 
General Delivery
Horsethief, NM
(Sunday Night)
Alex Bartimo, Editor
Shooting Times
Box 1790
Peoria IL 61656
 
Dear Bart:
 
This isn’t actually from Horsethief. I’m camped in the big timber about halfway up the side of San Miguel mountain. Saint Mike, we call it. You may not be able to read my poor handwriting because of the the watermarks on the paper. I know I should be weeping about missing the deadline on this month’s gun review, but I’m sorry to say these splotches weren’t made by tears.Rain and snow did that.

I’m trapped here, and it’s my own fault. Down at the house in Horsethief, I contracted cabin fever. No pals had visited in more than a month. I don’t take a newspaper (you can get bad news anywhere). I’d read every book on the place at least twice, and Horsethief has no library or newsstand. We get one television station from Albuquerque via a repeater in the mountains, and it runs Bozo the Clown, As The World Flips, intriguing situation comedies about the family problems of New York taxi drivers, and wilderness stories about mountain men who feed themselves and their pet mountain lions with mushrooms and
rosehips gathered in the dew.

 

My set is still like new-it never gets turned on.

 

The fact of the matter is, I was bored stiff when I got this foreign .380 you wanted and decided to make it my excuse to come up to this big stretch of forest belonging to a friend of mine. I was going to stay a couple of days, shoot, and drowse in the sunshine. Didn’t work out that way.

I like to carry extras, so I packed my old pickup with sleeping bag and big tarp, groceries for two or three days - including canned corned beef hash,chili con carne, coffee, bacon, eggs, and a sack of fresh biscuits. And one jug of Henry McKenna redeye to ward off the weeps around the evening fire. Luckily, I also brought a Coleman camp stove and lantern because I planned on cooking on an open fire.

I stowed the camera equipment, figuring on getting pictures of .380 on tree stump and (using a selftimer) heroic poses of my classic profile looking off
into the horizon.

 

The trip up was nice. Plenty of sunshine. Few melting snow-banks left from winter.

 

Jeep road a little tough on pickup, but made it to campsite okay. Strung lariat rope between two trees and wired end of tarp to it. Made lean-to. Took rocks from clear, cold stream and built fireplace. Gathered enough dead wood to last two days. Unrolled sleeping bag, laid holstered Ruger .44 beside it. Was home.

 

Built fire, had hash and biscuits, raunchy coffee. Took tot of McKenna while looking at stars. Wondered what city folks were doing. Turned in early.

Up before first light. Drizzling rain. Get GI poncho from truck’s toolbox.Trouble getting fire going with wet wood. Pour on Coleman fuel. Burn fingers…..Biscuits, bacon and coffee.

 

Sitting in lean-to, I examine new .380. Most unusual. Called the Mama Mia. Made in Costa Rica by Hijos de Basura, S.A. and imported by Larson E. Rippoff Inc. Homossa Springs, Florida. Price: $469.98. About five inches long. Ten-shot staggered magazine extends one-half inch below butt. Double action with pull of approximately 20 pounds; single-action pull about 25 pounds.Shiny plastic grips. Shiny plastic trigger guard (combat style). Shiny plastic sight rib and sights. Rear sight adjustable for windage. One click equals 12
inches at 25 yards.

 

Extra 48-shot magazine is curved. Might not do much for feeding but looks jazzy, making pistol five inches long and 1 ¼ feet deep. Optional flashhider and grenade launcher supplied with my review gun. Extras cost only $189.98.

Many cast parts in pistol. Nothing wrong with well-cast parts, but these of somewhat lesser quality than lead soldiers
I made as a boy.

 

Can’t shoot, must wait out rain. Wait all day. Except for small supply under tarp, wood is soaked. Crank up Coleman stove. Chili and biscuits.Wish had brought tortillas and refried beans. Hit sack early. Sleeping bag feels damp.

 

Third day now. Raining harder. Decide to go home. Dismantle camp, pack truck. Trouble starting engine. Drive 10 feet from camp on muddy trail, skid, nose into boulder. Rear wheels spin. No four-wheel drive. No tire chains. Stuck. Rebuild camp.

 

All wood wet. Hunker around Coleman stove.Things have to get better. Feast on bacon, eggs, soggy biscuits. Long pull at Henry McKenna, then dream in wet sleeping bag. Fourth day. Bear sign around truck. Glad I hadn’t woke up. Might have made mistake and shot bearwith .380. Wish I was in Horsethief, watching taxi driver program. Still no interest in mountain man
and lion.

 

Go to stream for coffee water and wash. Bank full, running fast, water chocolate brown. Wash in muddy water and get gallon jug of emergency water from truck. Use sparingly. Going nuts.

 

Sun peeps through in afternoon. Rain stops, but pickup still stuck. Grab opportunity to shoot the Mama Mia. Staple dry targets from toolbox to big conifer pine. Have W.W., R-P, and Federal factory loads. Load 10 round magazine. Brace against tree now. Squeeze off first round at target.

 

Low/left in 7 ring. Empty case smokestacks. Feed next round into chamber manually. Not on paper. Now shooting low/right 6s. Go through 20 shots, all hand operated. Group is high, right, low, left, 16 inches (diameter of tree).

Forty-eight-round magazine loaded and put in place. Will not feed first round. Note for first time that loading ramp is very steep - about 45 degree - and narrow. Get screwdriver kit from toolbox and dismantle pistol.

 

Many tool marks inside shiny exterior. Horseshoe rasp, maybe. Springs all piano wire type. Apparently from very small piano. After some difficulty,reassemble and try 48-round magazine again. No dice. Big magazine apparently meant to be handy place to carry ammunition.

 

Shoot single shot for a while. Groups don’t improve. Curious square holes cut by bullets. Perhaps due to quadrangular rifling in bore. Try all brands of ammunition. Results the same.

 

See squirrel munching acorn in nearby tree. Very fat. Squirrel out ofseason, but I get an evil idea. Rations low. Squirrel rolled in biscuit crumbs and fried in bacon drippings would be great
morale builder.Sight seven inches high and left on squirrel with Mama Mia. And miss. Squirrel munches acorn. Hold upper right quadrant of rodent. Does not disturb dining squirrel. Working slide by hand, fire five quick shots.Squirrel looks on with interest. Think of going for .44 Magnum, but don’t believe squirrel tail and ears would make good supper.

 

Fifth day. Grub low. Biscuits turning green. Hunting squirrels, porcupines,and even bears with .44 Magnum. Mighty hunter in magazine articles; dripping dud in wet forest.

 

Sixth day. Definitely in deep trouble. Old bones won’t stand up to 40-mile walkout. Wife home from Flower Arrangers Convention in Santa Fe by now. Will find me gone and cats unfed. Will be mildly irritated. Probably throw things. But she will call friends in State Police and Forest Service. They will check out jails, hospitals, then Kelly Canyon, Desert Saloon, El Paso.Then they will settle down to look for me. Shouldn’t be longer than one more day….Down to dregs of coffee by seventh morning. Broken clouds. Mama Mia WD-fortied and put away. Reading labels on empty
hash cans. Stomach growling.

 

Suddenly hear chopper working way up canyon. Use Coleman fuel. Make smoky fire. Helicopter hovers, lands in mud near pickup. Pilot is Dick Shaw, a State Police friend.

Embarrassing situation. Shaw disgusted. Dismounts from machine, walks toward pot of weak coffee, gets dirty cup, and drinks. Sees I’m cold, wet. Gives
me a cigarette.

 

“How’d you get yourself in this fix, Skeeter?”

Mutter something about big job I had to do - caught by weather. Shaw not at all sympathetic. Says he will radio for four-wheeler with chains and winch to come get me. Will probably
cost at least $100. I say okay.

 

Shaw blasts off. I start breaking camp again. Must go home and face music.Will mail this letter tomorrow. Might be just as well if this
was one gun review that didn’t get printed.

 

Su amigo,
Skeeter

[Cold Lake Kid, SASS # 51474]

We've had a couple of forced over stays like that!

One in similar weather with a good tent but after a couple of days, the fart sack is damp!

The other happened in dead winter, while snowmobiling. At least that time we were in a winterized cottage, with a wood stove and propane lights!

Oh yeah, and a couple of bottles of Irish.

[Marshal Mo Hare, SASS #45984]

2 hours ago, Cold Lake Kid, SASS # 51474 said:

We've had a couple of forced over stays like that!

One in similar weather with a good tent but after a couple of days, the fart sack is damp!

The other happened in dead winter, while snowmobiling. At least that time we were in a winterized cottage, with a wood stove and propane lights!

Oh yeah, and a couple of bottles of Irish.

No food?

[Charlie Harley, #14153]

Skeeter Skelton, Bill Jordan, and Elmer Keith were my favorites as a kid in the 70s, along with Peter Capstick when my mood swung to an African adventure.  Those guys could sure fire my imagination and bring a smile to my face.

 

I know the business model of gun magazines has changed and these guys couldn’t even write their good stuff, were they still alive.  So goes life.

 

Thank you for a fun trip down Memory Lane, Alpo.

[Marshal Mo Hare, SASS #45984]

I thought this was about….

 

 

[Cold Lake Kid, SASS # 51474]

20 hours ago, Marshal Mo Hare, SASS #45984 said:

No food?

 

We were tough* Canadians and lived off the land! LOL 

Drilled holes, by hand, through 8 feet of ice to catch our suppers of fish!

Peeled bark from trees to make a kind of soup.

Boiled cedar and pine leaves to make tea.

Trust me. I'm a Liberal, I wouldn't lie!

 

* Canadian for stupid!

[Marshal Mo Hare, SASS #45984]

4 hours ago, Cold Lake Kid, SASS # 51474 said:

 

We were tough* Canadians and lived off the land! LOL 

Drilled holes, by hand, through 8 feet of ice to catch our suppers of fish!

Peeled bark from trees to make a kind of soup.

Boiled cedar and pine leaves to make tea.

Trust me. I'm a Liberal, I wouldn't lie!

 

* Canadian for stupid!

You forgot to mention that you brought down a moose with your Swiss Army knife.  Or was it a bear?

 

 

[Wallaby Jack, SASS #44062]

       ........ he brought down a moose with a bear ???  

[Marshal Mo Hare, SASS #45984]

12 minutes ago, Wallaby Jack, SASS #44062 said:

       ........ he brought down a moose with a bear ???  

We’ll swing it by the tail…

[Wallaby Jack, SASS #44062]

14 minutes ago, Marshal Mo Hare, SASS #45984 said:

We’ll swing it by the tail…

 

   ..... the moose ..... or the bear ??? 

[Marshal Mo Hare, SASS #45984]

18 minutes ago, Wallaby Jack, SASS #44062 said:

 

   ..... the moose ..... or the bear ??? 

Either, as he said Canadians are tough.

[Cold Lake Kid, SASS # 51474]

7 hours ago, Marshal Mo Hare, SASS #45984 said:

You forgot to mention that you brought down a moose with your Swiss Army knife.  Or was it a bear?

 

 

 

Nope, .30-06 or a .338WM

I left the hand to hand stuff to younger and ........... OK, we'll say tough*

 

* Canadian for STUPID

[Sedalia Dave]

On 9/24/2023 at 3:20 AM, Marshal Mo Hare, SASS #45984 said:

Either, as he said Canadians are tough.

 

No; he said he would let the Canadians that were tough* handle it.

 

 

* Canadian for STUPID

 

[Dantankerous]

Skeeter was the best.

[Sedalia Dave]

Not known much outside of Missouri, but if you ever get the chance, anything written by Joel M Vance is well worth reading.

[Forty Rod SASS 3935]

Missourians can read and write?

[Eyesa Horg]

On 9/22/2023 at 10:09 PM, Alpo said:

In the thread about only one chambering, someone says 44 magnum good for moose to mouse, and someone else replies that it don't leave much of a mouse.

 

And that reminded me of this story. Skeeter Skelton. I hope y'all enjoy it.

 

 

The Mama Mia Mishap
Shooting Times Magazine
June 1980
 
 
General Delivery
Horsethief, NM
(Sunday Night)
Alex Bartimo, Editor
Shooting Times
Box 1790
Peoria IL 61656
 
Dear Bart:
 
This isn’t actually from Horsethief. I’m camped in the big timber about halfway up the side of San Miguel mountain. Saint Mike, we call it. You may not be able to read my poor handwriting because of the the watermarks on the paper. I know I should be weeping about missing the deadline on this month’s gun review, but I’m sorry to say these splotches weren’t made by tears.Rain and snow did that.

I’m trapped here, and it’s my own fault. Down at the house in Horsethief, I contracted cabin fever. No pals had visited in more than a month. I don’t take a newspaper (you can get bad news anywhere). I’d read every book on the place at least twice, and Horsethief has no library or newsstand. We get one television station from Albuquerque via a repeater in the mountains, and it runs Bozo the Clown, As The World Flips, intriguing situation comedies about the family problems of New York taxi drivers, and wilderness stories about mountain men who feed themselves and their pet mountain lions with mushrooms and
rosehips gathered in the dew.

 

My set is still like new-it never gets turned on.

 

The fact of the matter is, I was bored stiff when I got this foreign .380 you wanted and decided to make it my excuse to come up to this big stretch of forest belonging to a friend of mine. I was going to stay a couple of days, shoot, and drowse in the sunshine. Didn’t work out that way.

I like to carry extras, so I packed my old pickup with sleeping bag and big tarp, groceries for two or three days - including canned corned beef hash,chili con carne, coffee, bacon, eggs, and a sack of fresh biscuits. And one jug of Henry McKenna redeye to ward off the weeps around the evening fire. Luckily, I also brought a Coleman camp stove and lantern because I planned on cooking on an open fire.

I stowed the camera equipment, figuring on getting pictures of .380 on tree stump and (using a selftimer) heroic poses of my classic profile looking off
into the horizon.

 

The trip up was nice. Plenty of sunshine. Few melting snow-banks left from winter.

 

Jeep road a little tough on pickup, but made it to campsite okay. Strung lariat rope between two trees and wired end of tarp to it. Made lean-to. Took rocks from clear, cold stream and built fireplace. Gathered enough dead wood to last two days. Unrolled sleeping bag, laid holstered Ruger .44 beside it. Was home.

 

Built fire, had hash and biscuits, raunchy coffee. Took tot of McKenna while looking at stars. Wondered what city folks were doing. Turned in early.

Up before first light. Drizzling rain. Get GI poncho from truck’s toolbox.Trouble getting fire going with wet wood. Pour on Coleman fuel. Burn fingers…..Biscuits, bacon and coffee.

 

Sitting in lean-to, I examine new .380. Most unusual. Called the Mama Mia. Made in Costa Rica by Hijos de Basura, S.A. and imported by Larson E. Rippoff Inc. Homossa Springs, Florida. Price: $469.98. About five inches long. Ten-shot staggered magazine extends one-half inch below butt. Double action with pull of approximately 20 pounds; single-action pull about 25 pounds.Shiny plastic grips. Shiny plastic trigger guard (combat style). Shiny plastic sight rib and sights. Rear sight adjustable for windage. One click equals 12
inches at 25 yards.

 

Extra 48-shot magazine is curved. Might not do much for feeding but looks jazzy, making pistol five inches long and 1 ¼ feet deep. Optional flashhider and grenade launcher supplied with my review gun. Extras cost only $189.98.

Many cast parts in pistol. Nothing wrong with well-cast parts, but these of somewhat lesser quality than lead soldiers
I made as a boy.

 

Can’t shoot, must wait out rain. Wait all day. Except for small supply under tarp, wood is soaked. Crank up Coleman stove. Chili and biscuits.Wish had brought tortillas and refried beans. Hit sack early. Sleeping bag feels damp.

 

Third day now. Raining harder. Decide to go home. Dismantle camp, pack truck. Trouble starting engine. Drive 10 feet from camp on muddy trail, skid, nose into boulder. Rear wheels spin. No four-wheel drive. No tire chains. Stuck. Rebuild camp.

 

All wood wet. Hunker around Coleman stove.Things have to get better. Feast on bacon, eggs, soggy biscuits. Long pull at Henry McKenna, then dream in wet sleeping bag. Fourth day. Bear sign around truck. Glad I hadn’t woke up. Might have made mistake and shot bearwith .380. Wish I was in Horsethief, watching taxi driver program. Still no interest in mountain man
and lion.

 

Go to stream for coffee water and wash. Bank full, running fast, water chocolate brown. Wash in muddy water and get gallon jug of emergency water from truck. Use sparingly. Going nuts.

 

Sun peeps through in afternoon. Rain stops, but pickup still stuck. Grab opportunity to shoot the Mama Mia. Staple dry targets from toolbox to big conifer pine. Have W.W., R-P, and Federal factory loads. Load 10 round magazine. Brace against tree now. Squeeze off first round at target.

 

Low/left in 7 ring. Empty case smokestacks. Feed next round into chamber manually. Not on paper. Now shooting low/right 6s. Go through 20 shots, all hand operated. Group is high, right, low, left, 16 inches (diameter of tree).

Forty-eight-round magazine loaded and put in place. Will not feed first round. Note for first time that loading ramp is very steep - about 45 degree - and narrow. Get screwdriver kit from toolbox and dismantle pistol.

 

Many tool marks inside shiny exterior. Horseshoe rasp, maybe. Springs all piano wire type. Apparently from very small piano. After some difficulty,reassemble and try 48-round magazine again. No dice. Big magazine apparently meant to be handy place to carry ammunition.

 

Shoot single shot for a while. Groups don’t improve. Curious square holes cut by bullets. Perhaps due to quadrangular rifling in bore. Try all brands of ammunition. Results the same.

 

See squirrel munching acorn in nearby tree. Very fat. Squirrel out ofseason, but I get an evil idea. Rations low. Squirrel rolled in biscuit crumbs and fried in bacon drippings would be great
morale builder.Sight seven inches high and left on squirrel with Mama Mia. And miss. Squirrel munches acorn. Hold upper right quadrant of rodent. Does not disturb dining squirrel. Working slide by hand, fire five quick shots.Squirrel looks on with interest. Think of going for .44 Magnum, but don’t believe squirrel tail and ears would make good supper.

 

Fifth day. Grub low. Biscuits turning green. Hunting squirrels, porcupines,and even bears with .44 Magnum. Mighty hunter in magazine articles; dripping dud in wet forest.

 

Sixth day. Definitely in deep trouble. Old bones won’t stand up to 40-mile walkout. Wife home from Flower Arrangers Convention in Santa Fe by now. Will find me gone and cats unfed. Will be mildly irritated. Probably throw things. But she will call friends in State Police and Forest Service. They will check out jails, hospitals, then Kelly Canyon, Desert Saloon, El Paso.Then they will settle down to look for me. Shouldn’t be longer than one more day….Down to dregs of coffee by seventh morning. Broken clouds. Mama Mia WD-fortied and put away. Reading labels on empty
hash cans. Stomach growling.

 

Suddenly hear chopper working way up canyon. Use Coleman fuel. Make smoky fire. Helicopter hovers, lands in mud near pickup. Pilot is Dick Shaw, a State Police friend.

Embarrassing situation. Shaw disgusted. Dismounts from machine, walks toward pot of weak coffee, gets dirty cup, and drinks. Sees I’m cold, wet. Gives
me a cigarette.

 

“How’d you get yourself in this fix, Skeeter?”

Mutter something about big job I had to do - caught by weather. Shaw not at all sympathetic. Says he will radio for four-wheeler with chains and winch to come get me. Will probably
cost at least $100. I say okay.

 

Shaw blasts off. I start breaking camp again. Must go home and face music.Will mail this letter tomorrow. Might be just as well if this
was one gun review that didn’t get printed.

 

Su amigo,
Skeeter

That was a fun read Alpo, thanks.