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Are We There Yet?

On The Back Page With Daryl Gay

Daryl Gay | September 3, 2016

There. Almost got it. Alllllmost. Aaallllmmmoooosssstttt…….

KERWHAP!

I knew that was going to happen. So did the index finger of my left hand. The same finger that’s streaming blood and screaming bloody murder. While my toes are tapping out a cadence that would put a machine gun to shame. And the howls are impressive, too.

I gotta admit to a certain amount of talent when it comes to leaking plasma, stampeding and screeching holes in sheet rock.

All at the same time, no less.

And, while modestly blushing, inform you that I really DID have foreknowledge of what was about to occur. The gift of second sight? Uhhhh, no.

More like recollections of times past. Each occasion, in fact, that I’ve ever held a screwdriver and attempted to use it to force something latched, locked or hung up in a direction it didn’t want to take.

And all because of dove season. Because the shotgun needed cleaning. Well, I thought it needed cleaning. It COULD have needed cleaning. OK, OK. So it was spotless! So it had been pampered weekly since the final day of February, when we legally ran out of things to chase!

Bottom line: it’s an addiction. If I can’t shoot ’em, at least I can take ’em out, wipe ’em down and talk to ’em.

(Don’t bother calling my psychiatrist; he’s crazier than I am…)

So here’s where your lesson comes in: when shoving two shells into the bottom end of a scattergun, make sure they’re in all the way and you hear a “click,” or the first one will mule-kick the second one backward underneath that little silver flange-looking thing.

Got that?

If not, what you’ll be facing is getting the second hung shell un-hung from underneath that little silver flange-looking thing.

(Hope you appreciate my attempts at not tossing out a lot of technical jargon. In like situations, before you get those shells out you’ll have invented quite a few new names for that little silver flange-looking thing. Some may be technical, but others will most assuredly be impossible.)

So now you know what I was doing: basically, about to bust a gut waiting on dove season to open and fondling firearms to keep from going nuts. The pump was shinier than when it rolled off the assembly line, and I was completing the final task of easing (unfortunately!) a trio of loads into it before putting it away.

For the fortieth time.

Just didn’t push hard enough to hear the click. And now the extraction process begins.

The shells are hung so that the gun won’t pump and eject. It’s easy to unscrew the cap and ease the barrel off, and that leaves two options: fish out from the bottom or pull the plug and remove from the top.

I chose the former, and am presently paying the price. However, let us consider the latter.

There is a section in the shotgun’s manual which reads thusly: “To Install The Magazine Plug On Firearms Having Magazine Spring Retainers With A Slot In The Magazine Spring Retainer:”

And within that section is the following: “Always Wear Eye Protection.”

But if you’ve got this figured like I have, what I gotta do is UN-install, which pretty much means we got to go at this thing backward from the get-go. Lookahere. I don’t make it a habit to wander around town slapping folks’ chained pitbulls. I know trouble when I see it.

Magazine Spring Retainers With A Slot In The Magazine Spring Retainer? Eye Protection?

Nothing more than camouflaged catastrophes waiting to happen. And what’s a gashed finger, more or less, compared to sporting an eye patch for the rest of my days?

It’s not an especially difficult equation. There are variables, to be sure, but this is pretty much what’s about to go on if I begin jiggling magazine spring retainers. Slots or no slots:

I already know that there’s a spring—loaded to beat the band—underneath that retainer. I also know that there are two directions in which to twist the retainer. And that I’ll guess wrong.

Hypothetically, let’s just say I’m working with it on the porch of my shop and the magazine is being held facing east. Upon movement of the retainer and in spite of any attempts I may make to head it off, that spring and anything in front of it will exit at approximately 186,000 miles per hour.

(Which takes us back to why I’m on the porch, so as to prevent holes in the walls…)

The highly motivated conglomeration of spring, plug and assorted other stuff will likely turn left down Springdale Drive, right on U.S. 80 and eventually merge onto I-16 West. I’d be surprised if it made it much past Macon from Dublin, but you never know. It’s also possible that the mini-UFO could decide to go east on the interstate, so you folks down around Metter keep an eye out for widely scattered hail or such like.

When it comes right down to it, most likely the best decision is to use what’s left of my left hand and reach for another shotgun. That doesn’t need cleaning.

Either.

Oh, it will get a quick wipedown, but you can bet your lottery check that no shells will be shucked.

And when it comes to the disabled pump, my remaining ambulatory fingers have taken it upon themselves, without even asking, to solve that little problem… by dialing up a highly competent gunsmith!

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