Chapter 212

It was five am on Monday when I rode the bike out into the cold morning air. The TV weatherman said it was getting warmer, but you couldn't prove it by me. I still had a problem pedaling the bike because I was wearing so many layers of thermal clothing. I stopped to have some animal fat before I made the final push back to my compound. I checked the tapes as I always did as I ate. I never saw anything until the morning.

The thing I saw was a couple of deer crossing my drive. I was pretty sure I needed to mix my mash inside the trailer to let it work. I was a little concerned the the dear might try to eat the mash. With that decision made I rode home. I hoped I could get the box really warm before I showered. I hated to step from a warm shower into a cold bathroom.

My furnace in the house was propane gas as well as my cooker burners. The one in the house ran from a large tank, while I used a burner with a RV size propane tank. I had about ten different outlets where I bought the gas. That was just to keep the ABC boy honest.

That morning was all about weapons testing not mash or moonshine. I loaded the cruiser with all the weapons I owned and the two boxes of .22 mag ammunition. One box was plain hollow points ammo, and the other was the caulk and pellet bullets. I carried a couple of chickens and some old jeans to the range. I figured I could test the ammunition in either weapon, since they should react the same regardless.

I stopped for more coffee at McDonald's on the way to Dobson. I didn't get out of the car with so many weapons in it. I just sat in the car with the engine and heater running, while I drank the most of it. With less than half a cup left I headed to the gun shop and from there to their range behind the shop.

Since I had bought so many weapons from them they gave me use of the range at a reduced price. The five dollar charge included the spotter scope so I wouldn't have to walk down range every time. They did know I would be walking on the range to retrieve the special targets. So we agreed that was a good thing I was early before the afternoon crowd arrived.

First thing I did was fit one leg of my old jeans into the other giving me a double thickness of cloth. Then I tied a string around the bottom the pant legs before I pushed the raw chicken inside it. I took them down to the 25yard marker and hooked them to the target. I also pinned a white piece of cloth over the chicken to bullseye it.

Once I had the target set I fired one hollow point with the scope topped rifle into the paper target beside the chicken legs. I used the spotter scope to zero in the bolt action rifle. Once it was zeroed and ready, I put a single hollow point in the rifle chamber and very carefully fired it into a chicken.

I was the only one on the range, when I went down to assess the damage. The bullet had gone through the heavy fabric and penetrated the chicken about an inch with a massive sized hole. I thought it was pretty impressive.

Then I went back and fired a caulk and pellet round at the chicken filled pants. It didn't look all that different from 25yards. When I got to it I noticed the hole in the jeans was smaller. It didn't look as though the bullet had mushroomed as much. Then when I saw the chicken I noticed the penetration was deeper and the hole was equally impressive.

My conclusion was that the caulk round would be more damaging to a human being, unless the round hit in an unprotected fleshy area. I stomach shot in the summer would probably be more damaging with just the hollow point. In the winter any shot with a caulk and pellet round would be more likely to do the most damage.

I spent the rest of my range time firing the lever action Henry rifle and the three pistols. The Henry was pretty accurate at twenty five yards. But I couldn't hold it very steady at fifty yards with my bad hand and all. The pistols didn't appear to be any different as far as accuracy was concerned. Except the Derringer which was pure trash as far as accuracy was concerned. It was okay at ten feet but at even ten yards it was all over the target but still on the target. At twenty yards it was just as likely to miss the whole target as to hit it.

I returned the spotter scope before I left for home. When I got to the box house I took the time to clean the guns before I mixed the next batch of mash. I bought two 100' cord which I planned to run a ceramic electric heater. I would use it while the mash was working off. I planned to use it to run a fan which blew the smell of the mash out of the still house and high into the air through a 6" PVC sewer pipe. So that afternoon, I dragged the electrical cord from the box house up to the still house. I was less than the full 200' away.

So with the heater running just a bit to keep the small area warm enough to give the mash a chance to work, I began to mix it. When I was finished I covered it and locked the house up tight. I was bored already, so I drove into town to report the results of my research to the Brit.

The Brit did not believe that the .22 mag was anything but a toy. He claimed the smallest weapon of any value in a firefight was the 9mm. So he really had no interest in my experiment.