Saturday, August 26, 2017

Reply - Berdan conversion and steel cased ammo

An astute reader has provided his viewpoint on this process and has some very convincing arguments. So I thought I would share his email with you.


From: Tanner
Hey there, I came across your site earlier, particularly the page with the berdan to boxer conversion and the video about steel cases ammo. I tried to leave a comment but it was far to long to post but I wanted you to have the info so I'll just email you. I don't want to be "that guy" that has something to say and I don't want to come off as a know-it-all douche but due to the nature of your site I wanted to share with you anyway.  Sorry about the rant, it's a slow day at work.

There are many more differences between brass and steel than the video talks about. Hardness is one factor but the factor that plays possibly the biggest role is the coefficient of friction. Brass is a relatively slippery metal, due to its content of zinc, which means under pressure it will still slide smoothly against another surface. Steel on the other hand has a lower friction coefficient, that's not to say it will drag or mar another surface but it just means it won't move as easily under a load as brass does.
 
Brass, especially the work hardened brass of the walls and shoulder of a cartridge, has a certain level of spring-back. When the brass is bent or formed it will move back to its original position, not much maybe a couple thousandths of an inch, but when the cartridge is fired the case expands and is pressed against the walls of the chamber, the brass then will spring back and become a couple thousandths smaller than the walls of the chamber, thus providing easy extraction. Steel, especially soft annealed steel, will have a bit less spring back and will hold a bit firmer to the chamber walls than brass does.
 
To get around these potential issues with steel cases many developers and manufacturers will do things like coat the steel cases in shellac or other types of lacquer to lower the friction coefficient of the outside surface of the cartridge. Coatings do help with friction and also help protect the case from oxidizing but brass doesn't seem to have that problem... Hmm.
 
Most ammunition that uses steel cases were developed with all this in mind. Ever notice how the 7.62x39and x54 have such an extreme case taper? It's so the cases can be extracted much easier, even when sub standard material is forced against the wall of the chamber.
 
Basically what I want to say is that steel cases are fine to use IF the cartridge was designed for it. Using steel cases in something like 223 rem may not be a good idea, now it's not going to ruin your gun or blow up in your face but you may end up with a case stuck in the chamber or experience some short cycling due to a very hard extraction. Steel pistol cases aren't the best idea either, take the 45 ACP, it has a straight wall which will bite hard to the chamber on extraction.
 
Hardness is only one factor in everything, there are plenty more factors than I even brought up. I truly believe steel cases exist for two reasons: #1 availability of steel, it's the most abundantly recycled metal on earth. #2 cost of steel vs brass, scrap brass is about $1.60-$1.70/lb while steel is what $0.10-$0.20/lb? you can make 8-10 cases of steel for the cost of a single brass case.
 
Steel does have its strong point, like cost and strength. Steel cases will resist getting dented and crushed when run through semi or even full automatic weapons. But it has weak points, some very weak point such as corrosion. What happens when you need  your SHTF stash of steel cased 7.62x39 that you tucked away in a dank basement only to open the can and find a mess of red rust? Or maybe you're in a fight for you life and liberty, dumping hundreds of rounds through your AK-47 at the advancing enemy then suddenly you have an FTE but it's not that simple... The lacquered coating on the case melted when the round entered a very hot chamber and the case became essentially glued to the chamber walls. You now have an advancing enemy closing in on you and you have to find a cleaning rod and a hammer to remove a stuck case... I don't think that's gonna happen.
 
Berdan to Boxer conversions can be done safely and is a great alternative solution to being reliant on unsteady sources for ammunition and supplies. The conversion can be done to steel cases as well and an extra step or two will really help in the long run. First off, only use steel cases with absolutely NO sign of rust and be sure to check both inside and out. Secondly, invest the $15 into a 'Lee universal neck expanding die' it will put a slight flare on the mouth of the case and allow the bullet to slide into the neck much easier. This significantly prevents the mouth of the case from digging into the sides of the bullet and scraping off material in both cast lead and copper jacketed bullets (the flare can be removed after the bullet is seated by using the same bullet seater die to make a slight crimp). Lastly go to any hardware store or most automotive part stores and get a can of "silicone spray' lubricant, it's an aerosol can of a very thin silicone based lubricant that dries to a dry film. This leaves a thin, clear coat over the entire round preventing corrosion and also aiding extraction (plus it won't turn to glue...). to use it you just need your loaded ammo and an old towel or t-shirt, lay a couple handfuls of ammo on the towel in a single layer (layed out, not stacked on top of each other)and spray an even amount of silicone spray over the ammo. Let it sit for a few seconds then fold the towel up over the ammo and roll it all around, this helps spread the silicone evenly across all the ammo and also removes excessive amounts. Do this with fully loaded ammo only, if done with primed cases it may contaminate the primer and cause issues with the case being able to hold the bullet strongly enough. Not a whole lot of extra work in all, and you'll have clean, accurate, and functioning ammunition that's made from free range pickup steel cases. If you're feeling particularly ambitious I have seen people powder coat cases, this would also help with the friction and corrosion issues and with a harbor freight coupon for the powder coating system and a thrift store counter top convection oven you'd be in for less than $100 (assuming you have a small air compressor available).
 
With all that said, a simple google search for once fired 7.62x39 will net at least a couple dozen sites with brass, boxer 7.62x39. The cheapest I saw was $19/100 plus shipping, seems the norm is about $30/100. Hey, I don't like buying cases that I can pick up for free either but it's a good way to pad the stash with worry-free handloads. Hell, the next time you go to the range (and from now on) pick up anything that's brass, even if it's a caliber you don't own a gun for. Take it home, sort it, and keep collecting until you have an amount worth selling and post it on craigslist or another local swappin' and sellin' type site. Use that cash to buy some good stuff to save for a special occasion while you use the steel stuff for practice and for a gradual increase in your arsenal.
 
Final thoughts,
-Steel cases are plentiful
-Won't hurt your gun but there are better materials out there
-Better materials readily available but steel works
-Berdan conversions are good to know how to do
-If you're gonna do it, do it right
-Be smart, be safe, and be resourceful.
-And for God's sake don't mindlessly believe everything you see or read on the internet, the guy in the video refers to steel cases as steel brass and brass cases as "brass.. uh, brass." Consider the source, if it's questionable then question it.
So, if you can counter his argument respectfully, please do. We are all learning everyday of our life thru the sharing of ideas and viewpoints.
 Thank you Tanner for sharing yours.

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

VT32 - Grandpa Tom's Cabin

Thick evergreens formed a vast sea of trees, stretching as far as the eye could see. Ferns and other types of brush grew between the trees, whose outstretched branches shaded the old dirt road. The trees were encased in ivy which draped from their limbs and wrapped around the trunk like a hand around a throat, spiraling up to the treetops.  Bright sunlight penetrated the canopy of the forest, it’s rays dancing across the floor of the wilderness. Debris in the form of sticks, small logs, and fallen branches were all over the road. The dirt road, once having been meant to be accessed by vehicles, was now blocked from use by wheeled conveyance via the brush which had taken over it. At the end of the road was a small log cabin. An advancing army of Ivy crept towards the cabin, creating a green cloak on the ground which surrounded the structure. Two windows were on either side of the wooden door. These windows had clearly been boarded over to protect the glass.

The silhouette of a man knelt behind the brush, situated at a distance of forty feet from the cabin. His hands clutched the wooden shaft of a spear; leaning against the tree beside him was a worn ALICE pack and a crossbow. His eyes swept and scrutinized the open space surrounding the cabin as his hands gripped the spear tightly. With great caution, he began to survey the cabin, remaining wary of any threats which may be lurking around the corner. There was no real safe place in this area, but this cabin could be secured for a stay overnight. It would at least provide overhead cover from anything that might be lurking in the canopy of the trees.

The man was around an average height, his arms bulging with muscle, which he had gained from everyday life in his Trybe. He was a Caucasian man with tanned skin, his sun tan an effect of the area in which he had originally spent the last sixteen years. This area was located on the eastern slopes of the Cascade Mountain range in Washington State. He wore clothing composed mostly of animal skins, although his feet were covered by boots that he had raided from a nearby sporting goods store. Many of the structures in this town had not been previously looted, allowing him to outfit himself. The boots had made a nice replacement for his previous shoes, which had been a pair of dilapidated moccasins. A hat which had been made of the furs of raccoons covered his head, complete with the tail protruding from the back. A 'five o' clock' shadow covered his face. This he had kept under control with a sharpened blade, knowing that when he didn't it he would find himself with a full-blown beard taking control of his face. His blue eyes were framed with black-rimmed eyeglasses. Before the collapse, his father had stored up pairs of reading glasses for this man, knowing that his son had need of these things and would continue to need them in the event of a collapse. Fortunately these were sufficient to correct his vision, otherwise he would be in serious trouble.

He was familiar with this location because this cabin belonged to his grandfather, a veteran of the second world war, who was somewhat of a preparedness minded individual and a firearms enthusiast. His grandfather, named Thomas Morris,  had passed away sometime before the collapse of society. The property had become family-owned as had the materials which were stored therein, and had remained largely undisturbed by family members for some time. It had only been visited during infrequent hunting trips after he had died. The risks of attempting to acquire the gear after the collapse were astronomically high, the location being the primary reason for this problem. The cabin was situated right smack on the edge of a zone of territory known as the ‘Shunned Area’.

The ‘Shunned Area’ was a region of farmlands, wilderness, ruined cities and towns which ran from the coast to the Cascade Mountain range, and then from British Columbia to Northern California. The I-5 Corridor, which had been a conduit for the plague, ran nearly through the center of this zone. One did not enter the ‘Shunned Area’ expecting to come out alive. Rumors of this zone had circulated through the various Trybes. These reports were fearsome stories of giant insects, arachnids, and other horrors. This was not a place that you wanted to enter. 

His hopes soared when he had located the old structure. He suspected Grandpa had left his firearms inside the cabin, locked away in the basement. The weapons and gear present therein would level the playing field for him, so to speak. His eyes continued to thoroughly sweep and scrutinize everything from the cabin to as far up into the canopy of the forest that he could see, while he simultaneously listened to his surroundings. The lack of threats spurred him to his feet, and he slowly began his approach on the building.

The spear which he held in his hands was an homemade weapon, and was something which he had made using skills learned from his Trybe. The spearhead had been forged from an abandoned automobile spring. His movements were swift and silent, stealth being a skill that he was known for. Upon arrival at the Cabin he found it unlocked and he opened the door which noisily creaked as it swung on its hinges. Beams of light flooded the darkened room, driving back the blackness. Slowly he stepped into the room, his boots thumping against the wooden floor.

His eyes swept the interior of the building for danger. The main room of the cabin contained an old wooden rocking chair, a woodstove and the kitchen. There was a bunk bed visible in the bedroom through an open door at the far end of the cabin. Directly in front of the woodstove, was a door built into the floor which if he recalled correctly, led down into the basement. Once he had determined that there were no threats present either in the cabin or the immediate surroundings, he retrieved his pack and crossbow and re-entered the building.

As his eyes explored the room, he spotted a kerosene lantern hanging from a hook by the door. "Thank you, Grandpa!" he thought, leaning his spear against the wall. His hands wrapped around the bail of the lantern as he removed it from its hook and checked for fuel before withdrawing a flint and steel from his pocket. He set it on a table before striking a light to the wick, welcoming the friendly glow that sprang forth. The smell of Kerosene filled the air as the lantern lit the room. From his pack He retrieved a short-sword, which he had found in a home while scavenging for supplies in a small town. The town had been one of his first stops since the sporting goods store. It was some five days journey from his present location. He then attached the sheath of the sword to his belt.  

He positioned the lantern to the side of the door, one hand gripping his blade and drawing it free from its sheath. With his free hand he grasped the metallic ring of the door set into the floor. The hinges screeched their protest as he lifted the door open while stepping out of its path. A rush of stale air greeted him as he retrieved his lantern and made his descent into the abyss below.

The wooden stairs led from the main room down into the basement. They creaked their complaints with each step, his boots thumping against the hardwood boards. The walls and floor of the basement were concrete, unlike the wooden structure directly above it. As he descended he noticed a light switch which he wished worked. The basement was a rectangular-shaped room of unknown dimensions. There were a series of steel firearms lockers directly in front of him, and shelves which had once contained different calibers of ammunition beside them. A series of glass jars were positioned on various shelves, each of them covered with a layer of dust so that the contents were unrecognizable.  

He could hardly contain his disappointment when he spotted only a couple of tins on the shelf. Although happy that at least something was there, the shelf was far too empty for him to celebrate. He took a moment to check the room for threats, sheathing his blade when he had determined none were present. On the shelf next to the tins was a small key and a piece of notebook paper. He approached the shelf, surveying its contents. One of the tins was clearly labeled ‘7.62’, indicating the caliber of ammunition which it contained. ‘440’ was written directly beneath the caliber indicating quantity of ammunition within. The fact that the tin was still sealed allowed him to easily determine that it was still full of ammunition. The remaining tin contained stripper clips, a cleaning kit, and a bayonet for a Mosin-Nagant.

He retrieved the lined-paper and the key, pocketing the key for a moment while examining the paper. It was a note, which was addressed to him. It read, “Wayne, it’s Dad and Zach. We took the Garand and the SKS and all the ammo we could carry, and we’re heading south. Stay strong, and don’t stick around in the shunned area long. We left you the Mosin-Nagant and all the ammo Grandpa had for it. Your sister has been through here already, as the AK-47 and its accessories are missing, and we found her old pack. We waited here for you the full two weeks, and we've fortified the cabin and went looking for your sister during that time. We went looking for your sister at the next rally point, but it is compromised. If she is alive, she would not have stayed there for very long. If you can help it, stay away from the I-5 corridor, there are big spiders there. Zach says he saw one as big as a house. We think the spiders might be all over the place, but it looks like there are a lot of them around that area especially. They're in the forest too, but smaller than the ones near the rally point. We have seen some that are near German Shepherd sized. We are going straight to Morton, meet us there. Love Dad and Zach.”

Giant arachnids were not a pleasant thought. Stories about them inhabiting this area had circulated through the Trybes. In view of this fact, it was possible that some of them might have been migrating out of the I-5 corridor into the rest of the ‘Shunned Area’, moving all the way through to the outskirts where they had been encountered by Trybes. This was the most logical explanation his mind could conjure, and it was based on the assumption that the I-5 corridor was their primary place of residence. None of his assumptions about where they primarily resided were based in facts, it was only a conclusion drawn from his family’s scouting report and rumors.  

His mind pondered over how accurate their report was. Could they reasonably cover the entire I-5 corridor without being caught and eaten by anything? The most likely scenario was that they surveyed the area, spotted a high population of giant arachnids, and made their report based on that. Regardless it was enough of a warning to make him think twice about going through there if he could help it. Yet what routes were there around it? Even if he did avoid it, he knew some of them had to be around. While on the trail several hours back he had heard movement far behind him...and it had to have been something big. It was however out of visual range, so he could not verify that. From this he had gained the distinct feeling that something was stalking him.

He grimaced at the words of the letter which read, "the rally point is compromised." Was his sister still alive? If the rally point was compromised, this presented the real possibility that she was not. This thought was enough to discourage him since family was everything to him. With the destruction of his Trybe, the prospect of the loss of family members was especially painful. There was a slight sliver of hope since she had the AK-47, the caliber of which should have been a formidable match for a giant spider unless it was otherwise house-sized. She would still have to be cautious of her expenditure of ammunition as she could only carry a limited amount. On the off chances that she might retreat to the cabin from the compromised rally point, he decided to remain for the full waiting period. 

Wayne folded the note and placed it in his pants pocket, stuffing it deep down inside. He set the lantern where it would provide sufficient light, and then pulled out the key and unlocked the firearms locker, opening the door. The rack inside held one firearm, a  Russian Mosin-Nagant model 91/30 with an olive-drab shoulder sling. The stock was aging and somewhat beaten, but it was still serviceable and the rifle would most definitely help level the playing field with any of the rumored monstrosities in the ‘Shunned Area.’

He pulled the rifle free from the rack, resting the butt-end of the weapon against his thigh while he angled the barrel toward the ceiling. Working the bolt of the rifle, he checked the chamber thoroughly and once he had determined that it was empty and safe he slung the rifle over his shoulder. He then retrieved the two tins and the lantern and brought them back upstairs. Once he had reached the main floor of the cabin, he leaned the rifle against the wall with his spear. 

His first priority was to secure the building. The windows had already been boarded over by his family members when they had occupied the structure during their weeks-long stay here. He closed and locked the door, and secured the upper and lower crossbars which were attached to the doorframe. 

When he had finished, Wayne made a prompt check of the bedding on the lower bunk to make sure it wasn’t infested with bugs. He then unrolled his bedroll which had been attached to his pack out onto the bed. He retrieved his rifle and positioned it near his sleeping arrangements, making sure he had quick and easy access to the weapon. Once these tasks were completed he seated himself on the bed. With relative security, Wayne retrieved food and water from his bag and began to eat.

Dinner was blackberries, wild greens, and the last of his venison. He had killed a small deer with his crossbow not too long ago, skinning it and retrieving the meat it’s body provided. This had lasted him quite a few meals, but now he was out. He carried water in what had been known as a hydro flask before the collapse of society. As he ate and drank, his mind mulled over everything that had happened up to this point.

Wayne had been a part of a small Trybe in the east, well beyond the ‘Shunned Area’. They had formed after the collapse, with the goal of helping each other stay alive. Several Trybe members were former U.S. Army Green Berets, and they had taught everyone who was able to participate in their training how to fight and survive in the wild. They had trained Trybe members how to build booby traps for defensive purposes, and up until recently they had survived many of the horrors of the collapse. Their size had numbered at roughly one hundred people, and they were known as the Nason Trybe. 

Their small size had also been their downfall. It resulted in a one-sided conflict with the Stehekin Trybe, who came out of the fighting victorious. As far as he knew, he and his three family members; brother, father, and sister, were the sole survivors of the Stehekin Trybe’s vicious invasion of the Nason's territory. On that fateful day he had been chopping wood while his sister was washing her clothes at the river. His father and brother had been off on a hunting trip.

Therefore he and his family members had escaped death. Even with Green Berets as their acting leadership, they still fell to the superior numbers of the Stehekin Trybe's raiding party, numbering roughly three hundred warriors. His family's plan was simple. They were to rendezvous at Grandpa Tom's cabin, then head South to their aunt's house in Rouge River Oregon, moving along a series of pre-selected rally points. While they had been separated during their flight and the resulting pursuit by Stehekin warriors, the plan allowed them to regroup. The other rally points would also enable them the chance rejoin and resupply, so that the opportunity to be reunited with one another was always present in the event of separation. They were to wait for each other for no longer than a two-week period at each rally point if possible. Grandpa Tom's cabin had been picked as the first location with the knowledge that the Stehekin Warriors wouldn't follow them into the 'Shunned Area', and because of the weapons and gear stored there.

While Wayne held an awareness of the plan, the purpose of the note was to keep him up-to-date in regards to the progress of his family members. However his sister had failed to leave a note indicating that she had been here, leaving details surrounding her activities up to speculation. This was negligent on her part. However, everyone should have been heading for Rouge River and no one planned to stay in the ‘Shunned Area.’ Unknown to Wayne, he would be in the ‘Shunned Area’ much longer than he planned to be.

There was hope for his family. His father had been a designated marksman in the United States Marine Corps. It was an indisputable fact that although his father was no superman, he could hold his own. According to the information in the letter, all of his family members were well-armed. An M1 Garand with its .30-06 caliber ammunition had quite a bit of punch, and his brother and father had skills that would keep them alive. The only real concern was his sister who at times could be foolish, although she was not hopelessly stupid. Everyone in the family, including Wayne, knew how to shoot and handle firearms. While Wayne was known for being a good shot, his father was a far superior marksman given his past training.

Wayne was a proven leader, having successfully lead several war parties. These qualities seemed to mean nothing for his overall survival in the 'Shunned Area' during his stay in this zone, but little did he know there would come a time when they would come in handy. He was also a skilled woodsman, and was known for his intelligence.

He gradually became overwhelmed by the sensation of acute sadness. Setting his food aside he reached into his back pocket and retrieved a necklace. It was composed of olive drab paracord, which had been ran through a small coin. Before the collapse the coin had been a quarter. A hole of a sufficient enough size to run the cord through the coin had been drilled through it. He had retrieved the necklace from the lifeless body of his girlfriend who had been shot dead during the Stehekin Trybe's most recent raid into their territory. He had previously given the necklace to her as a gift.

It seemed like somewhat of a strange gift. Why on earth would a woman want some rope with a coin attached to it? This particular young woman had an obsession with the time before the collapse, to the point where she liked to collect trinkets from those days which had no value. Both she and Wayne had only been children during those days. As a result, she didn't know much of that time other than what she had remembered from her childhood. Therefore she was known not only for collecting trinkets but for pestering the Libran for information about the days before the world in which they presently lived. Giving her a quarter, strange as it may seem, actually did mean something to her. Therefore she had frequently worn the necklace until the day she was killed.

Wayne forced back tears and swallowed his sadness, stuffing the necklace back into his pocket. He could not afford to be dwelling on his loss. In this day and age it would seem that tears were a luxury that he could not afford, neither could he afford to be thinking of revenge. Seeking after vengeance at this point was foolish, especially when the Stehekin Trybe was a fighting force of fifty-thousand strong. It would be as foolish as attempting vigilantism in this dark world in which it seemed as though evil reigned. Such a person who attempted to clean the world up with his gun would soon run out of ammunition, or find himself killed very quickly. The scum of the earth, often referred to by every day people as 'wolves', did not long tolerate a 'holier than thou' white knight. Although in some cases the overall lawlessness of the world and an abundance of firearms that could be scavenged if one knew where to search allowed the people to occasionally rise up against the filth that sometimes reared its ugly head.

These days, the biggest Trybe on the block was the Stehekin Trybe. Rumors circulated among the other Trybes that they were holding slaves, and treating them in a cruel fashion. Many were angered by this, but there was nothing that could be done; if you messed with the Stehekin Trybe you were squashed. Their fighting force was too large for anyone to be able to fight back against them. Yet Wayne remembered overhearing members of the Trybe talking about raiding parties and other groups that were moving south toward Oregon, disappearing. This had taken place during 'the rendezvous', which was a meet-up in which all the Trybes had called a 'truce' and had come together to trade and share news.

When he had finished eating, he opened the tins, cleaning and loading the rifle. He then set  it next to his bed, going to sleep in order to seek rest from the long trek of the day. That night, something large crashing through the woods awoke him from his slumber...

Monday, July 24, 2017

Dodging The Bullet

According to SpaceWeather.com we have dodged a potential monster of a CME!

MASSIVE EXPLOSION ON THE FARSIDE OF THE SUN: On Sunday July 23rd, a spectacular CME emerged from the farside of the sun. Coronagraphs onboard the orbiting Solar and Heliospheric Observatory (SOHO) tracked the fast-moving cloud as it billowed into space:

NASA's STEREO-A spacecraft, which has a partial view of the sun's farside, identified the source of the blast as active sunspot AR2665, familiar to readers of Spaceweather.com who watched the behemoth cross the Earthside of the sun earlier this month. STEREO-A observed an intense flash of extreme UV radiation from the sunspot's magnetic canopy:

http://www.spaceweather.com/images2017/23jul17/stereoa.png?PHPSESSID=a1f18n97nmuctgeatg6acve492

The intensity of the flash suggests (but does not prove) that the underlying flare might have been the most intense kind: X-class.
If this explosion had occurred 2 weeks ago when the huge sunspot was facing Earth, we would be predicting strong geomagnetic storms in the days ahead. Instead, the CME is racing away from our planet ... and directly toward Mars. Compared to Earth, the Red Planet is currently on the opposite side of the sun, and apparently in the crosshairs of this CME. Mars rovers Curiosity and Opportunity might be observing the effects of a solar storm later this week.
Coincidentally, yesterday's farside explosion occurred on the 5th anniversary of another significant farside event: The Solar Superstorm of July 23, 2012.  That superstorm, which has been compared to the historic Carrington Event of 1859, could have caused widespread power blackouts if it had not missed our planet.
Sunspot AR2665 will be back on the Earthside of the sun a little more than a week from now. If the sunspot remains active, it could bring a new round of geomagnetic storms and auroras to our planet in early August. Stay tuned. Free: Solar Flare Alerts

Sounds as though Sunspot AR2665 will get another shot at us soon! 

Friday, July 21, 2017

Exciting News!

It is my distinct pleasure to announce that 3ohEight has agreed to collaberate with me on a new storyline for the Apocalyptic world of the Warlord setting.

It is called Vulture Team 32. It follows the path of Wayne, a survivor of his trybe that was decimated by a Stehekin war party.

3ohEight is not available for the next four weeks so our expected release of the story is the last of August/beginning of September. The 1st story is basically written, it just needs the back story coordinated and some final editing done.

I'm super excited at this new development.

Sunday, March 5, 2017

The INCH Bag

The INCH Bag concept has been floating about the web for some time. For those who are not familiar with the concept I provide the following video. Many think bugging out is a bad idea, but there may be circumstances in your life where having one is paramount to you or your family's survival.



This may not be the kit for everyone, but is an example of one persons choices.

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Time



By the time you read this, it will be shorter still.

Friday, January 13, 2017

I Want One!

BN36 - Long Range Assassin
From the Noreen Firearms website:

"The BN36 Long Range Assassin was driven by the thought of recreating the M1 Garand, and revamping it into an AR style rifle. The dream was brought to life by Noreen in 2012 with early prototypes. The BN36 on the market today is a refined model of the original version, and will meet and exceed your expectations."

 Current choices available:
30-06 Springfield, 270 Winchester, 25-06 Remington

20 round mags available!
Available as a carbine also.

This thing is awesome!

Noreen BN36 Semi-Automatic .30-06 3-Mag Dump



Noreen BN36 killing a boulder at 640yds



Only about $2000.00. Ouch!
The carbine version is a bit less.

But you can always dream, right?

Friday, January 6, 2017

Now This Is Cool

I ran across this item and thought I would share this with you. The concept is pretty cool as it appears very light weight and is extremely portable.


Power to the people!