The backstory: I built that rifle from a bare action, well north of $2k in parts... plus the NF scope, I'm carrying over $3k in outlay... only relevant due to what I describe below... and many months of major obsessing. Tom and Jordan were privy to some of that; I think they were pretty sick of hearing about it <g>. Add in a ton of practice at long range for years now and I'm really feeling saucy about my rifle and skillz.
So I'm sort of trundling along out in the sage, tail end of my 2nd big hike-and-glass expedition of the day, hot as Hades, and this guy appears in front of me. He must have been bedded and stood up to see what strange beast was slouching through his desert. About 150 yards away. Horns are backlit, holy [bleep] here's my buck. I toss my rifle up. Chip shot. Gaaa! I can't see anything through my scope. The hell? I realize the front BC flip up is broken; it's just hanging there, no spring to pop it up. I wrap my thumb up over the barrel to hold it open. The adrenaline is hitting and I'm completely flustered now and in an awkward position with my damn front hand. He starts to turn to run; I miss, badly. He runs. The next two shots are a comedy of me trying to cycle rounds, hold the [bleep] cap open, and shoot a running antelope. Side note: they are FAST <g>. I miss. Twice. One round left. He STOPS, broadside, at maybe 225, 250 now. This is my last chance. I'm still in this ridiculous front hand position. Failure looms as a distinct probability. I muster up the presence of mind to take a deep breath and let the rifle settle. Boom! He takes off again but I can tell I killed him by how he's running, and sure enough he piles up in a cloud of dust and a flash of white belly fur out in the sage.
Turns out the little pin had backed out of the hinge enough to let the little coil spring that flips the cap pop out and get bent. Tried to get the tiny little thing bent properly back but it's toast. I'm sure BiMart will give me a new one. But the lessons of the day were a) to add that to the list of things I check on at least every now and then, and b) that a $12 plastic accessory can screw up your whole day no matter how well you think you've prepared. And also, that I kind of go all to pieces in that situation; I need to do some military/aviation type "failure drills".
Thinking lll take my soldering iron and sort of "stake" the pins in my Butler Creeks via a dab of melted plastic.
So that's my story! Funny chit. But man did I have a good time up there. The comraderie and intel-sharing between camps was really something. Just great folks. And Steens is one of the most purely sublime places I know of. Word to the wise.
