The 7mm Weatherby Magnum

This is a hot rifle with a cool story. Folks, check out this left hand 7mm Weatherby Mark V…

It’s one of the great ones, and the story behind it goes like this. About 35 years ago I was an engineer working for Aerojet (we manufactured cluster bombs and artillery ammunition) and the Weatherby plant was just up the road from us in Southgate, California. Weatherby had a retail sales outlet there, too.   It was awesome.  Hunting trophies (including an enormous full body mount of a standing polar bear that must have been 10 feet tall), all kinds of shooting gear, beautiful Weatherby rifles…you get the idea.

I stopped in one day and mentioned to Pat, the sales guy I had come to know, that I wanted to buy a Weatherby in 7mm Weatherby Magnum for my Dad.  I told him it had to be a left handed action (Dad was a southpaw), and I wanted a rifle with exceptional walnut.  “If you see one that has particularly nice wood, let me know,” I said.

Pat’s answer was immediate:  “Let’s go in the back and pick one out now,” he said.  In those days, they would take you into the Weatherby warehouse deep in the facility to select the rifle you wanted.

It was awesome.  Imagine being in an Army armory, you know, the ones with the plain wood racks and zillions of rifles stacked in them.   Now imagine those same plain wood racks filled with Weatherby Mk V rifles.   That’s what it was like.  I could have spent a year in that room, but after an hour I got it down to two rifles and I told Pat it would be cool if I could tell Dad that Roy Weatherby helped me select the rifle.

“Let’s go,” he said, and that’s exactly what happened. In two minutes I was in Roy Weatherby’s office and there he was.  I remembered my father and I studying the Weatherby catalogs when I was a kid.   They all had this photo of Roy Weatherby in his office, surrounded by animal skins, his personal gun collection, and hunting trophies.  Suddenly, Pat and I were in that photo.  And there was Mr. Weatherby.

Roy Weatherby was one hell of a man.  He spoke to me like we had known each other for years, and I guess in a sense we had.  He knew his customer base, and I had read about Mr. Weatherby growing up.  He wanted to know about the velocities of the 25mm ammo we manufactured at Aerojet, he wanted to know about me, and he wanted to know about my father.  Dad was a world-class trapshooter, and Roy wanted to know all about that, too.  The entire time we chatted (maybe 30 minutes), Pat and I were holding the two Weatherby rifles I had selected.

Finally, Mr. Weatherby said to me, “Joe, I understand you’re buying a Weatherby for your Dad and you need help selecting the rifle.”  We hadn’t told Mr. Weatherby that yet, but he knew.   Then he said to Pat, “Pat, let’s put those two rifles up here on my desk,” and we did.

“You know, from this side I like that one best,” old Roy said.  “Let’s turn them over.” We did, and then he said, “Oh, I see the problem.  From this side, I like this one best,” pointing to the other rifle.

Then he looked at me and said, “Joe, which one do you like best?”

“I like this one,” I said, pointing to the rifle in the photo on top of this blog.

“That’s the one I would have selected,” Roy said, with a knowing smile.

Mr. Weatherby obviously had done this before. He had helped in the selection, but it was my choice.  This was a wise man.  In a different time, I could imagine him suggesting slicing the baby in half like old King Solomon.  Just being in his presence was an amazing experience. Like I said, he was one hell of a man.  It was easy to understand why he was successful.  My guess is everyone who met Roy Weatherby loved the guy.

“Do you think your Dad would like a Weatherby catalog?” Roy asked.  Would he ever, I thought.  I still have memories of Dad reading those Weatherby catalogs when I was a kid.  They were big, glossy, full color affairs showing Weatherby custom rifles, famous people who hunted with Weatherby rifles, and more.   Roy pulled open a desk drawer, took a catalog from it, and inscribed the inside cover with a big Roy Weatherby signature.  It was a moment I’ll remember for the rest of my life.  The he gave me a Weatherby hat and a Weatherby belt buckle, and he said, “Give these to your Dad, too.”  It was an incredible day.

I was a Weatherby fan when I went in; when I left I was even more so. On the way out, I bought a Weatherby scope and a Weatherby rifle case.  Pat, the sales guy, told me they had other cases and other scopes that cost less, but I knew that wouldn’t do for me.  It had to be a Weatherby product.  If they had a guy there offering Weatherby tattoos, I would have opted for one of those, too.

I gave the rifle to Dad and he loved it. We spent several days on the range shooting the Weatherby, and then shortly after that, Dad’s number came up and he was gone.  Dad had heart disease, and it was his time.  That was a tough pill to swallow, but life goes on.  It was one of the lowest and saddest times of my life, but I will forever be grateful that I was able to give Dad the Weatherby and see him enjoy owning and shooting it.

The Weatherby had not been out of my safe since then, other than to run a patch through the bore and to keep it oiled. I didn’t shoot it because it’s left handed (I’m a righty), and then one day recently I was thinking about that. My Dad was left handed and he shot right hand bolt action rifles, so I reasoned that as a righty I could shoot a left hand rifle. And last year, I did.

That 7mm Weatherby Magnum cartridge is a real powerhouse. It’s hotter than the 7mm Remington Magnum by about 200 feet per second and the bark is ferocious. The recoil is significant, but truth be told, when I’m hunting I never feel the recoil and I never hear the shot.  That’s because my concentration is elsewhere.

I’m working on different loads trying to zero in on the secret sauce that will provide the tightest groups in his magnificent old rifle. And I’m having a lot of fun doing it.  Every time I head to the range with the 7mm Weatherby Magnum, I’m thinking of Dad and that day with Roy Weatherby.

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