A couple of months ago Joe Gresh wrote a blog seeking new writers. We picked up Mike Huber, who we already knew from a couple of guest blogs, we have another guy who may come on board (more about that when it’s confirmed), and most recently, Bobbie Surber agreed to join the ExNotes team.
Bobbie is the real deal. She raised four daughters, she’s a construction manager, she’s a rider, and she’s a writer. I know Bobbie rode a G 310 GS BMW all over Baja, she rides a blue Triumph Tiger these days (I used to ride a blue Triumph Tiger, so I know she has good judgement), and she did the Vietnam adventure ride with Mike Huber (a ride you read about on these pages).
Bobbie is an adventurer and she writes well. She will be bringing stories to us on all the above and more, and to start, Bobbie is writing a series on hiking the famed Camino de Santiago across Spain, Portugal, and France. The first installment of this European adventure is going in the queue in the next few days, and I think you will enjoy it. I sure did.
Stay tuned; as always, there are more good stories coming your way.
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You know those signs that tell you not to drive into flooded areas?
Every time I’d see one, I always wondered about the target audience. I mean, who would be stupid enough to drive into a flooded area? And if they were that stupid…well, maybe ol’ Darwin had the right idea.
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Based on the cover photo, you may have already guessed where this story is going. I don’t have to look very far to find someone stupid enough to “enter when flooded.” I see that guy in the mirror every morning when I shave.
You see, there’s a creek that flows across the dirt road out to the West End Gun Club. I’ve been driving across it for close to 40 years now. Most of the year, it’s a dry creek bed. After a rainy spell, we’ve had times when it was so obviously flooded I wouldn’t attempt to cross it. Most of the time. But other times when the water was flowing, it didn’t look bad enough or deep enough to keep me from taking a chance. I mean, what could go wrong?
I guess I’m one of those guys who has to urinate on the electric fence to see for himself. Yep, I finally got stuck, and stuck good. I always figured with my all wheel drive Subie I could get out of anything. But you know, AWD ain’t the same as 4WD. Something I learned today.
When I heard the underside of the Subie hit the ground on the ledge (that was now more of a bank than a ledge), it hit hard. I felt it as much as heard it. I was in trouble. I tried to back out, but I knew from the downward facing hood the Subie’s butt was in the air and I could feel the front wheels spinning in the water. I was balanced on the bank, and I could feel the car rocking and pivoting slightly to the right. It was like being in a formulaic movie or a bad dream when a car has gone out of control and is hanging over a cliff. I opened the door and the bank was directly under the opening, and as I looked at the ground, the bank was eroding. In the wrong direction. Water started coming over the door sill and into the car.
I beat a hasty exit out the passenger door. Other folks going to the range, wondering if they could cross, had stopped and were watching me. I had set the example. The spectators tried to help by pulling down on the rear bumper. It did no good. I was high sided, and if anything, the car was moving more toward the stream, which was starting to look like Niagara Falls. Yikes.
I called the Auto Club, but they put me on hold. The bank continued to give way under my Subie, so I called 911. They took my info and I never heard from them again, nor did anybody show. You know the old saying…when seconds count, the cops are only minutes away. The other spectators drifted away. I was on my own.
Then a miracle occurred. Good buddy Lee, who I met for the first time this morning, came by in a Jeep. A real Jeep. With a winch. We connected (literally and figuratively), but it was no good. As the winch did its thing, it dragged the Jeep toward the Subie. Lee and I looked at my situation. Lee put boulders in front of the Jeep’s wheels, and the winch dragged them along, too. “If I could hook up to another vehicle,” Lee said, “we could make this work.”
Then the second miracle occurred. Another newly-met good buddy named Aaron rolled up in a big Dodge pickup. He hooked up to Lee’s Jeep, Lee hit the winch button, and just like that (with some God-awful undercarriage scraping and grinding), I was free. For a few seconds, I thought my future held a commission as a U-boat commander, but no more. Lee and Aaron, wherever you are, thanks much!
This blog outlines the first steps in setting up the Lee Classic Turret Press Kit. Although it’s easy, there are a lot of steps and it’s more than you or I want to cover in a single blog. I’ll present additional blogs covering this topic in the coming days.
After the turret press has been secured to your reloading bench (you can view the Lee bench plate installation blog here), attach the primer catch tube to the barb fitting beneath the ram.
Lee provides a clear plastic bag containing the hardware items you see below.
You can install the press handle to operate the press from either the left side or the right side. I installed mine on the right side. To do this, install the bolt from the left side and the two fittings (one goes inside the other) on the right side of the ram linkage.
Insert the press handle on through the fitting, and then tighten the bolt.
After installing the press handle, you can operate the press to cycle the ram. Each time you do so by raising and the lowering the ram, the turret head will advance a quarter turn (or 90 degrees) counterclockwise. At this point, it’s a good idea to oil the ram, the ram linkage, and the turret. I used gun oil on my press. Lee states in their instructions that any gun oil will do.
I’m going to initially reload 9mm ammo on my Lee turret press, so the next step involved installing the Lee Deluxe 4-die set in the turret. We’ve previously written about Lee’s Deluxe 4-die sets for other cartridges here on the ExhaustNotes blog (we’ll include a set of links below). In my opinion, they are the best dies available from any reloading equipment supplier.
I started by installing the 9mm shell holder in the ram. After installing the shell holder in the ram, I raised the ram all the way up.
I next installed the the decapper and resizing die in the turret head. With the ram fully raised, I screwed the sizing die into the ram until it contacted the shell holder, and then locked it in place with the locking ring.
After doing the above, I lowered the ram and inserted a 9mm case in the shell holder. I then partially raised and lowered the ram halfway four times. That rotated the turret to position the sizing die directly above the ram again. You can also turn the ram manually. With the sizing die directly over the ram, I raised the ram fully. The sizing die resized the 9mm case, the old primer was pushed out of the case, and the primer was captured by the tube hanging beneath the ram.
The next die, installed one position to the left of the sizing die, was the expander die. After raising the ram, I screwed it all the way into the turret such that it touched the shell holder, and I locked it in position with its locking ring. I then repeated what I had done earlier. I raised and lowered the ram halfway four times to bring the expander die back over the ram. I put the 9mm case into the shellholder and ran the ram up fully. It flared the case mouth perfectly, just enough to allow starting a 9mm bullet.
I then installed were the last two dies. I installed the bullet seating die by partially screwing it into the turret’s third threaded hole, and then I installed the factory crimp die by partially installing it into the turret’s fourth threaded hole. I didn’t attempt to adjust the bullet seating die or the factory crimp die yet; that will come later and we’ll discuss this in subsequent blogs.
Lee includes two priming arms and a lock ring wrench in the clear plastic bag containing the turret press hardware. You may have noticed that the four dies are right next to each in the turret. The lock ring is a clever tool that makes it a bit easier to tighten the four dies’ lock rings.
Two days from now, I’ll cover installing and adjusting Lee’s auto-drum powder measure, and then after that I’ll have a blog on installing Lee’s safety primer feed. Stay tuned, there’s more coming on this awesome reloader.
Our story on the Lee Classic Turret Press Kit continues. There’s a lot in the kit, and we’re presenting articles on each item (links for our earlier Classic Turret Press Kit, its contents, and other Lee-related blogs are included at the end of this blog). Today’s blog focuses on the Lee bench plate. The bench plate allows quick installation and removal of any Lee press, and its price is $39. The bench plate idea is a good one. I own a couple of Lee progressive reloaders and I don’t have extensive real estate on my loading bench. The Lee bench plate is the answer.
Here’s what you get in the Lee bench plate kit.
The smaller upper plate bolts to the press base (the red casting that forms the base of any Lee reloading press). The larger lower plate bolts to your reloading bench. The two zinc plated pieces are Z-bars that screw into the lower plate and capture the upper plate bolted to the press. The upper plate has several holes that allow it to be attched to any Lee press. You can buy extra upper plates if you have other presses. It makes it easier to change presses on your bench.
The Lee bench plate includes everything you’ll need except the bolts required to attach the lower plate to your reloading bench (that makes sense because Lee doesn’t know the thickness of your reloading bench). You have to drill four holes through your bench to attach the lower plate. Here’s what the lower plate looks like installed on my reloading bench.
After attaching the lower plate to your reloading bench, the next step is to attach the upper plate to the reloading press. I installed the upper plate on my Lee Classic Turret Press using the three panhead bolts, nuts, and washers Lee includes. Note that the press is inverted in the photo immediately below.
It’s not immediately apparent in the Lee instructions how to orient the upper plate (i.e., which side faces up). It should be installed such that the flat base of the plate is at the bottom, and the two lips on either side extend up. This will be more clear in the photos below.
Once the upper plate is attached to the press, the press and plate are set on the lower plate and the Z-bars can be secured to the lower plate with the four Phllips head screws Lee provides. The Z-bars capture the upper plate, securing the press to the lower plate and the reloading bench.
Here’s the press mounted on the bench with the Lee bench plate. It’s a clever approach.
If you have other Lee presses or reloading gear, you can purchase additional upper plates (Lee calls this part the steel base block) directly from Lee. Lee includes the mounting hardware (the panhead bolts, nuts, and washers) with each additional upper plate. Lee lists the other equipment items compatible with the bench plate in their instructions:
Classic Turret Press
Load-Master
Breech Lock Reloader Press
Breech Lock Challenger
Classic Cast
Breech Lock Classic Cast
Pro 6000 Six Pack Progressive
Red Base Pro 1000
Red Base 4 Hole Value Turret Press
Year 2018+ Pro 1000 Press
Year 2018+ 4 Hole Value Turret Press
Auto Breech Lock Pro Press
Automatic Processing Press & Automatic Case Primer
Auto Bench Prime
If you don’t want to purchase additional upper plates, you can make your own upper plate from 3/4-inch plywood. Lee includes a drawing in their instructions showing the dimensions of a plywood upper plate. That’s a nice touch. Lee also offers information on plywood bases for, as they describe it, “other color” presses. That’s a nice touch, too.
The key question in all of this is: Do you need the Lee bench plate? If you use one press only, the answer may be no. You could just mount your press directly to the bench and not use the plate at all. But if you own other Lee reloading gear (or another “other color” press), you might want to consider the Lee bench plate. Or, if you want to get your press out of the way to use your bench for other purposes (such as cleaning a gun), it makes sense. The bench plate greatly eases removing the Lee press for installing other equipment or to clear the bench. It’s a good idea and good value for the money. It makes sense for me.
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Susie and I recently visited the Franklin Automobile Museum in Tucson, Arizona, and while we were there I photographed their 1913 Thor Model U motorcycle. It’s a fascinating machine from many perspectives, one of which is what those guys had to do back in the day to start their motorcycles. Today, we have electric starters and fuel injection…hit the ignition, touch the starter button, and go. Turn back the clock 15 years or so and it was open the fuel petcock, close the choke, turn on the ignition, and hit the starter button. Turn back the clock 50 or 70 years and you have to add kickstarting to the mix. Go back a century or more (for this 1913 Thor, it would be a cool 110 years), and wow, you practically had to go to Thor University to learn the drill.
Starting a Thor would keep a rider busy. The bike had to be on its rear wheel centerstand to get the rear wheel off the ground (why will become clear in a bit). Then you had to put the engine in gear by pushing the clutch lever forward. You might think that’s counter-intuitive. Read on, blog acficionados.
If your Thor had the the optional two speed rear hub transmission (a $40 option on top of the motorcycle’s $290 price in 1913), you would want to make sure it was in the high gear position. You do that by turning the T-handle on top of the clutch lever parallel to the motorcycle. Having the bike in second gear would make the engine easier to turn over; it would be like putting your bike in second for a run-and-bump start (and I realize as I type this how few readers will know what a run-and-bump start is). But we’re not going to run-and-bump this priceless 1913 Thor. Stay with me; this is going to get interesting.
Next up: Prime the engine by taking a bit of fuel from the Thor’s fuel tank priming petcock and manually inject gasolina into the intake cups (the Thor has openings in its intake domes for this purpose…those Thor engineers thought of everything). Or, you could use the optional device on top of the fuel filler cap to extract a bit of fuel. Like I said, they thought of everything.
You then retard the ignition timing via the right twistgrip (you read that right; the left twistgrip works the throttle) by twisting it clockwise. Having the ignition fire after top dead center, you see, makes it easier for the engine to catch a spark and continue running. So where’s the throttle? That’s on left handlebar. Open the left twistgrip a bit by turning it clockwise. It will stay where you leave it; there’s no return spring.
That funny little chrome lever on the right handlebar? It’s not a clutch (remember, that was ginormous lever to the left of the fuel tank). The little right-handlebar-mounted lever is a compression release. Pull it in, and it opens the exhaust valves to, well, release the compression. It makes it easier to pedal, and we’ll get to that momentarily. Maybe you didn’t believe me when I told you this was a complicated undertaking. Read on. It gets even more interesting.
The Thor has a total loss lubrication system. That term, total loss, doesn’t describe how your 401K account is doing these days; it refers to how the engine uses oil. It uses and consumes it (it’s not returned or recirculated). Think of it as Autolube for four strokes. Ah, shoot, I’ll bet a lot of you are too young to know what Autolube is, too. Gresh can explain it later. Back to the main attraction, that total loss lubrication system…there’s an oil petcock halfway down the oil line on the left side of the motorcycle, between the sight glass and the crankcase. It needs to be open (you may void your warranty if operate the motorcycle with it closed). The Thor would consume a quart of oil every 50 to 300 miles depending on conditions and your riding style, but the tank carried a gallon, and with a top speed somewhere between 50 and 65 mph (again, depending on conditions, the rider, and whether or not you had the optional two speed transmission), it’s not likely you would run out of oil. “They smoke a lot,” one Thor expert told me, “so as long as you see blue smoke behind you, you’re good.”
The last bit of preparation involved closing the choke on that big tomato can Thor carb nestled in the V between the cylinders, and that involved two actions: Closing a thumbscew on the carb’s rear and screwing down a tapered knob on top.
All right…now we’re ready to get to the good part. You may have noticed that the Thor has two chains (one on each side of the motorcycle) and a set of pedals (like a bicycle). Once you have completed all the actions described above, you can get on the Thor and start pedaling like Lance Armstrong charging up the Col du Tourmalet (I say that figuratively; the good guys at the Franklin Automobile Museum are not going to let you climb onto their 1913 Thor). Your pedaling is going to drive the rear wheel via the chain on the right side of the motorcycle from the pedals’ chainring to the rear wheel sprocket. That’s going to spin the rear wheel and tire (which is why we wanted the bike on its centerstand), transmit the rotational inertia you generated through the rear-hub-mounted transmission, turn the drive chain on the left side of motorcycle, transmit your torque through the clutch (which we engaged earlier) and spin the Thor’s 61-cubic-inch V-twin. As you ponder all of that, be thankful that you’re not trying to crank the 1914 Thor’s larger 74-cubic-inch engine, and be thankful that I clued you into actuating the compression release. And finally, be thankful that you’re adding the rear wheel and tire’s flywheel effect to what you (the motive force in this cacaphony of early American motorcycle starting activities) have set in motion.
Once you’ve attained sufficient rotational inertia, release the right handlebar compression release. If Thor and the other ancient Norse gods are smiling, the engine will catch, and you’ll hear the opening chords of that delightful “potato-potato-potato” V-twin symphony we Americans love. As soon as you are sure the music will continue, pull that large left clutch lever rearward to disengage the clutch and reverse direction on the pedals (like you would have on the Schwinn you rode as a kid). As mentioned earlier, there’s a coaster brake back there; in fact, it’s the only brake on this motorcycle. While the engine is warming up, advance the ignition (with the right twistgrip), open the carb choke (it involves two actions, as mentioned above), and then, as the owner’s manual explains with early American Aurora engineering precision, apply “a trifle” of throttle (with the left twistgrip). The owner’s manual authors’ descendants, I’m sure, went on to become writers for Saturday Night Live in the early days when that show was still funny. One more thing…if it’s a cold day, Thor recommended placing a rag soaked in warm water around the carburetor’s float chamber.
Once everything is percolating to your satisfaction, roll the motorcycle forward off the stand (Pro Tip: Remember to disengage the clutch first), and while adjusting the throttle, feather the clutch lever forward to start moving. As you read this, think about simultaneously feathering that clutch lever and working the throttle with both of your left hands. Whew!
After writing and then reading the above, I think I’m going to step out into my garage and start my Enfield 650. By pressing a button. Just because.
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…to go for a motorcycle ride. On the other hand, I’m always finding reasons not to go to the gym. But I think I found a solution. Lately, I’ve been riding the Enfield to the gym. I’m more interested in getting on the motorcycle than I am in going to the gym, but if I ride the Enfield to the gym…well, you get the idea.
There are usually two or three other guys who ride to the gym. Two have Harleys, another guy has a new Guzzi, and there’s even a Yamaha V-Max parked there on occasion. I’ve spoken with a few of those guys, and like me, they’re not spring chickens. I think they’re younger than me, but I suspect we’re all qualified for the Silver Sneakers subsidy. We’re old and we’re all trying to stay young. Such is the way of the world. The motorcycles help.
We’re lucky here in California; we can ride pretty much year round. I’m at about 1700 feet above sea level, right at the base of the San Gabriel Mountains, and even in the winter months it’s usually in the high 60s or low 70s during the day. That’s perfect riding weather. It can get cold at night, but who rides at night?
Well, I guess I do, sometimes. Always by myself, and if it’s a night ride, it’s always short. There’s something about a late night ride that’s simultaneously invigorating and relaxing. The last few nights, it’s been warm enough. Everything seems more focused on a motorcycle at night. I hear the engine more clearly, and I see what the Enfield’s headlight wants me to see. I love the Enfield’s instrumentation, especially at night. It’s a simple two cup cluster…a tach and a speedometer. Just like my Triumphs were in the 1960s and 1970s. I really don’t need anything more. I rode a new motorcycle for one of the manufacturers a couple of weeks ago and the instrument cluster was way too complex. It had a brilliant TFT display and computer game graphics, but overall it was distracting and actually took away from the riding experience. Just a tach and speedo is all I need or want. Even the tach is kind of silly (I never use a tach to shift). But it looks, you know, balanced with the matching speedometer.
When I lived in Fort Worth about 50 years ago, I rode a Harley Electra Glide. All that motorcycle had for instrumentation was a speedometer and I never felt an info deficit. Late night solo rides were my favorite rides. Fort Worth summers were brutal (well over 100 degrees during the day and very humid). At night it would drop into the high 90s (still with tons of humidity), but it felt way cooler. Sometimes I’d stop for a cup of coffee at a 24-hour donut shop on Camp Bowie Boulevard. Sometimes I’d just ride, heading west toward Weatherford and the great beyond (once you pass Weatherford, there’s pretty much nothing until you reach Midland/Odessa). One time I realized it was time to go home when I saw the sun coming up.
Back to the Enfield: It’s a much better motorcycle than the Electra Glide ever was and it’s a hoot to ride. Circling back to my opening line, riding to the gym makes for a good excuse to get on the bike. Not that anyone ever needed an excuse to go for a motorcycle ride. But it defeats the excuses I make for myself when I don’t feel like going to the gym.
Today I took the Model 60 to the range. All shooting was at the standard full size B21 police target and the distance 7 yards. I shot double action as fast as I could to see if I could keep them on the target. I did, as you’ll see below.
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The first load was with the 158 grain Hursman cast bullet (a truncated conical bullet with a flat point) and 2.7 grains of Bullseye. I loaded this ammo on my Star reloader with the bullet seater backed out to account for the longer 158 grain bullet. The Star did a nice job on these cartridges.
Here’s 50 rounds, shooting double action rapid fire (really rapid fire, as fast as I could while still hanging on to the front sight).
I was pleased with that target and the load. The load was light and easy to shoot. The Star can’t easily be adjusted for powder charge and I have it set up for wadcutter ammo, so all I changed was the bullet seating die. I didn’t even adjust the crimp; I just backed out the seater.
Next up was the same bullet (the 158 grain Hursman cast bullet), loaded with 5.4 grains of Accurate No. 5. I loaded this with the single stage RCBS Rockchucker.
The load was noticeably hotter than the first load, but not so much that it became unmanageable. Here’s 50 rounds of the above ammo on the B21. The brown areas that appear to be bullet holes are not holes on this target; that’s the sun shining through previous holes behind the target.
One shot went out of the 5X ring at 11:00. Eh, you can’t win them all. The guy in that target wouldn’t know the difference.
Then I shot another 50 rounds, this time wadcutter ammo. This was with the Gardner 148 grain powder coated double ended wadcutter bullet and 2.7 grains of Bullseye. I loaded this ammo on the Star.
These had three shots out of the x-ring, but I was really flying, doing my best to imitiate Ed McGivern. You know, you can make a double action revolver cycle faster than a semi-auto pistol. Ed McGivern could, anyway.
I had a good day at the West End Gun Club, but that’s stating the obvious. I don’t think I’ve ever had a bad day at the West End Gun Club, and I’ve been going there for close to 40 years. Here are the take-aways from today’s range session:
I found it was easy to shoot really, really fast with the Model 60 and still keep all shots on the target.
At this distance, all of the loads grouped about the same. I’d have to go out to 50 feet, I think, to see an accuracy difference.
The one most pleasant to shoot was the 158 grain Hursman bullet with 2.7 grains of Bullseye, and at this distance, it was accurate. It’s a nice load. That load had less recoil than the same load with the 148 grain wadcutter bullet. I think that’s because the 148 grain wadcutter bullet has more bearing area so the pressure is probably higher. After returning from the range, I loaded the remainder of my Hursman cast bullets with this load.
The gun shoots to point of aim with all three loads.
The Model 60 is a wonderful handgun and shooting a snubnose .38 is fun. The keyboard commandos can wax eloquent about the need for 20-round magazines in the latest Wunder 9; five shots from a Model 60 does it for me.
As if the day weren’t perfect enough, someone left 250+ pieces of once-fired 9mm brass on the range. I ordinarily would not use range brass and Lord knows I have plenty of 9mm cases, but this was pristine stuff and I could see that it had never been reloaded. It’s in my blood, I guess; I can’t leave good brass laying on the ground (it was in my tumbler 10 minutes after I got home).
There are three outfits that I recommend you consider if you’re reloading .38 ammo and if you want your handgun to perform well. The first is TJ’s Custom Gunworks. TJ did the action job and polishing on my Model 60, and his work is beyond stellar. The next is Lance Shively’s TriggerShims.com. If you want to assure your cylinder gap is what it’s supposed to be to assure smooth cycling and minimize misfires, Lance’s shims will do the trick and they are inexpensive. The next is Lee Precision reloading gear. I am migrating to near-complete use of Lee equipment, and I used a Lee Deluxe 4-die set when loading the .38 ammo on a single stage press. I recently acquired a Lee four turret press as part of a Lee Precision package deal. I’ve always been completely satisfied with the gear I’m using from Lee. Watch for a near-term blog on the four turret press kit. I’m eager to get it into service, and when I do, you’ll read about it here.
Two more things: Here’s a link for the B21 targets you see above (they’re different and they’re fun to shoot). And, I frequently get compliments on the Altamont grips my Model 60 wears. They make the gun much more comfortable to shoot and they don’t print if you’re carrying concealed. If you want a set of Altamont grips, a good place to get them is on Amazon.
Lee’s Classic Turret Press Kit includes their Modern Reloading manual. It’s written by the late Richard Lee (the founder of Lee Precision), it’s the second edition, and Lee’s retail price is $40.98. By way of comparison, on Hornady’s site their reloading manual is $59.99, on Sierra’s site their reloading manual is $39.99, on the Lyman site their reloading manual is $34.98, and on the Speer site you get the load data for free (it’s published on their site). You can also purchase the Lee manual on Amazon; oddly, the price on Amazon is higher than it is on the Lee website.
The Lee reloading manual is comparable in heft and contents to other big reloading manuals. It’s a hardcover book with 692 pages and several chapters on various reloading topics, including basic instructions and more in-depth discussions of advanced reloading topics. Richard Lee wrote the first parts covering various topics including the company’s history, Lee’s reloading equipment, primers and primer sensitivity (this was extremely interesting), how to reload, reloading for best accuracy, rifle reloading, handgun relaoding, measuring powder, powder safety, pressure issues, matching bullet metal to chamber pressure, hardness testing, bullet casting and sizing, shotgun reloading, and muzzle loading. I thoroughly enjoyed reading Lee’s articles. They are written in a folksy, technical, and easy to follow manner. It’s like having a conversation with one of my shooting buddies. That, all by itself, is a good reason to buy the Lee reloading manual.
The load data tables start on Page 161 and continue to Page 686 (the load tables comprise most of the book). These are interesting and they include several bits of data not found in other reloading manuals. There’s the usual dimensioned cartridge drawings, starting load and max loads, the pressure, and the velocities, and then there’s more. These additional pieces of information not usually found in other reloading manuals are:
Useful Case Capacity. On each of the load table cartridge drawings, Lee includes the useful case volume in cubic centimeters. Why this is useful will be apparent when you read the next bulleted statement.
Volume cc. This table entry, immediately to the right of the starting load, shows the volume occupied by the starting charge. You can compare this to the useful case capacity info (see above) included in the cartridge drawing to get an idea of how full the cartridge case will be at the starting charge. Usually, a cartridge will perform better if the case is full or nearly full. I’ve not seen this information in other reloading manuals. I think it’s a good thing to know when selecting which powder to use.
Lee Dipper. Lee manufactures different size powder dippers. The powder dipper is basically a yellow plastic spoon used to scoop a known volume of powder. Some reloaders use this approach rather than using a powder dispenser or a scale, but others do. Dippers are included with Lee dies, and you can also buy a set of different sized dippers separately. It’s not the powder measurement and dispensing approach I used, but I found the data interesting. I’ve never seen this data in other load manuals.
Auto-Disk. Lee makes an Auto-Disk Powder Measure. It’s a device that uses a sliding disk with different volume chambers (or cavities) in it to control the volume of powder dispensed by their Auto-Disk Powder Measure. These cavities are denoted by decimal numbers. The Lee reloading manual tables identify the appropriate Auto-Disk to use with charges included in the table. I’ve never seen this data in other manuals.
1 Grain Factor. This is another bit of data not included in any other reloading manual I’ve ever seen. The 1 Grain Factor can be used to show velocity reduction if the maximum powder charge is decreased by one grain. You take the maximum velocity, multiply it by the 1 Grain Factor, and it will show the decrease in velocity that will be realized by reducing the powder charge 1 grain. There’s a similar 1 Grain Factor included that can be used to calculate pressure reduction for a 1 grain powder reduction The 1 Grain Factors are not included for every cartridge (they are included for the hotter magnum cartridges such as .44 Magnum and 7mm Remington Magnum).
The Lee manual breaks with typical reloading manuals on the order in which loads are shown. In other manuals, the cartridge sequence is organized by bullet diameter, and then within each bullet diameter category, by cartridge maximum velocity. There is a table of contents in the Lee manual (it’s on Pages 159-160) showing all the cartridges included in the Lee manual and where their load data appears.
If you are a reloader who enjoys getting into the more technical aspects of load development (and what reloader isn’t?) I believe you will thoroughly enjoy Lee’s Modern Reloading. I think it’s a first-class work as good as or better than the manuals from Lyman, Sierra, Hornady, and other reloading manual publishers. It’s money well spent, and when you purchase Lee’s Classic Turret Press Kit, you basically get it for free.
This is a blog I wrote for CSC Motorcycles several years ago (time sure flies when you’re having fun). The topic was as timely then as it is today. I like big bikes, but I like small bikes more, and I’m convinced that a small bike makes way more sense than a big bike for real world adventure touring. I thought I would post the blog again, as we are having way too much fun with CSC, BMW, Janus, and other companies who have seen the light. Here’s the blog from way back.
A 250cc bike seems too small to many riders. Is it?
The motorcycle craze in the US really started in the mid-1960s. I know motorcycling goes back way before that, but motorcycling was essentially a fringe endeavor until Honda came on the scene. We met the nicest people on Hondas, if you remember, and that ad tagline was a winner (so is “Don’t Miss The Boat,” by the way). (Note: “Don’t Miss The Boat” was CSC’s tagline for the US RX3 introduction, and those who didn’t miss the boat participated in one of the best deals in the history of motorcycling.)
Honda’s sales model was a good one. They pulled us in with small bikes and then convinced us we needed larger and larger bikes. Many of us started with a Honda Cub (the 50cc step-through), we progressed to the Super 90 (that was my jump in), then the 160cc baby Super Hawk, then the 305cc Super Hawk, and at that point in about 1967 that was it for Honda. They didn’t have anything bigger (yet). After the 305cc Super Hawk, the next step for most folks was either a Harley or a Triumph.
You know, back in those days, a 650cc motorcycle was a BIG motorcycle. And it was.
But Honda kept on trucking…they offered a 450 that sort of flopped, and then in 1969 they delivered the CB-750. That bike was so far out in front of everyone else it killed the British motorcycle industry and (with a lot of self-inflicted wounds) it almost killed Harley.
The Japanese manufacturers piled on. Kawasaki one-upped Honda with a 900. (Another note…it’s one of those early Kawi 900s that Gobi Gresh is restoring in the Zed’s Not Dead series.) Honda came back with a 1000cc Gold Wing (which subsequently grew to 1100cc, then 1500cc, and is now an 1800cc). Triumph has a 2300cc road bike. Harley gave up on cubic centimeters and now describes their bikes with cubic inches. And on and on it went. It seems to keep on going. The bikes keep on getting bigger. And bigger. And bigger. And taller. And heavier. And bigger. In a society where everything was being supersized (burgers, bikes, and unfortunately, our beltlines), bigger bikes have ruled the roost for a long time. Too long, in my opinion.
Weirdly, today many folks think of a 750 as a small bike. It’s a world gone nuts. But I digress…
I’ve done a lot of riding. Real riding. My bikes get used. A lot. I don’t much care for the idea of bikes as driveway jewelry, and on a lot of my rides in the US, Mexico, and Canada, I kind of realized that this “bigger is better” mentality is just flat wrong. It worked as a motorcycle marketing strategy for a while, but when you’re wrestling with a 700-lb bike in the soft stuff, you realize it doesn’t make any sense.
I’ve had some killer big bikes. A Triumph Daytona 1200. A Harley Softail. A TL1000S Suzuki. A Triumph Speed Triple (often called the Speed Cripple, which in my case sort of turned out to be true). All the while I was riding these monsters, I’d see guys on Gold Wings and other 2-liter leviathans and wonder…what are these folks thinking?
I’d always wanted a KLR-650 for a lot of reasons. The biggest reasons were the bikes were inexpensive back then and they were lighter than the armored vehicles I had been riding. I liked the idea of a bike I could travel on, take off road, and lift by myself if I dropped it. To make a long story short, I bought the KLR and I liked it. I still have it. But it’s tall, and it’s heavy (well over 500 lbs fully fueled). But it was a better deal than the bigger bikes for real world riding. Nobody buys a KLR to be a poser, nobody chromes out a KLR, and nobody buys leather fringe for a KLR, but if that’s what you want in a motorcycle, hey, more power to you.
More background…if you’ve been on this blog for more than 10 minutes you know I love riding in Baja. I talk about it all the time. My friends tell me I should be on the Baja Tourism Board. Whatever. It is some of the best riding in the world. I’ll get down there the first week I take delivery on my CSC Cyclone, and if you want to ride with me, you’re more than welcome. (Note: And I did. We did a lot of CSC Baja tours, and CSC introduced a lot of folks to riding and to Baja. That one innocent little sentence became a cornerstone of CSC’s marketing strategy.)
I was talking up Baja one day at the First Church of Bob (the BMW dealership where me and some of my buddies hang out on Saturday mornings). There I was, talking about the road to San Felipe through Tecate, when my good buddy Bob said “let’s do it.” Baja it was…the other guys were on their Harleys and uber-Beemers, and I was on my “small bore” KLR. The next weekend we pointed the bars south, wicked it up, and rode to San Felipe.
That was a fun trip. I took a lot of ribbing about the KLR, but the funny thing was I had no problem keeping up with the monster motos. In fact, most of the time, I was in the lead. And Bob? Well, he just kept studying the KLR. On Saturday night, he opened up a bit. Bob is the real deal…he rode the length of Baja before there was a road. That’s why he was enjoying this trip so much, and it’s why he was so interested in my smaller bike. In fact, he announced his intent to buy a smaller bike, which surprised everybody at the table.
Bob told us about a months-long moto trip he made to Alaska decades ago, and his dream about someday riding to Tierra del Fuego. That’s the southernmost tip of South America. He’d been to the Arctic Circle, and he wanted to be able to say that he’d been all the way south, too.
I thought all of this was incredibly interesting. Bob is usually a very quiet guy. He’s the best rider I’ve ever known, and I’ve watched him smoke Ricky Racers on the Angeles Crest Highway with what appeared to be no effort whatsoever. Sometimes he’d do it on a BMW trade-in police bike standing straight up on the pegs passing youngsters on Gixxers and Ducksters. Those kids had bikes with twice the horsepower and two-thirds the weight of Bob’s bike, and he could still out ride them. Awesome stuff. Anyway, Bob usually doesn’t talk much, but during dinner that night on the Sea of Cortez he was opening up about some of his epic rides. It was good stuff.
Finally, I asked: Bob, what bike would you use for a trip through South America?
Bob’s answer was immediate: A 250.
That surprised me, but only for an instant. I asked why and he told me, but I kind of knew the answer already. Bob’s take on why a 250: It’s light, it’s fast enough, it’s small enough that you can pick it up when it falls, you can change tires on it easily, you can take it off road, you can get across streams, and it gets good gas mileage.
Bob’s answer about a 250 really stuck in my mind. This guy knows more about motorcycles than I ever will, he is the best rider I’ve ever known, and he didn’t blink an eye before immediately answering that a 250 is the best bike for serious world travel.
It all made a lot of sense to me. I had ridden my liter-sized Triumph Tiger in Mexico, but when I took it off road the thing was terrifying. The bike weighed north of 600 lbs, it was way too tall, and I had nearly dropped it several times in soft sand. It was not fun. I remembered another ride with my friend Dave when he dropped his FJR in an ocean-sized puddle. It took three of us to get the thing upright, and we dropped it a couple of more times in our attempt to do so. John and I had taken my Harley and his Virago on some fun trips, but folks, those bikes made no sense at all for the kind of riding we did.
You might be wondering…what about the other so-called adventure bikes, like the BMW GS series, the Yamaha Tenere, or the Triumph Tiger? Good bikes, to be sure, but truth be told, they’re really street bikes dressed up like dirt bikes. Big street bikes dressed up like dirt bikes. Two things to keep in mind…seat height and weight. I can’t touch the ground when I get on a BMW GS, and as you’ve heard me say before, my days of spending $20K or $30K on a motorcycle are over. Nice bikes and super nice for freeway travel, but for around town or off road or long trips into unknown territory, these bikes are just too big, too heavy, and too tall.
There’s one other benefit to a small bike. Remember that stuff above about Honda’s 1960s marketing strategy? You know, starting on smaller bikes? Call me crazy, but when I get on bikes this size, I feel like a kid again. It’s fun.
I’ve thought about this long and hard. For my kind of riding, a 250 makes perfect sense. My invitation to you is to do the same kind of thinking.
So there you have it. That was the blog that helped to get the RX3 rolling, and CSC sold a lot of RX3 motorcycles. Back in the day, CSC was way out in front of everybody on the Internet publicizing the Zongshen 250cc ADV bikes, and other countries took notice. Colombia ordered several thousand RX3s based on what they saw CSC doing, other countries followed, and things just kept getting better and better. The central premise is still there, and it still makes sense. A 250 may well be the perfect motorcycle.
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I had lunch with good buddy TJ (of TJ’s Custom Gunworks) recently and he showed me an LAR Grizzly .45 Winchester Magnum handgun he recently completed. It’s wild. It’s the one you see in the photo above and in the additional photos below. Here’s TJ’s description:
The Path of Bushido, a custom L.A.R. Grizzly .45 Winchester Magnum (it’s a supersized 1911). This handgun is Duracoated with Skulls of Death and Kanji characters depicting the seven Samurai virtues of the Bushido. This magnum features the typical 1911 match action, trigger, and reliability work, as well as barrel and bushing clearance reduction. The gun also has melted edges, a speckled Duracoat finish, a Bullet-guide rod, and Millett target sights with orange DayGlo on the front.
The photos can only begin to the do justice to this stunning handgun (trust me, I’ve seen it in person). And that .45 Win Mag cartridge…think of it as the illegitimate offspring of the already-powerful .45 ACP cartridge (my favorite, by the way) and the .44 Magnum. It’s a very impressive hand cannon.
One of the things I like best about TJ’s latest creation is the Millett sights. In my opinion, there are none better. I have these on both my Rock Island Compact 1911 and my bright stainless Colt 1911, and TJ is the pistolsmith who installed them on both guns.
If you were wondering about the Bushido emblems on the Grizzly, here’s an explanation:
I asked TJ what the Grizzly looked like before he worked his magic, and TJ shared this photo with me:
At the end of our visit, I asked TJ what else he’s been up to lately. Take a look. These are magnificent. This first one is a SIG P239 with black camo treatment, a jeweled hammer, a rounded trigger, and lots of internal smoothing and reliability enhancement.
This next one is compact Colt Agent 1911 with Tiger Duracoat and a matching a matching TJ’s knife.
This is another compact 1911 (a Colt Defender) with a camo surface treatment and all the internal reliability action work. It’s not easy to get a compact 1911 to perform, but TJ sure did it on mine. I’ve put thousands of rounds through my TJ-customized Rock Island Compact. TJ took what was a relatively unreliable gun and turned it into a masterpiece.
Here’s a TJ-modded Ruger Match Champion revolver, with jeweled bits, recontoured trigger, and an action job.
One last photo…this is a SIG P220 grip in which TJ custom inlayed the US government insignia. TJ does a lot of work for senior government folks here and abroad. It’s cool stuff.
I’ve had six handguns and a rifle customized by TJ, and every one of them is a stellar example of his craftsmanship. These include my Model 59, a bright stainless Colt 1911, my MacManus Colt 1911, the Rock Island Compact, a Model 60 Smith and Wesson snubbie, a Ruger Mini 14, and my new Colt Python. In addition to my guns, folks who follow the ExNotes blog took my advice and had TJ work on their guns, like Marty with his custom Colt Combat Commander, Bob with his Beretta 92, and others who are not listed here. You might have noticed that TJ advertises here on ExNotes. If you want to reach the folks who follow the blog, you might consider doing so, too. You can contact us at info@ExhaustNotes.us and you can reach TJ by clicking on the link below.