As a first step in bringing the Star progressive reloader back to life, I washed it down with WD 40 and squirted some Kroil penetrating oil on it, but before I did that, I shot a few photos with my Nikon and its macro Sigma lens. These are better photos than the ones in the previous blog shot with my cell phone. With apologies in advance for this bit of redundancy, I’ll start with the “before” photos.
The Star Reloading Machine
Here’s the Star label. They were originally manufactured in San Diego. I didn’t know that.
Star Reloader Parts and Subassemblies
This is a side view of the Star showing the powder container and the powder dispensing mechanism. There’s a lot of dust and dirt on the Star. No rat poop like Gresh’s MGB GT, thankfully.
This is the base plate. It still has several cartridge cases in the baseplate shell holder.
Here’s another “before” photo of the base plate. The doodad on the left is the case feed mechanism. The mechanism on the right is the primer feed.
This is the decapping and resizing die. It’s a bit rusty. I’m thinking it’s probably a carbide die, which means the cases don’t have to be lubed for the resizing operation.
The photo above is a macro “before” shot of the powder dispensing mechanism.
The photo below is a “before” shot of the head of the reloader. It’s the piece that reciprocates up and down with each manual lever stroke.
A shot from the top of the reloader, showing the top of one of the reloading dies.
Cleaning the Star Reloader
Moving on to the cleaning operation, these are the things I’m using initially: WD 40, Kroil (a penetrating oil), a toothbrush, and an oily rag. This is the initial cleaning just to see what’s going on. A deeper scrub of each subassembly will follow in subsequent blogs.
I gave the entire press a spritz with WD 40.
Here’s a better photo of the original Star decal. I’m not going to do a full-blown concours style restoration of the Star and I don’t want to bring the reloader back to as new condition. I like the patina and my intent is to get it working again, displaying the aging that has naturally occurred on an old piece of equipment like this. It’s a resurrection, not a restoration.
The bottom of the press is starting to look better already.
The powder container unscrews from the powder dispensing mechanism.
Here’s a photo of the powder container’s aluminum lid.
Here’s one of the lid’s underside. Note the breather hole. There won’t be any vapor lock on this puppy.
This is the powder dispensing mechanism after the powder container has been removed.
I have a new good buddy named Bruce Williams who restores and sells parts for these vintage Star reloading machines, and I asked him if he could tell me the date this Star reloader was manufactured based on the serial number I found etched into the machine’s base (see the photo below).
Bruce explained that Star never put a serial number on their reloaders, but many police departments, schools, commercial reloaders, clubs, and other organizations who owned Star reloaders applied a property tag number. I wonder who this machine belonged to. It has a history and I’d sure love to know it.
The .38 Special
As I was cleaning the Star, I found I could rotate the shell plate into position so that I could remove one of the several cartridge cases it held. The shell plate rotation is sticky, but I’ll clear that up when I do a detailed cleaning of the shell plate area (a topic for another blog, to be sure). The case was a .38 Special, which told me that’s what this machine had been set up to reload. That’s good. I shoot .38 Special ammo in a couple of guns.
Before 9mm handguns became the rage in the 1980s, the .38 Special revolver was used by most police agencies and pistol competitors. As you can imagine, a lot of departments, schools, and clubs went through a bunch of .38 Special ammo back in the day. In those days, the .38 Special was probably second only to the .22 Long Rifle cartridge in terms of quantity sold, and the .38 Special used to be the most commonly reloaded cartridge in the world. It’s been eclipsed by the 9mm, but it’s still a great cartridge and there are still a lot of folks shooting .38 Special. I’m one of them.
The Model 60 Smith and Wesson
As I explained in our first blog on the Star, a friend of mine gave it to me when I started the Peoples Republik of Kalifornia transfer process for a snubnosed .38 Special revolver I recently scored (I got a killer deal). It’s a stainless steel Model 60 Smith and Wesson Chief’s Special, and it’s a honey. We’ll have a blog on the Model 60 sometime in the near future, and if all goes well, I’ll use reloaded .38 Special ammunition crafted on the resurrected Star.
The Powder Dispenser
The Star’s powder dispenser looked pretty funky, and I could see it still held a few grains of powder when I peeked into the cavity that throws the charge. I applied a few drops of Kroil to the screw heads so it could soak in overnight. The powder dispenser will be one of the first subassemblies I disassemble and clean. Kroil is a penetrating oil; it will creep into the threads so that the screws can be removed without burring the slots. The powder dispenser will be the topic for our next Star blog.
I didn’t recognize what this was (in the photo below) when I first saw it, and it was thoroughly coated in crud. Then I realized…it’s the bullet seating and crimping die. I’ll explain more about this in a subsequent blog, too.
Here’s a close look at the brass slider in the powder dispenser. It’s marked “2.7 GR.” I’m hoping that’s for 2.7 brains of Bullseye propellant, which is the go to accuracy load (along with a 148 grain wadcutter bullet) in the .38 Special cartridge. I’ll learn more when I disassemble the powder dispenser. I’m itching to get into it.
Here’s one last look at the powder dispenser, with the powder chamber mounted above it. In the next blog, I’ll explain how this subassembly works to dispense powder.
That’s it for now, my friends. More to follow, so stay tuned.
You can follow the entire Star progressive reloader story on our Resurrections page.
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Sometimes you just get lucky. That’s what happened to me. I’m buying a used snubnosed .38 Special (there will be a blog on it in a few weeks), and I used a different federal firearms license dealer for the transfer (I always buy through an FFL dealer to keep things legal). The seller had an FFL dealer he wanted to use, and much to my surprise it happened to be one of the rangemasters at the West End Gun Club (a guy I already knew). We all had a nice visit, and while I was there, I was looking around the shop and my eye turned to an old progressive reloader. I love old stuff, and if you’re reading this, you probably do, too.
Now when I say progressive, I don’t mean the reloader leans left or votes democrat. Nope, progressive in the reloading world means each pull of the lever results in a finished round coming off the machine. With each stroke, a cartridge case is resized and deprimed, another is flared, another is charged with powder, another has a bullet seated in the brass case and crimped, and a new one is spit out. Then, on the lever upstroke, the base plate rotates (it progresses, hence the name), and the sequence continues. The output on a progressive is impressive. You can reload north of 500 rounds an hour on these things.
This particular progressive is one of the first ones and it was made by a company called the Star Machine Works. They first came out in the 1930s. I don’t know exactly when mine was made, but it had my attention this morning and I guess that was obvious. My rangemaster buddy told I could take it home with me if I wanted.
“How much?” I asked. I think he could see that the hook was already set. I wanted it. And I guess it showed.
“You could take it home with you.”
“I think I will,” I said, “but tell me how much.”
“No,” he said, “you can take it home. It’s yours.”
You can’t beat a deal like that. The pictures you see here are of my new-to-me (but probably older than me) Star progressive reloader on my reloading bench. It’s going to go through a Joe Gresh-style resurrection, and we’ll tell the story here on ExNotes. There won’t be any cosmetics (I love the patina on this thing), and I want to keep the look as you see it here. The Star will only undergo the stuff that’s needed to make it functional. And you’ll be able to follow the Star’s resurrection here on the blog.
This Star is set up for .38 Special and .357 Magnum (both cartridges take the same dies), and there are still a few cases in the machine from who knows when. You can see how they index into the plate, and it’s that plate that advances with each stroke of the lever.
The photo above shows the case feeding mechanism. I haven’t attempted to clean it up or actuate the press yet. What you see is exactly how it came home with me.
The big tube behind the lever and head is the powder container, and the narrow tube to the right is (I think) the primer dispenser.
I’ll start cleaning the Star this week, and once I’ve got it cleaned and lubed I’ll do my best to understand how it operates. I’m not nearly as mechanically talented as Joe Gresh, so this resurrection will probably take a while. But I’m going to enjoy the ride, and I think you will, too. Like we always say: Stay tuned.
Boy oh boy, we’ve got cool stuff to link to, like our Resurrections page and our Tales of the Gun page. And hey, if you don’t want to miss any of it, be sure to subscribe to the ExNotes blog. We’re running a special this month, and if you sign up now, it’s free!
I think CSC gets $3995 for a new RX3 these days, and that’s with all the goodies…skid plate, luggage, ABS, 300W alternator, auxiliary accessory switches, the 19-inch front wheel, and probably a few more things I don’t know about. That’s my RX3 in the photo above. I’ve been riding it for more than 5 years. For the Sinophobic haterbators out there, I’ve never found any fish oil in it, I’ve spent substantial time in the factories where they make the RX3 and there are no children chained to the manufacturing equipment, and the Zong techs are most definitely not slave labor. My RX3 has been and still is a good motorcycle.
Looking over the windshield, on the road in Baja.
I know you can buy a used Sportster for what a new RX3 costs if you shop around; the topic comes up nearly every time I mention the price of an RX3. It’s a silly thought, actually, because I’m still looking for that prospective buyer who is trying to decide between a used Sportster and a new RX3. I’ve been on that quest ever since I started writing about the RX3 six years ago, when the keyboard commandos first started pushing the used-Sportster-in-lieu-of-an-RX3 argument.
Here’s a hot flash: That person (the dude or dudette struggling with such a decision) doesn’t exist. You either want an ADV motorcycle, or you want a used bar-hopper with “much chrome” (as the Sportster ads often highlight). I have never met, or even heard of, somebody pondering whether they should buy a used Sportster or an RX3.
Behold: The financial equivalent of a new RX3.
I hear the same kind of keyboard drivel when Janus motorcycles are mentioned. They’re stunning motorcycles, and I’ve had good times riding them through northern Baja. Invariably, though, the used Sportster financial comparison will emerge. Janus is always polite in their responses. Me? I’m a noncombatant and I don’t respond to such Internet drivel. If you want a used Sportster, it’s a free country. Go for it.
To listen to the keyboard commandos, there must be a lot of folks out there dreaming about used Sportsters. Maybe that’s the answer to Harley’s problem. Even though motorcycle sales in general are up sharply since the pandemic started, Harley’s sales most definitely are not. In fact, to read The Wall Street Journal, Harley is circling the drain. Not to worry, though, because I think I have the answer: Rather than rewiring or hardwiring or screwing around with $30K electric motorcycles, or hiring high-priced executives with zero motorcycle experience (as they seem to love to do), Harley should simply stop production and only traffic in used Sportsters. There would be no need for a factory; that’s a huge savings right there. More savings? Harley wouldn’t need to spend anything on advertising; there’s a potful of worldwide web wannabe wizards pushing used Sportsters already doing that for free.
Used Sportsters. Who knew?
Back to my RX3: I’ve covered a lot of miles on it here and overseas. I had it out this Sunday charging through the smoke we call breathable air here in the Peoples Republik of Kalifornia. I hadn’t ridden the RX3 in a couple of months, but it started right up (like it always does) and it’s still running strong (like it always has).
Good buddy Greg on the road to the cave paintings in Sierra San Francisco, Baja California Sur.
It’s kind of a funny story about how the RX3 came to America. I was in China on a consulting gig for another client when CSC asked me to poke around for a 250cc engine for its line of Mustang replicas. It’s funny in the sense that a lot of Internet people told us they’d buy the Mustang if only the bike had a 250cc engine (instead of its 150cc engine). I found a source for the 250cc engine (Zongshen; they weren’t very hard to find). CSC put the 250cc Zong engine in the Mustang and sales…well, they remained essentially the same. All those yahoos who said they’d buy one if the bike had a 250cc motor? They went MIA. I don’t know what they did after CSC introduced the 250cc engine, but they sure didn’t buy a new Mustang. Ah, I take that back…I do know what they did…they posted more comments on Facebook. It’s hard work being a keyboard commando, I guess, and it’s lonely down there in those basements. But they kept at it. Why buy a CSC Mustang, they said. You could buy a used Sportster for that kind of money, they said. Actually, most of the CSC Mustangs were optioned up by their customers so much that their cost approached and sometimes exceeded what a new Sportster would cost, but that’s neither here nor there.
A 250cc CSC Mustang, accessorized to the max.
The arrangement with the Big Z was a good one, and it led directly to things like the RX3, the RX4, the City Slicker, the TT250, the SG250, and more. It’s how I came to own my RX3, and like I said above, I am still riding and enjoying it. Even though I could have bought a used Sportster.
Good buddy Kyle from China, somewhere in South Dakota’s Black Hills. Don’t worry; he’s not armed (and if you’re wondering what that’s all about, you can read that story here).
I’ve been up and down Baja lots of times with lots of RX3 riders. I’ve been across China, including the Gobi Desert and the Tibetan Plateau, and I’ve ridden around the Andes Mountains in Colombia. I’ve ridden to Sturgis, then back across the top of the US, and down the Pacific Coast with a bunch of guys from China. Gresh rode with me on a lot of of those rides. I know, I know, he didn’t get invited on the Colombia adventure, but hey, he didn’t invite me on the Russia ride, either. But to stay on topic: It’s all been on the RX3.
Riding into the Gobi Desert with Joe Gresh as my wingman. Or was I his? In 6000 miles and 40 days of riding across China, we did not see a single Sportster, used or new.
Those early RX3 rides were marketing demos, basically, designed to show a few guys having the time of their life and demonstrating to everybody else that the RX3 had real chops as an ADV bike. But don’t think I wasn’t nervous. We took 14 guys and one gal on a 1700-mile ride through Baja literally the same week the first RX3s arrived in the US from China (I was sweating bullets on that one), and then we immediately took another 12 or 15 guys from China and Colombia (and one motojournalist from Motorcyclist) on a 5000-mile ride from southern California to Sturgis, back across the top of the US, and down the Pacific coast on what was arguably one of the most highly-publicized (in real time, too) motorcycle publicity stunts ever. I was scared the entire time, thinking something might break and generate a lot of bad press. I guess I didn’t realize how well things were going until the last night of the trip, 4700 miles into it, when Gresh told me to relax. “You won, man,” he said. He was right. But just think: I coulda had that used Sportster.
About 10 years ago, maybe more, I had a gig in Houston to teach an FMEA course to a consulting company. This particular consulting outfit had a contract to teach Failure Modes and Effects Analysis to their customer, and they had taken the assignment without knowing anything about the topic. It happens more often than you might imagine. It was no big deal for me as I’d been teaching FMEA for years, I had a class ready to go, and I was in and out in a couple of days. There was a nice paycheck at the end, and it was all easy peasy.
While I was in Houston, I found a local gunstore. I stopped in to check out what they had. I do that pretty much every place I go and I’ve been doing it for nearly 50 years. You never know what you’re going to find. The Houston gunstore was a disappointment (like most have been in the last 20 years) because all they offered (rifles, handguns, and shotguns) were these black plastic abominations. Like the cannibals say, there’s no accounting for some people’s taste.
Anyway, the Houston gunshop had a junkbox/discount container holding all the gunshop detritus they were blowing out. You’ve seen that sort of bargain bin before, I’m sure…things that are one step away from the dumpster. In that box was a beat-up old Leupold 4X scope that was so severely worn there was almost no anodizing left, the lenses at both ends were scratched and chipped, and there were dents and dings along the scope’s length.
But, it was a Leupold. In the scope world, that’s as good as it gets. Leupold scopes are the best. I bought that scope for $20, figuring maybe I’d use it if Bass Pro ever ran another scope sale where they give you $40 on any trade-in scope. They used to run sales like that, and I’ve used decrepit scopes as trading fodder, but my trade-ins were always cheapie scopes that had failed and didn’t cost much more than $40 when new. That wasn’t the main reason I pulled the trigger, though. That scope was a Leupold. Even though it was trashed, it was still a Leupold.
The hoped-for future scope sale at Bass Pro never materialized (I guess they learned their lesson from guys like me on past sales). The Leupold went under a shelf on my reloading bench and I kept it for when I had to mount scopes with twist-in rings, figuring the clapped-out old Leupold 4X was good for that kind of abuse. With all the damage on the lenses you couldn’t hardly see through the thing. It became my scope mount installation assembly aid. Now it was in my junkpile instead of the one at that gunstore in Houston.
About a month ago good buddy Greg and I were on the range and a different Leupold scope (a 3×9) that I had on a .22 250 Ruger No. 1 wouldn’t adjust (it’s the scope on the No. 1 in the large photo above). That surprised me, as a Leupold scope had never failed on me before. The elevation dial was stuck. I wasn’t worried, though. Leupold scopes have a lifetime warranty, as mentioned in the video below:
When I got home I took the 3×9 scope off the No. 1 and sent a note to Leupold’s customer service. Then, just for grins, I told Leupold about the old 4X (the one I described above), and I asked if they could refurbish it. I didn’t know if Leupold offered that kind of service for old scopes. Within a day, I had an email from Leupold with a return material authorization for both scopes, and off they went. I didn’t think they’d be able to do anything with the 4X scope, and they didn’t tell me what they would charge to refurbish it. But I sent it in anyway.
The Leupold 3×9 came back a couple of weeks ago and it’s fixed, cleaned, and it looks great. Leupold somehow managed to refinish the minor marks in the anodizing (you know, what you get from the scope rings), and the scope could almost pass for new. I’m very satisfied with it.
And then, a week or two later, the 4X scope (the one I paid $20 for) arrived. Except it wasn’t the scope I had sent to Leupold. It was instead a brand new Leupold FXII 4×33 (they don’t even sell these anymore), but there it was, brand new and in a new shrink wrapped Leupold box. As a point of reference, when this scope was last offered by Leupold (I’m not sure when that was), they went for $389.
My charge? $0.
Yep, Leupold replaced that beat-up old scope with a brand new one at no charge. I wish I had taken a photo of the original scope. Trust me, it looked like a $20 bargain bin item with one leg in the trash and the other on a banana peel. In its place, I now have a brand new Leupold.
You might wonder: Why a straight 4X scope? Even though many scope companies don’t offer fixed power scopes in 4X these days, I think that a simple 4-power magnification is the best there is for hunting. The higher mags have too narrow a field of view, it takes too long to find the target, and the whole variable power thing, to me, is a solution to a problem that doesn’t exist. Nope, I’m perfectly happy with a straight 4X scope.
Leupold doesn’t offer the straight 4-power scope any more, but they have a wide variety of variable scopes. The most frequently seen variant is the 3×9 Leupold. This is the Leupold you see on that beautiful Ruger No. 1 you see at the top of this blog. I have the 3×9 Leupold on my Model 70, too…the same one I used on a successful wild pig hunt a couple of years ago.
Folks, trust me on this: When people say Leupold has fantastic customer service, they speak the truth. I can’t imagine ever buying another scope from any other company.
Letters from Uncle Dave is quite a read. It’s the story of Staff Sergeant David Rosenkrantz, the middle child of Russian Jewish immigrants who joined the US Army and became a paratrooper. SSG Rosenkrantz fought in Sicily, Italy and Holland during World War II. He was killed in battle and listed as missing in action for 73 years. I originally heard this story from Phil Rosenkrantz, SSG Rosenkrantz’s nephew and a fellow retired professor in the College of Engineering at Cal Poly Pomona.
Good buddy Phil is many things. One of the adjectives that can be accurately assigned to him is diligent. Another is persistent. Professor Rosenkrantz spent the last 20 years searching for Uncle Dave, and it was a search that ended successfully. Phil identified where his uncle was buried in Europe. SSG Rosenkrantz’s remains were returned to the United States, and last year he was reinterred in Riverside National Cemetery with full military honors. You may have seen it reported; the story made national news.
Letters from Uncle Dave contains 49 letters SSG Dave Rosenkrantz wrote home, 106 images, documents and maps, and much more. I was one of the beta reviewers for Phil, and I’m happy to report that Letters from Uncle Dave is now available on Amazon. You should pick up a copy. It’s a great read.
More ExNotes book, movie, and product reviews are here!
We recently blogged about the General Patton Memorial Museum at Chiriaco Summit, California, and in that blog, we mentioned the museum was closed due to the Covid 19 pandemic. Well, that’s changed…I had a nice conversation a couple of days ago with Margit Chiriaco Rusche (Co-Founder and President of the Museum) and she told me the Patton Museum is now open. I’m going to plan a ride out there as soon as the heat breaks (watch the ExNotes blog for more details), and if you’d like to go, let us know.
Margit asked me to mention the Patton Museum’s USO Room and theatre, the lecture series, and the library. These are important parts of the Museum and we’re happy to do so.
The Patton Museum’s theatre and USO room.
The Patton Museum has hosted two years of lecture series and Margit tells me they were well attended. Prior presenters have included the Superintendent of Joshua Tree National Park and a key speaker from the Metropolitan Water Department (refer to our earlier blog for the story about the Patton Museum’s Big Map, donated by the MWD), as well as several others. The lecture series was suspended during the pandemic, but it will resume in 2021. My good buddy Phil may be one of the speakers next year on his research and his new book, Letters from Uncle Dave. We’ll have an upcoming blog on Phil’s new book in the near future, too, so as always, keep an eye on the ExNotes blog.
Another shot inside the USO Room.
The USO Room presents the story of the United Service Organizations, a group focused on keeping military morale high. This exhibit features exhibits on Al Jolson and Bob Hope, two major forces in the USO’s entertainment world. The USO Room has the original juke box used at Camp Young’s entertainment center (Camp Young was the headquarters camp for the Desert Training Center, and it was located at Chiriaco Summit).
One of many exhibits at the Patton Museum.
The Patton Museum library contains a large book collection, along with notebooks chronicling the lives and activities of World War II veterans (the Museum currently has over a hundred of these, and more are being added). It includes tactical maps used by Patton during World War II, and a collection of rare books. The library is also a source of genealogy information.
If you would like to learn more about the General Patton Memorial Museum, Chiriaco Summit, and the Chiriaco family, in addition to our earlier blog on the Patton Museum you might want to pick up a copy of Chiriaco Summit, a book that tells the story well. You should buy a copy. It’s a great read.
A couple of weeks ago I tested three .45 ACP loads in a Model 625 Smith and Wesson and my Rock Island Armory Compact 1911 using Winchester’s 231 powder and Jim Gardner’s 230-grain cast roundnose bullets. We’ve done a bunch of accuracy testing in both .45 ACP revolvers and autos with other loads (and you can find those stories here). This blog focuses specifically on Jim’s 230-grain roundnose bullets with Winchester 231 propellant.
Reloaded .45 ACP ammo with Gardner 230-grain cast roundnose bullets. The 230 cast roundnose bullets replicate GI hardball ammo and this bullet feeds in just about any .45 auto.
To get to the point quickly, the Gardner 230-grain cast roundnose bullets did well (as you’ll see below). My testing consisted of three .45 loads with 4.5, 5.0, and 5.6 grains of WW 231 powder:
I was checking for accuracy and functionality in both guns. Here’s what I found:
The Compact 1911 likes 5.0 grains of 231, and that load functioned best with this powder in the automatic. The slide locked back after the last round the way it is supposed to; it would not do so with 5.6 grains of 231. Getting a short-barreled 1911 to function well is a bit tougher than a full-sized 1911. With 5.0 grains of 231 and the 230-grain cast bullets, my Compact 1911 functions reliably. Your mileage may vary.
4.5 grains of 231 functioned okay in the 1911, too, but it is the least accurate load in both the 1911 and the Model 625 (of the three loads that I tested).
The Model 625 likes both 5.0 and 5.6 grains of 231, with a slight accuracy edge going to the 5.0-grain load (although what you see here is probably more a result of my skills than anything else). The 625 is not as accurate with the lighter 4.5-grain 231 load.
Lyman’s reloading manual has 5.8 grains of 231 as the accuracy load with this bullet, but I didn’t go that high (it was a max load). Like I said, it doesn’t function reliably in the Compact 1911, and my testing showed 5.0 grains to be the Model 625’s sweet spot from an accuracy perspective.
All shots were at 50 feet, and all loads used the Lee factory crimp die (which assures easy chambering in 1917-style revolvers). The loads would do better from a machine rest or a steadier shooter. It was hot out on the range the morning I fired these targets and that probably adversely affected accuracy, too.
Here are the Compact 1911 targets that I shot using the 5.0-grain 231 load:
Compact 1911 results: Close enough for government work. I use Alco targets for this kind of testing; these have four silhouettes per sheet.
The Compact 1911 is not a target gun, but it is accurate enough for its intended purpose. The Rock Compact 1911 is very concealable and it’s the handgun I carry most often. They are surprisingly inexpensive and surprisingly accurate with the right loads.
These are the targets with the Model 625 and 5.6 grains of 231:
The big Smith and Wesson Model 625 worked well with 231 and Jim’s 230-grain roundnose bullets. This is the 5.6-grain target; 5.0 grains of 231 were even more accurate for me.
The Model 625 Smith and Wesson is more accurate than the Compact 1911 (hey, no surprises there). They are both fun guns to shoot.
I usually load .45 ACP ammo with either Unique or Bullseye powder, but I thought I would try 231 just because I had some on hand and I wanted to see how it would do. I have an accuracy load for the Compact 1911 with Bullseye and a 185-grain bullet that we wrote about earlier. Other guys tell me 231 is their preferred .45 ACP propellant and I still had a can of it that I had purchased for the 9mm cast bullet comparo some time ago, so I thought I would give it a try in the two guns featured here. With the sketchy availability of reloading components during these uncertain times, it’s good to know that this powder works well in .45 ACP. But after this test, I’m going to stick with the other two propellants (Unique and Bullseye), assuming I can get them. What I didn’t like about 231 is that it is a sooty powder…I found it to be significantly worse in that regard than Unique.
WW 231 propellant is accurate, but it sure is a dirty powder. My left hand was covered in powder soot after just a few rounds.
I’ve been real happy with Gardner’s bullets. They are less expensive than other cast bullets, the accuracy is good, and I observed no leading in either handgun. I’ll be purchasing Gardner bullets again. If you haven’t tried Jim’s bullets, you might give them a try.
More Tales of the Gun, 1911, 1917, bolt action sporter, milsurp, load data, and other good shooting and reloading posts are here!
Our last day on the road in Colombia was just a few days before Christmas, and it was a fine ride down from the Volcan Nevado del Ruiz back home to La Ceja. It had been a grand adventure, and I had mixed emotions about it coming to an end. I was looking forward to going home, but I felt bad about wrapping up what had been one of the greatest rides of my life.
Posted on December 22, 2015
Yesterday was our last day on the road. It was yet another glorious day of adventure riding in Colombia.
The night we spent under the Volcan Nevado del Ruiz was freezing. It was the coldest night we experienced on this trip. I had on every layer of clothing I brought with me when we left. Juan told me not to worry, it would warm up as we descended. As always, his prediction was right on the money.
I had mixed emotions as we rolled out that morning. This ride has been one of the great ones, and I am always a little sad on the last day of a major ride because I know it is drawing to a close. But I am also eager to get home. This was a magnificent ride, and it was a physically demanding one. We experienced temperature extremes, from the humid and sultry tropics to the frigid alpine environment we were leaving. The riding was simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying. We road magnificent winding mountain roads, but at times the traffic (especially when we were passing the big 22-wheeled tractor trailer trucks) was unnerving. My neck was sore, most likely from the stress of this kind of riding. But it was grand, and riding Colombia is one of life’s grand adventures.
Juan knows all the good spots in Colombia, and he took us to this one where we could grab a few photos with the volcano steaming in the background.
I had to get a shot of the three of us with the bikes, using the D3300’s self-timer. If we look like three guys (the three amigos) who were having the ride of their lives, well, it’s because we were.
We rode on. We went through towns, we went through the twisties, and we passed more trucks. Another day in Colombia, another few hundred miles. At one point, Juan took us on a very sharp 150-degree right turn and we climbed what appeared to be a paved goat trail. Ah, another one of Juan’s short cuts, I thought. And then we stopped.
“This is Colombia’s major coffee-producing region, and we are on a coffee plantation,” he announced when we took our helmets off. Wow. I half expected Juan Valdez (you know, from the old coffee commercials) to appear, leading his burro laden with only the finest beans. It was amazing. I had never been on a coffee plantation (or even seen a coffee bean before it had been processed), and now here we were. On a coffee plantation. In Colombia. This has been a truly amazing ride.
That big stand of lighter yellowish-green plants you see just left of center in the above photograph is a bamboo grove. More amazing stuff.
These are coffee beans, folks. Real coffee beans.
The beans are picked by hand, Juan explained. It’s very labor-intensive, and these areas are struggling because the world-wide coffee commodities markets are down.
Juan picked a bean and showed me how to peel it open. You can take the inner bean and put it in your mouth like a lozenge (you don’t chew it). To my surprise, it was sweet. It didn’t have even a vague hint of coffee flavor.
As we were taking all of this in, two of Colombia’s finest rolled by.
Juan told me that the police officers in Colombia often ride two up. I had seen that a lot during the last 8 days. Frequently, the guy in back was carrying a large HK 7.62 assault rifle or an Uzi. Colombia is mostly safe today, but that is a fairly recent development.
Vintage cars are a big thing in Colombia. A little further down the road we saw this pristine US Army Jeep for sale. I thought of my good buddy San Marino Bill, who owns a similar restored military Jeep.
Here’s one last shot of yesterday’s ride…it’s the Cauca River valley.
The Andes Mountains enter Colombia from the south, and then split into three Andean ranges running roughly south to north. You can think of this as a fork with three tines. There’s an eastern range of the Andes, a central range, and a western range. The Cauca River (which we rode along for much of yesterday) runs between the western and central Andes. The Magdalena River runs between the central and eastern ranges.
Okay, enough geography…we rolled on toward Medellin (or Medda-jeen, as they say over here) and dropped Carlos off at his home. Juan and I rode on another 40 kilometers to La Ceja (or La Sayza, to pronounce it correctly) to Juan’s home, and folks, that was it. Our Colombian ride was over.
Like I said above, I always have mixed emotions when these rides end. It was indeed a grand adventure, and I don’t mind telling you that I mentally heard the theme from Raiders of the Lost Ark playing in my head more than a few times as we rode through this wonderful place.
In the next few days, I’ll post more impressions of the trip. In a word, our AKT Moto RX3s performed magnificently. The RX3 is a world-class motorcycle, and anyone who dismisses the bike as a serious adventure riding machine is just flat wrong. I’ve been riding for over 50 years, and this is the best motorcycle for serious world travel I’ve ever ridden. Zongshen hit a home run with the RX3.
I’ll write more about the minor technical distinctions between the AKT and CSC versions of this bike, my experiences with the Tourfella luggage (all good), and more in coming blogs. I’ll tell you a bit about the camera gear I used on this trip, too (a preview…the Nikon D3300 did an awesome job).
Today I’m visiting with the good folks from AKT Moto to personally thank them for the use of their motorcycle and to see their factory. It’s going to be fun.
More to come, my friends…stay tuned!
Get all of the blogs on Colombia here. If you want to read the book about this ride, pick up a copy of Moto Colombia!
My first-edition Citizen Blue Angels watch, the one you see above, is one of my favorites. There’s a lot going on in what the watch displays, including the time of day in three time zones (local, any other location in the world, and Greenwich Mean Time). The Citizen has a stop watch, a countdown timer, a calendar, and the ability to set up to three alarms. It also has a 24-hour clock. Those two LCD displays at the bottom of the watch face? I haven’t figured those out yet. I guess I could read the Owner’s Manual. Some day, maybe. And that complicated bezel? That’s a slide rule. I’ll explain it in a bit.
I travel overseas frequently (or at least I used to, before this Covid 19 business hit), and knowing what time it is wherever I am and what time it is at home is a feature I like. The watch has a digital display for every time zone and the analog hands display the local time. Or, you can reverse the displays. Press two buttons simultaneously, and the displays switch (what was displayed digitally displays on the analog hands, and vice versa). It’s a cool feature and it’s fun watching the hour hand sweep around to a new time zone.
One feature I use a lot is the stop watch. It’s handy when I’m cooking, which I like to do.
Ravioli alfredo, with mushrooms, timed to perfection by the Blue Angels. Three minutes on the boil for the ravioli provides the al dente texture I prefer.
The slide rule is cool, too. It’s the complex blue bezel with all the numbers and graduations. Go back 50 years and every engineer on the planet had and used a slide rule (we had pocket protectors, too, but that’s a story for another blog). My engineering class was the last one that used slide rules. Calculators had just been invented, and in the early 1970s a basic Hewlett Packard or Texas Instruments calculator sold for something north of $600. That was a lot of money, and I remember thinking that calculators would never catch on. Who needs a $600 calculator when you have a slide rule?
A few years ago we road tested the early CSC 150 Mustangs, and we hired a couple of my Cal Poly engineering students (guys who weighed 130 pounds soaking wet) to ride the things. We wanted to check fuel economy, and flyweight riders would register the best possible miles per gallon. At our first fuel stop we noted miles and fuel. I used my Citizen’s slide rule bezel and calculated the fuel economy while our young engineers were still fumbling with their cell phone calculators. One of them asked how I knew so quickly, and when I told them I used a slide rule, I had their attention. These two young engineers had never seen a slide rule, much less one built into a watch bezel. I showed them how the slide rule worked, and they had a lesson right there at the gas pump from their old engineering professor.
Steve (CSC’s CEO), Peter, and Joel by a historic bridge in the San Gabriel Mountain foothills. The verdict was in and my Citizen watch made it official: 98.3 miles per gallon.Citizen Blue Angels slide rules can be amazingly accurate. The outer bezel is the numerator, and the inner bezel is the denominator. We went 116 miles and used 1.18 gallons of fuel, so the calculation for mpg is 116 miles/1.18 gallons, or 98.3 mpg (as represented by the two arrows on the right). You read the answer on the outer bezel over the 10 on the inner bezel (as represented by the two arrows on the left). It’s 98.3. Easy, isn’t it?
Citizen Blue Angels styling themes have been applied to several iterations and styles of their Blue Angels series since I bought my watch. There have been titanium versions, solar powered versions, leather strap versions, GMT versions, radio-synched-time versions, and more. I checked the Citizen official US website as I wrote this blog and they show nine different models in the Blue Angels watch collection. That’s not counting models that have been discontinued (like mine).
I don’t need or want one of the newer Blue Angels watches. Mine is the original version and I like it. Like most quartz-movement watches, it’s scary accurate. Yeah, it takes a battery, but a battery seems to last about three years and I can live with that (spending $3.25 every thousand days for a new battery is doable). I think I spent about $275 for my Blue Angels watch when I bought it 20 years ago. That was in the pre-Amazonic era (which came after the Triassic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous periods), when dinosaurs like me ruled the planet. New Blue Angels Citizen watches today range from the high $300s to just under a thousand bucks. They seem to last forever, so your money will be well spent.
The funny part, I guess, is that the real Blue Angels, the guys (and gals) who fly F-18s for the US Navy and the US Marines, don’t wear Citizen Blue Angel watches, and I don’t know if they ever did. In researching this topic, I found that the Blue Angels’ official watch is an IWC (they go for a cool $10,900), but I don’t care. I like my Citizen.
The IWC Blue Angels watch. Got a spare $10,900? And just look at it: For that kind of money, you’re not even getting a slide rule.
I’m not sure what the relationship is between the Blue Angels and the Citizen company these days. I tried to find out with several search phrases on Google, but I came up empty. My guess is that the Navy allows Citizen to use the name for a fee, but that’s just a guess on my part.
Citizen also offered a Thunderbirds version of my watch, something they no longer do (the Thunderbirds are the US Air Force flight demonstration team). The Thunderbirds watch is an even rarer animal. I don’t think the colors work as well as the Blue Angels watch (they look better on an F-16), but hey, different strokes for different folks.
A used Citizen Thunderbirds watch that sold in Singapore a couple of years ago for 50 Singaporean dollars (about $40 US). Nice, but not as nice as the Blue Angels version.
I used to have a bunch of cool Blue Angels photos I shot at the Reno Air Races (photos of the real Blue Angels flight team in action), but I guess I deleted them (I looked, but I could not find any). I had posted the photos way back when on the old MotoFoto site, and a law firm sent me a registered letter reminding me that my ticket to the Reno Air Races included a prohibition against displaying any photos from the event. It must have been a slow day for the lawyers. I imagine with Instagram and Facebook that would never fly today. If you ever had an opportunity to see a Blue Angels or Thunderbirds flight demonstration, you should go. I’ve seen both, and they are impressive.
The thought came to me easily: The Patton Museum. We’d been housebound for weeks, sheltered in place against the virus, and like many others we were suffering from an advanced case of cabin fever. Where can we go that won’t require flying, is reasonably close, and won’t put us in contact with too many people? Hey, I write travel articles for the best motorcycle magazine on the planet (that’s Motorcycle Classics) and I know all the good destinations around here. The Patton Museum. That’s the ticket.
General George S. Patton, Jr., and his faithful companion, Willie, at the General Patton Memorial Museum in Chiriaco Summit, California.
I called the Patton Museum and they were closed. An answering machine. The Pandemic. Please leave a message. So I did. And a day later I had a response from a pleasant-sounding woman. She would let me know when they opened again and she hoped we would visit. So I called and left another message. Big time motojournalist here. We’d like to do a piece on the Museum. You know the drill. The Press. Throwing the weight of the not-so-mainstream media around. Gresh and I do it all the time.
Margit and I finally connected after playing telephone tag. Yes, the Patton Museum was closed, but I could drive out to Chiriaco Summit to get a few photos (it’s on I-10 a cool 120 miles from where I live, and 70 miles from the Arizona border). Margit gave me her email address, and Chiriaco was part of it (you pronounce it “shuhRAYco”).
Wait a second, I thought, and I asked the question: “Is your name Chiriaco, as in Chiriaco Summit, where the Museum is located?”
“Yes, Joe Chiriaco was my father.”
This was going to be good, I instantly knew. And it was.
The story goes like this: Dial back the calendar nearly a century. In the late 1920s, the path across the Colorado, Sonoran, and Mojave Deserts from Arizona through California was just a little dirt road. It’s hard to imagine, but our mighty Interstate 10 was once a dirt road. A young Joe Chiriaco used it when he and a friend hitchhiked from Alabama to see a football game in California’s Rose Bowl in 1927.
Chiriaco stayed in California and joined a team in the late 1920s surveying a route for the aqueduct that would carry precious agua from the mighty Colorado River to Los Angeles. Chiriaco surveyed, he found natural springs in addition to a path for the aqueduct, and he recognized opportunity. That dirt road (Highways 60 and 70 in those early days) would soon be carrying more people from points east to the promised land (the Los Angeles basin). Shaver Summit (the high point along the road in the area he was surveying, now known as Chiriaco Summit) would be a good place to sell gasoline and food. He and his soon-to-be wife Ruth bought land, started a business and a family, and did well. It was a classic case of the right people, the right time, the right place, and the right work ethic. Read on, my friends. This gets even better.
Fast forward a decade into the late 1930s, and we were a nation preparing for war. A visionary US Army leader, General George S. Patton, Jr., knew from his World War I combat experience that armored vehicle warfare would define the future. It would start in North Africa, General Patton needed a place to train his newly-formed tank units, and the desert regions Chiriaco had surveyed were just what the doctor ordered.
Picture this: Two men who could see the future clearly. Joe Chiriaco and George S. Patton. Chiriaco was at the counter eating his lunch when someone tapped his shoulder to ask where he could find a guy named Joe Chiriaco. Imagine a response along the lines of “Who wants to know?” and when Chiriaco turned around to find out, there stood General Patton. Two legends, one local and one national, eyeball to eyeball, meeting for the first time.
A Sherman tank, the one Patton’s men would go to war with in North Africa and Europe, on display at the General Patton Memorial Museum.
Patton knew that Chiriaco knew the desert and he needed his help. The result? Camp Young (where Chiriaco Summit stands today), and the 18,000-square-mile Desert Training Center – California Arizona Maneuver Area (DTC-CAMA, where over one million men would learn armored warfare). It formed the foundation for Patton defeating Rommel in North Africa, our winning World War II, and more. It would be where thousands of Italian prisoners of war spent most of their time during the war. It would become the largest military area in America.
General Patton and Joe Chiriaco became friends and they enjoyed a mutually-beneficial relationship: Patton needed Chiriaco’s help and Chiriaco’s business provided a welcome respite for Patton’s troops. Patton kept Chiriaco’s gas station and lunch counter accessible to the troops, Chiriaco sold beer with Patton’s blessing, and as you can guess….well, you don’t have to guess: We won World War II.
World War II ended, the Desert Training Center closed, and then, during the Eisenhower administration, Interstate 10 followed the path of Highways 60 and 70. Patton’s troops and the POWs were gone and I-10 became the major east/west freeway across the US. We had become a nation on wheels and Chiriaco’s business continued to thrive as Americans took to the road with our newfound postwar prosperity.
Fast forward yet again: In the 1980s Margit (Joe and Ruth Chiriaco’s daughter) and Leslie Cone (the Bureau of Land Management director who oversaw the lands that had been Patton’s desert training area) had an idea: Create a museum honoring General Patton and the region’s contributions to World War II. Ronald Reagan heard about it and donated an M-47 Patton tank (the one you see in the large photo at the top of this blog), and things took off from there.
I first rode my motorcycle to the General Patton Memorial Museum in 2003 with my good buddy Marty. It was a small museum then, but it has grown substantially. When Sue and I visited a couple of weeks ago, I was shocked and surprised by what I saw. I can only partly convey some of it through the photos and narrative you see in this blog. We had a wonderful visit with Margit, who told us a bit about her family, the Museum, and Chiriaco Summit. On that topic of family, it was Joe and Ruth Chiriaco, Margit and her three siblings, their children, and their grandchildren. If you are keeping track, that’s four generations of Chiriacos.
The Chiriaco Summit story is an amazing one and learning about it can be reasonably compared to peeling an onion. There are many layers, and discovering each might bring a tear or two. Life hasn’t always been easy for the Chiriaco family out there in the desert, but they always saw the hard times as opportunities and they instinctively knew how to use each opportunity to add to their success. We can’t tell the entire story here, but we’ll give you a link to a book you might consider purchasing at the end of this blog. Our focus is on the General Patton Memorial Museum, and having said that, let’s get to the photos.
The Patton Museum’s new Matzner Tank Pavilion. When we were there, one of the two M60 tanks you see in front was running. If you think a motorcycle engine at idle makes music, you will love listening to an M60’s air-cooled, horizontally-opposed, 1790-cubic-inch, 12-cylinder diesel engine. I drove an M60 once when I was in the Army. Yeah, I still want one.The business end of an M60’s 105mm main gun. This one has been out of service for a long time; hence the rust. Firing one of these settles disagreements quickly.The M4 Sherman, our main battle tank in World War II, on the right, with an M5 Stuart tank on the left.Don’t tread on me, or so the saying goes. Everything on a tank is big. You don’t realize how big until you stand next to one.When Patton’s men trained at the DTC-CAMA, they used mockup aggressor vehicles (jeeps fitted with frames and canvas) to simulate the bad guys.M60 main battle tanks parked behind the Museum. This was a shot I could not resist. If Joe Gresh was into tanks, this is what Tinfiny Ranch would undoubtedly look like. The Patton name was attached to the M47, M48, and M60 tank series. I asked Margit about these tanks, and she told me that when the Museum raises enough money, they’ll be made operational and put on display. For now, Margit said, “they stand as silent ghosts with General Patton at the helm.” I like that.The General Patton Memorial Museum outdoor chapel. The chapel was built using desert rocks. If someone is looking for a unique wedding venue, this is it.
When I first visited the Patton Museum nearly 20 years ago, there were only three or four tanks on display. As you can see from the above photos, the armored vehicle display has grown dramatically.
Like the armored vehicle exhibits, the Museum interior has also expanded, and it has done so on a grand scale. In addition to the recently-built Matzner Tank Pavilion shown above, the exhibits inside are far more extensive than when I first visited. Sue and I had the run of the Museum, and I was able to get some great photos. The indoor exhibits are stunning, starting with the nearly 100-year-old topo map that dominates the entrance.
The Metropolitan Water District’s scale map of southern California, Arizona, and Nevada. MWD brought this model to the US Congress in 1927 to secure funding for the California Aqueduct, then they stored and forgot about it for decades. An MWD executive overhead Margit talking about the planned Patton Museum in the Chiriaco Summit coffee shop one day, he remembered the map, and one thing led to another. MWD donated the map to the Patton Museum in 1988. The Big Map (as it is known) covers the area used by Patton’s Desert Training Center and the California Arizona Maneuver Area. It’s a visually-arresting display that is truly something special.Generals Patton and Rommel, the two key players in North Africa. If you’ve never seen the movie, Patton, you need to fix that oversight. It is a great movie.George S. Patton: The early years. Patton attended the Virginia Military Institute and the United States Military Academy at West Point. His family was from San Marino, California. Patton was born into wealth and could have done whatever he wanted. He chose a career in the US Army.One of the display rooms inside the Patton Museum. I could have spent the entire day in just this room. That’s an A-10 Warthog model in the foreground. It’s the airplane we used to take out Iraq’s Republican Guard tanks in Operation Desert Storm. I worked for the company that manufactured the A-10’s 30mm Gatling Gun ammo and Combined Effects Munitions cluster bombs that did most of the heavy lifting in that war.Another view inside the Patton Museum. A tripod, a Nikon, a wide angle lens, and having the room to myself. It was a grand day.A model of Patton’s command vehicle. Patton lived in a trailer and moved with his troops during most of World War II, unlike other US generals who mostly stayed in hotels. Patton was an RVer before there were RVs.The Patton Museum has an extensive World War II small arms display. I could have spent half a day just viewing this part of the Museum. I’ll be back.The Patton Museum’s small arms display included this beautiful Model 1917 Colt .45 ACP revolver. Most of the surviving specimens you see today (when you see them at all; they are not very common) have a Parkerized finish. This one has the original blued finish. I own a Colt 1917; mine has the original finish, too. There’s quite a story behind these revolvers.A beautiful British Infantry Lee Enfield No. 4 rifle. I grabbed a photo of this one because it had an unusually attractive stock, something you don’t often see on infantry rifles.A replica of General Patton’s ivory-handled Colt Single Action Army revolver. Patton carried different sidearms during World War II, including this Colt SAA and a Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum (also equipped with ivory grips). Patton’s Colt SAA had two notches carved in the left grip. Then Lieutenant Patton was part of the Pershing expedition that chased Pancho Villa in Mexico from Fort Bliss (my old stomping grounds). Patton personally killed two men in a gunfight during that action. There’s no doubt about it: Patton was the real deal, a genuine warrior.
In addition to the General Patton Memorial Museum, there are several businesses the Chiriaco family operates at Chiriaco Summit, and the reach of this impressive family is four generations deep. As we mentioned earlier, it’s a story that can’t be told in a single article, but Margit was kind enough to give us a copy of Chiriaco Summit, a book that tells it better than I ever could. You should buy a copy. It’s a great read about a great family and a great place.
I enjoyed Chiriaco Summit immensely. That’s Joe Chiriaco in the lower left photo, and Ruth Chiriaco in the upper right inset. Margit Chiriaco Rusche, their daughter, is seated in the 1928 Model A. Fourth-generation Victor (whom we met) runs a vintage car header company at Chiriaco Summit. Victor is the young man standing behind Margit.
So there you have it: The General Patton Memorial Museum and Chiriaco Summit. It’s three hours east of Los Angeles on Interstate 10 and it’s a marvelous destination. Keep an eye on the Patton Museum website, and when the pandemic is finally in our rear view mirrors, you’ll want to visit this magnificent California desert jewel.
