Watchdog
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I had a buddy once. We'd met briefly at a party at a friend's apartment back in '69 while I was home on leave from this place I was so glad to get away from. Something clicked between us, and we kept in touch over the next year while I rode out my last year with Uncle Sam.
We got together a lot after that. Became fast friends. Our girlfriends and future wives got along great. My buddy and I had discovered we had a lot in common. We both liked fast cars, nice clothes, pretty girls, beer, films, and Mexican food (the spicier, the better). More importantly, we both liked Old Model Ruger single-actions, spaghetti westerns, camping and hiking in our beautiful North Carolina mountains, and hunting. We liked Old West history and vintage photographs. Yeah, I hunted back then, but I wasn't all that dedicated to it, and I no longer do it. But we watched the Leone films until we had lines memorized. We saw The Wild Bunch so many times, I even learned some rudimentary Spanish just so I could tell what the Mexicans were saying. And we wanted to be Butch Cassidy and Harry Longabaugh.
We built a shooting range in the woods out behind his house. We loaded and reloaded our own ammo...we spent weekends loading and shooting while our girlfriends shopped and did girl stuff. We were pretty much inseparable back then.
Our heroes were Keith, Skelton, Askins, O'Connor, and even George Nonte (remember him?). We didn't care much for Jeff Cooper then, but that did come later. We read books on the Old West and did quick draw stuff with our Rugers and wax bullets.
We both bought the same Rugers. The Old Model .357s and we bought our Super Blackhawks on the same day at the same place. And we were thrilled when Ruger came out with the Blackhawk in .45 Colt! Just had to have one of those, too.
About '74 or '75, we'd heard you could hunt wild boar with handguns up at this place in Tennessee. I think we'd read about it in Guns & Ammo.
So I loaded up some stupid hot loads for our .44s, and off we went to the mountains of Tennessee. I honestly can't remember how I did those loads...all I remember is that I used some sort of Speer hollowpoint and a dangerous amount of 2400. I do remember I only loaded twelve of the things to take with us...six for me, six for my buddy. They were not pleasant to shoot.
It was so cold on the day of the hunt, the shutter in my camera froze up. I warmed it up inside my coat and managed to get just four shots of the hunt.
My scanner's broken, so I can't post the photos here. But I got my boar with my .44 at approximately 60 yards, a one-shot kill. It had to have been pure luck, cause I was so winded (beer and cigarettes are not a good mixture to train on) from running up the side of that damn mountain, I could hardly hold the gun steady. The guy I was with...guess you could call him my "guide"...kept whispering, "Shoot 'im, shoot that hog! What you waitin' on!" I wanted to whop that ol' boy up side his head with that seven-and-a-half-inch barrel, I tell you what, cause that pig must've heard him and started to run. He was about three steps from a dead run when I got him.
Oh, and it really is true that when you're all excited and cranked up with adrenaline, you don't hear the shot. If I was stupid enough to fire that load today (never mind that I wouldn't even make that load today) without ear protection, I'd probably destroy what's left of my hearing.
Anyway, I carried my Ruger back then in a Safariland rig exactly like this one. I'd special ordered it, and carried it everywhere...up and down the Blue Ridge, all through Pisgah National Forest, and down into Linville Gorge. Back then, you could specify the number of cartridge loops and get the holster to fit the belt exactly instead of the more common practice of using the fold-over belt loop with the strap and buckle. The holster and belt were suede-lined, just like this one. Over a year or so ago, I decided I wanted to recreate my old Safariland rig. It took me a good while to find this belt and holster in this condition. All the holsters I found were the fold-over loop kind, and they had the retention strap instead of the hammer thong like my old one had...and the belts in my size with cartridge loops were extremely hard to find. I'd been looking on and off for this belt for over a year. Finally found the holster right here on this forum, and stumbled across the belt, minus its buckle, in a box at a flea market. My hunt was over. My .44 back then didn't have the factory brass grip frame like this one, but this is the same pair of old Jay Scott grips that were on it in '75.
So to sort of wind down this little story, I put some stuff from the seventies together and made this photograph to sort of stay in touch with my past. I'd been turning this composition over and over in my head for as long as I'd been hunting the belt and holster. If you were interested in old Rugers back then and liked outdoor stuff and shooting and cowboy movies, then maybe this photo will bring back some good memories of your own bygone days.
This photograph is also sort of an "In Memorium" photograph.
My friend Chris is gone, having passed away several years ago. It feels really strange to have outlived him.
"The Belle of the Ranch" cowgirl photograph on the vintage postcard is copyright 1908 by George B. Cornish of Arkansas City, Kansas
We got together a lot after that. Became fast friends. Our girlfriends and future wives got along great. My buddy and I had discovered we had a lot in common. We both liked fast cars, nice clothes, pretty girls, beer, films, and Mexican food (the spicier, the better). More importantly, we both liked Old Model Ruger single-actions, spaghetti westerns, camping and hiking in our beautiful North Carolina mountains, and hunting. We liked Old West history and vintage photographs. Yeah, I hunted back then, but I wasn't all that dedicated to it, and I no longer do it. But we watched the Leone films until we had lines memorized. We saw The Wild Bunch so many times, I even learned some rudimentary Spanish just so I could tell what the Mexicans were saying. And we wanted to be Butch Cassidy and Harry Longabaugh.
We built a shooting range in the woods out behind his house. We loaded and reloaded our own ammo...we spent weekends loading and shooting while our girlfriends shopped and did girl stuff. We were pretty much inseparable back then.
Our heroes were Keith, Skelton, Askins, O'Connor, and even George Nonte (remember him?). We didn't care much for Jeff Cooper then, but that did come later. We read books on the Old West and did quick draw stuff with our Rugers and wax bullets.
We both bought the same Rugers. The Old Model .357s and we bought our Super Blackhawks on the same day at the same place. And we were thrilled when Ruger came out with the Blackhawk in .45 Colt! Just had to have one of those, too.
About '74 or '75, we'd heard you could hunt wild boar with handguns up at this place in Tennessee. I think we'd read about it in Guns & Ammo.
So I loaded up some stupid hot loads for our .44s, and off we went to the mountains of Tennessee. I honestly can't remember how I did those loads...all I remember is that I used some sort of Speer hollowpoint and a dangerous amount of 2400. I do remember I only loaded twelve of the things to take with us...six for me, six for my buddy. They were not pleasant to shoot.
It was so cold on the day of the hunt, the shutter in my camera froze up. I warmed it up inside my coat and managed to get just four shots of the hunt.
My scanner's broken, so I can't post the photos here. But I got my boar with my .44 at approximately 60 yards, a one-shot kill. It had to have been pure luck, cause I was so winded (beer and cigarettes are not a good mixture to train on) from running up the side of that damn mountain, I could hardly hold the gun steady. The guy I was with...guess you could call him my "guide"...kept whispering, "Shoot 'im, shoot that hog! What you waitin' on!" I wanted to whop that ol' boy up side his head with that seven-and-a-half-inch barrel, I tell you what, cause that pig must've heard him and started to run. He was about three steps from a dead run when I got him.
Oh, and it really is true that when you're all excited and cranked up with adrenaline, you don't hear the shot. If I was stupid enough to fire that load today (never mind that I wouldn't even make that load today) without ear protection, I'd probably destroy what's left of my hearing.
Anyway, I carried my Ruger back then in a Safariland rig exactly like this one. I'd special ordered it, and carried it everywhere...up and down the Blue Ridge, all through Pisgah National Forest, and down into Linville Gorge. Back then, you could specify the number of cartridge loops and get the holster to fit the belt exactly instead of the more common practice of using the fold-over belt loop with the strap and buckle. The holster and belt were suede-lined, just like this one. Over a year or so ago, I decided I wanted to recreate my old Safariland rig. It took me a good while to find this belt and holster in this condition. All the holsters I found were the fold-over loop kind, and they had the retention strap instead of the hammer thong like my old one had...and the belts in my size with cartridge loops were extremely hard to find. I'd been looking on and off for this belt for over a year. Finally found the holster right here on this forum, and stumbled across the belt, minus its buckle, in a box at a flea market. My hunt was over. My .44 back then didn't have the factory brass grip frame like this one, but this is the same pair of old Jay Scott grips that were on it in '75.
So to sort of wind down this little story, I put some stuff from the seventies together and made this photograph to sort of stay in touch with my past. I'd been turning this composition over and over in my head for as long as I'd been hunting the belt and holster. If you were interested in old Rugers back then and liked outdoor stuff and shooting and cowboy movies, then maybe this photo will bring back some good memories of your own bygone days.
This photograph is also sort of an "In Memorium" photograph.
My friend Chris is gone, having passed away several years ago. It feels really strange to have outlived him.
"The Belle of the Ranch" cowgirl photograph on the vintage postcard is copyright 1908 by George B. Cornish of Arkansas City, Kansas
