By mid afternoon I was firing the first shots with my new Mauser M03 barrel in 243 Winchester. I'd found some 100gn Speer Grand Slam projectiles at a local shop and the first hand-load made it onto the edge of the card. As expected the 40gn charge of 2209 was a light to medium load. Another helped me adjust the sights, back a bit, then three for a group. They went into 21mm at 100m. Pretty good for the first group, with loads that were virtually thrown together. I'm still waiting for the Wilson bullet seating die for the 243, so these bullets were tapped in using a seating stem stolen from an RCBS 220 Swift die. My kids watched and called it MacGyver style!
With the testing done, I went for a good walk with my M03 270 Winchester, then sat with my Landcruiser at dusk, at the bottom of a long broad valley. The south facing slope was lush and green, with patches of clipped grass and bracken. The north facing slope behind was more dry and bare up the top. Every now and then I turned 360 degrees with my binoculars. On one such sweep I whispered as the scene panned past my eyes. "Flock of sheep. Flock of sheep. Another flock of sheep. A flock of black sheep. More sheep, white ones this time" What? Black sheep? Look again. They're pigs!
Out with the 270 and a sandbag, over the hood of the Landcruiser. Wait a moment for the pigs to move clear of the sheep. Range - 230m. Bang. First one down. They're running left and right along the fence on the ridge top. Three are trying to get through a hole in the wire mesh. Bang. Second one down.
I found another up on the top of the hill where he was looking for his friends. Three down.
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Regards, Rick.