A hesitation here.
A snag there.
Then nothing for a while.
Again, a hesitation.
"Honey, here, shoot this, it's not right."
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Babe, there's nothing wrong with it."
Okay, maybe I'm crazy.
Then, nothing. A perfect run through ten rounds.
Suddenly, she quits going into battery.
Slam! The base of my palm hits the back of her slide and she chambers the round.
Slam! Again, the base of my palm hits the back of her slide and she chambers the round.
More frequent. Bang! Slam! Bang! Slam! Bang! Slam! Slam! "Damn!" Slam! Bang!
"Maybe it's your magazines."
"How long's it been since you cleaned your gun?"
"Maybe it's your recoil spring."
"Maybe you're limp-wristing it."
So I cleaned my magazines.
And I cleaned my gun.
She won't chamber a round. Can't be the magazines - they're spit-shined.
Can't be she's dirty - she's been spit-shined.
Off to the gunsmith we go. Maybe a new recoil spring. Who knows?
"Boss, she's not playing nice."
"How's she not playing nice."
"She won't go into battery. I've cleaned the magazines. I've cleaned her. She still won't go into battery. She's not playing nice."
"Let me see." A quick function test. A grimace. "Who's been in your gun?"
"Your trigger's all jacked up. Where's your sear?"
"What do you mean, where's my sear?"
"Didn't you notice it was missing when you were resetting your trigger?"
"I thought I was imagining it."
"No. It's not there."
"I'm not imagining it?"
"No. It's not there."
A wave of relief. It wasn't my imagination. She has been acting up.
Off to the
Exploratory surgery reveals a lot of little problems. A hook on the extractor - file it off. Sear spring out of shape - re-shape it. Compressed spring here - replace it. Nasty crud there - scrape it off. Boss Man's big hands moving smoothly and surely, nip and tuck. Pretty soon she's reassembled and sparkling clean.
Boss Man, "How's this feel?"
"A little heavy."
"Want me to lighten it up?"
"Yeah, she was set to 2 3/4 pounds before. This is heavier."
Measured out to be over three pounds. Still a light trigger, but heavier that she used to be.
A quick adjustment, "try this."
Into the trap...Bang! Bang! Bang! *Big grin* Bang! Bang! Bang!
No slapping the rear of the slide.
I love my gun.