The End of an Age

This wind, it was not the ending. There are no endings, and never will be endings, to the turning of the Wheel of Time.

But it was an ending.
- from A Memory of Light, by Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson

And, so, my reading quest—an age lasting about 18 years—comes to its conclusion and a new one stands ready to begin...

I came rather late to the series, having been first introduced to it in the fall of 1994. I'd just permanently moved to Southeast Alaska that July and was employed for the winter by the local bookseller. Book 6, Lord of Chaos, had just been released in hardcover and the locals were going nuts trying to get copies, even going so far as to come by everyday to note who had not yet picked-up their special orders and trying to convince me that it never would be and I should sell it to them instead.

Hah, nice try. Cripes, the extent that people would go over a freaking book! I was and still am a near fanatical reader; however, no book should be that important. Should it?

Having a slow afternoon, one shift at the downtown store, I grabbed a copy of Book 1, Eye of the World, in order to see what all the fuss was about...

It was quickly thrown onto my already large employee account and I was off and running, not unlike Rand, Perrin, Matt, Egwene, and Nynaeve fleeing Emonds Field. I devoured Eye of the World, was swept along on The Great Hunt, and held my breath for The Dragon Reborn. Rare sunny summer afternoons were spent in parks reading The Shadow Rising, trying desperately, like Rand, to understand the Aiel culture and witnessing Perrin's resistant rise to lordhood, while Tulip tried to comprehend my own fanaticism for a rather large book. I felt that I fought the Shaido alongside Mat in The Fires of Heaven and was awestruck by the Lord of Chaos before it'd even made it to paperback.

And, then came the waiting...

Two whole years for A Crown of Swords. When I received it, I thought the cover a cheesy ad for that video game, Street Fighter. Yep, it is possible to judge a book by its cover. It did, however, begin to introduce me to the madness of channeling Saidin and handling the filth of its taint. Over and over and over again (with 2-3 years between each book), it would be described throughout The Path of Daggers and Winter's Heart until I felt I'd burn out from it; that is, until that satisfying ending of Rand and Nynaeve cleansing Saidin at the conclusion of Winter's Heart. There was hope again!

And, then we spend the better part of 100 pages of prologue to Crossroads of Twilight describing how multiple people experienced the cleansing from different points around the world. And, I despaired. In hindsight, I have to wonder how much of this was due to the onset of Jordan's illness? By the time Knife of Dreams was released, I was sick of continually relearning how the Sea Folk would stand to show their social ranking and was especially ready to smack Perrin Aybara except that the story was finally beginning to move again. I wondered if I could handle reading anymore; however, Irish obstinacy won out and I vowed to finish this journey no matter what (wish I could say the same for A Song of Ice and Fire—I'm not sure which I'm more sick of: the series or Martin's political yapping).

I wondered if he was going to end this quest with a whimper as he spun so many threads out from the main pattern of the plot. I resolved to hold a nice bonfire if he ever did.

I again despaired for Jordan and his readers with his announcement of his diagnosis of cardiac amyloidosis in 2006. The despair turned to hopelessness at his passing and I didn't hold much hope for a new writer picking the series up. I was even less happy to find out that the planned conclusion, A Memory of Light, was to be broken into 3 books.

Still, I set myself to face The Gathering Storm while traveling to Fairbanks and Anchorage for business. That first prologue written by Sanderson was devoured while eating dinner at one of the small restaurants attached to the Captain Cooke Hotel. And, I was once again awestruck with the series as Sanderson began to move the story forward at an engrossing pace and more than satisfactorily began to re-weave all the loose threads back into the pattern to take us through the storm, into the Towers of Midnight, and out to regain A Memory of Light. It was an incredibly satisfying conclusion and I'm not afraid to admit that I actually found myself tearing-up as I realized I was at the final 3 pages last night...

If they weren't such distinctly individual stories, I guess I could count all of the various Robert B. Parker (can't be from Massachusetts and not appreciate Spenser) and Ed McBain books as something similarly epic; however, I can't quite go that far. The Wheel of Time has been engrossing and infuriating and such a thread within the fabric of my adult life that I have to say that, with maybe the experience of Stephen King's Dark Tower series, nothing else has compared in my literary experiences. Even Roland's quest, with its disjointed bizarreness stemming from the collision of fictional worlds within King's creative mind (and, yes, that's what I see the Dark Tower as—the nexus of his alternate realities) was a spark compared to the overall brilliance (of light and thought) of the Wheel of Time in all its slogging yet enthralling grandiosity.

No adventure, quest, or saga is ever experienced by our heroes without hating it all as it unfolds. It is at its completion that we can look back with fondness, humor, or even thankfulness. The Wheel of Time has proven no different and I regret not one single moment of it.

Thank you, Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson for spinning us into this pattern as the Wheel turns.

Hobbit Haiku

I.
Grand, beautiful scenes
Big changes not detracting
Worth the movie price

II.
Riddles in the dark
Andy Serkis is Gollum
Awards yet denied

III.
Waiting for decades
My glad inner seven-year-old
Will see with Tulip

Gun Testing and Assessment (T&A): Ruger American

Yes, choosing to title such a post as “Gun Training & Assessment” was rather audaciously tongue-in-cheek with the T&A acronym; however, you can’t fault a gun enthusiast for his excitement over the opportunity to play with a new toy. And, this has been a surprising toy, indeed.


Being a firm Remington 700 man, I’d always rather pooh-poohed this latest trend in “value-priced” (i.e., my interpretation of being rather chintzy) rifles, with my earliest explorations limited to brief handlings off the rack at the local dealer. These circumscribed investigations evoked a very critical reaction from me that these rifles were visually unappealing and worked with “plasticy”-feeling actions that I would not trust to either the harsh, salty conditions of Southeast Alaska or feel confident with should an Admiralty Island sojourn include a closer than preferred encounter with one of its famous bears. 


Having packed a magnum for the better part of my years up here, shoulder punishment at the bench, the growing cost of ammunition, and just plain-old overkill with regards to hunting diminutive Sitka black-tailed deer reignited my interest in a rifle in .30-06. Unfortunately, the same capital limitation impacting my ability to purchase high-priced ammunition also limited my options for another rifle. The thought of selling my Model 700 was a non-starter. I’d just reconciled myself to “value-priced” lines when one of my shooting buddies began to tell me about Ruger’s new offering into this line with the model 0691 American (MSRP $449). As I’m a new FFL, his early impressions sparked my interest for a possible affordable rifle to carry and I thought this might make for a great inaugural review of a product.


At the Office:
The rifle arrived well-wrapped in plastic in a patriotically colorful cardboard box whose only significant padding was a foam block at the end of the barrel. The bolt was in a separate compartment, contained within its own box.

 And, of course, there was the ever-present Ruger padlock. 

My initial reaction after removing the rifle from its box and plastic was that it had sleek lines and was far more aesthetically pleasing than either its earlier Remington 710 (now discontinued in favor of the Model 770) or current Savage Axis cousins. Overall, the finish on the metal looked good and could be found both inside and outside the receiver; however, the bolt was left in the white.

The black plastic stock had rather elegant, petite lines with a fore stock swell that made for a comfortable grip by the support hand. The stock was mostly smooth with molded groves and pebbled texturing in both the fore stock and pistol grip, which was capped in the Ruger emblem. The trigger guard was a plastic extension of the stock; however, the sling studs were tapped into the stock instead of molded extensions found on other rifles. Closer examination of the stock revealed rather uneven fit of the butt to the ¾-inch thick soft rubber recoil pad, with a very noticeable chip in the plastic, which took my overall assessment of quality down a little.

The rifle came without sights, mounted with Weaver #46 bases, and an offer for a free cheekpad from Ruger when registering the rifle online. This pad was promoted on their website as making “making you a better shooter by allowing a solid "cheek weld" while aligning your line of sight with the optic mounted on your rifle. Cheekpads will reduce perceived recoil, making shooting more comfortable.” This would be explored later…


Having always chafed at the non-detachable magazines of most Model 700s, I was immediately drawn to the detachable, four-round, rotary magazine of the American. One came with the rifle and it fitted snugly into the stock and was easily removed by depressing a simple latch at the front of the magazine. I was concerned by the possibility of a polymer magazine prematurely wearing-out when compared to metal ones. On the other hand, it could prove much quieter in the woods when compared to the rattling metal monstrosities used with an old Remington Model 742 that I used to hunt with. When removed, the magazine loaded easily with snap-caps by inserting the dummy cartridges butt-first, at a 30-degree angle, from a point halfway down the magazine’s length.


Moving the initial review along, the three-lug bolt is a push-feed, with a plunger ejector, and the action was workable even with the tang safety engaged. It slid within the action without that cheap, “plasticy” feel I’d experienced handling similar rifles off the rack. It was easily removed by depressing a lever on the back, left side of the receiver and sliding the bolt back. The barrel sported a recessed crown, free-floated nicely with the stock and is secured to the stock via two hex screws, located just in front of the trigger guard and magazine well, and anchoring through v-shaped, steel, integral bedding blocks that align into grooves on the underside of the action. The barrel and action are easily removed, which is important as this is the only access to the set-screw used to adjust the pull on the Ruger Marksman adjustable trigger.


Ruger lists the trigger as being adjustable from 3-5 pounds. Testing with my Wheeler Trigger Pull Scale, the trigger broke cleanly right at 4.25 pounds, out of the box. This was a nice change from the 6-plus pounds required for my Model 700. I decided to continue the evaluation with the trigger as is, a decision that I was very happy with once taking it to the range. 


Shouldering and test-working the action of the rifle during my initial review, the soft rubber recoil pad didn’t interfere in any way with bringing the 6-pound rifle to my shoulder and the rifle was a dream in coming to my shoulder and aligning perfectly for this potential shooter. The tang safety is conveniently located and although I harbored some biased doubts, it didn’t seem to interfere with handling the rifle. Although it allows for more intuitive access by the thumb of the shooting hand, it does require a bit of force to disengage.  This could be seen two ways, in that it’s not easy to accidentally disengage while handling but could prove difficult in requiring a quick shot (e.g., that bear decides he doesn’t want to walk the other way). Initial workings of the safety and action while on the shoulder required a bit more pressure than I was used to for closing the action over snap-caps. Likewise, raising the bolt and re-cocking the action required a bit of force. My guess was that some of this would improve with sufficient handling and breaking-in, which I continued to do and prove at the office.


Gearing-up to shoot, I mounted an old Leupold 2-7x compact that I’ve had for a number of years and used on multiple firearms. I planned on shooting 180-grain Remington Core Lokt pointed soft-points for my testing. Unfortunately, I had still not received the new boresighter I’d ordered as I prepared to head to the range and would have to sight in through pure brute force and extra ammo. 

On the Bench: 
Here’s where this little rifle would have shined from moment one, had technical issues with my chosen scope not intervened.


Having played with cheap scopes as a naïve teenager, one thing I am adamant about is that you may have a cheap firearm but you absolutely can’t have a cheap scope. You get what you paid for and this could prove fatal under the wrong circumstances in the country up here. That said, it finally happened, I had a Leupold scope fail. For disclosure, you could say that this scope has been ridden hard and put-away wet over its 18 years of life. 


My first shots confirmed that yes, this lightweight, little rifle was going to make me appreciate its recoil pad and, most importantly, the trigger was simply awesome! As far as the recoil goes and, much to the chagrin of my significant other, I jokingly decided to name the rifle after our border collie as it’s little, cute, and rather ferocious.


I set my target up at 25 yards for initial zeroing and the first shots were approximately 4 inches left and 6 inches high. Adjusting the scope, I found that the windage adjustment had seized. Not willing to waste a good range session, I found the Kentucky-windage and decided to still have a little fun. 


And, what fun it was! Granted, it was only 25 yards off the bench, but she drove tacks, with 3-shot groups coming out at less than half an inch. My vaunted Model 700 has never shot so tight—even off the bench at 25 yards. She shot about as good free-hand as on the bench and I believe the trigger played a huge role in this. It broke easily, almost as a surprise at each shot I took. The live cartridges fed and cycled easily and the bolt did not feel as stiff as back at the office. I felt that the cheekpad was all that Ruger promised.

Back at the office, I swapped-out the failed scope for a new Leopold VX-R 1.25-4x Hog with the “Pig Plex” reticles and boresighted with the Aimshot laser system. I found I really liked the wide field of view, long eye relief, and visibility of this new style of reticle.


Back on the bench, she repeated her tack-driving out to 50 and 75 yards, with groups only opening-up when I began shooting free-hand. Between the two range sessions, I put 40 rounds through her and she fed smoothly and flawlessly. 


As my hunting shots are typically at less than 100 yards, I only performed a cursory check for point-of-impact from the bench for 100 yards. And, yes, I should know better. It was something I would regret in a couple of weeks when I took the rifle over to Admiralty Island for a deer hunting trip.

In the Field:
She was my primary rifle for a 5-day deer hunting trip over to Admiralty Cove, in the Kootznoowoo Wilderness.

Over there, she carried well, her light weight being easy on the arms and shoulders; however, I was a little put-off by the tang safety. In bear country, I don’t carry on an empty chamber and I sure as hell won’t carry a rifle slung on my shoulder where it’s useless in a sudden situation. I still found myself as constantly paranoid over inadvertently bumping the safety as I’d initially feared back at the office. Having been a Model 700 man for a lot of years, I have a comfortable two-handed carry in bear country where my trigger finger lays alongside the stock and my thumb always rests on the front of the safety, always ensuring it’s engaged. I can reverse this situation and have the rifle to my shoulder in a pinch, should it be needed. 


Packing around, I found it carried well tucked into the crook of my support arm. Most often, I found myself carrying it in my shooting hand, with my palm along the action and my fingers curling around over the magazine. It carried beautifully using this method. I’d asked Fishing Buddy, also another aficionado of the Model 700, to try carrying it for a while and he pretty much concurred with my carry methods.


The magazine proved as quiet as I’d anticipated and I liked the fact that, back at camp, I could easily unload her without the numb fingered drop of releasing a Model 700’s floor plate. I also liked that I had a quick back-up in my pocket through a loaded, additional magazine.


I’m rather ashamed of the last part of my current experience with this rifle as the sole opportunity I had to fire it on the trip was one of those rare (at least for me) circumstances where I found myself shooting at a walking deer out at 200 yards. I can’t fault the accuracy of the rifle for coming home with nothing. I can fault the shooter for not having practiced with it at such a distance and found, having not sufficiently worked out the best use of the “Pig Plex” hash marks, that my ability to properly lead the moving deer was sorely lacking. 

In Summary:
I’ve got to admit that I am a happy convert to the Ruger American and intend to carry it through my business and recommend it to potential customers. As a value priced rifle available in ubiquitous deer hunting calibers (.243 Win, .270 Win, .30-06, and .308 Win), it’ll make for a great starter rifle. It’s also none too shabby for the sourdoughs and I’m looking forward to working-up hand loads over the off-season. I’m especially looking forward to a lot of range time with it in order to improve my long distance shooting at the same time.