Some friends of mine get together every few weeks at someone's house for an afternoon of work and a party. It gets those "Aw, I'll get to it next week" projects done and we have some fun doing it.
Last weekend stacking my firewood was the project and I advertised a frontier frolic - flintlock shooting and tomahawk throwing. That caused much excitement.
After the wood was stacked I got out my tomahawk and stuck it in the target a couple of times as a demo, and then let everyone take a throw. Quite a few people managed to stick it.
Then I pulled out my flint and steel kit to start the barbecue. A friend said, "We'd like to eat today, ok?" I managed it in about twenty seconds, but there were no takers to try to reproduce this. While the charcoal was getting going I brought out my flintlock (plus safety glasses and hearing protectors) and took some people out back to give it a try.
I measured light loads - 60 grains - so as not to startle anybody. Most of them had either never or hardly ever shot a firearm. I did all the loading and stood right there to talk them through it. We shot at 25 yards. I (luckily) popped one in the center ring first. (Usually I need a fouling shot) About half a dozen people gave it a try. One friend of mine, who happens to be writing a book on early Vermont history, put one in the center ring right next to mine. We all started singing the Davy Crockett theme. His 12 year old son gave it a try and sent a couple off into the backstop somewhere, but he was happy anyway.
A few people got it on the paper. A friend of mine who is a very experienced shooter of modern firearms put one in at 9 o'clock and marveled at the speed of the action and the beautiful light/crisp pull of the double set trigger. He said it was faster than a caplock revolver he once shot. I guess he was expecting a delay like a traffic light.
One neighbor who was there and shot pretty well told his teenaged son, who is now hot to come over and try it out.
Anyway, I spread the flintlock word and raised a little black powder consciousness. Something to think about when surrounded by all the familiar faces at the range.
