It’s good to be lucky
I was somewhat stunned when I first saw her sitting there on the table. After all, we were at a small gun show that had, in the past, never yielded anything more interesting than some old shot shell boxes. Still, undeniably, I was in the presence of royalty.
Unhesitating, I asked the merchant for permission to touch her majesty. The audacity!! I know. But, I simply had to look closer and see if she really was in the amazing condition she first appeared to be. “Of course”, came the reply. “Otherwise, how will you bond with her?” he grinned.
Indeed, she was glorious. Her metal, though nearly flawless, gave a hint of her many and varied adventures. Her stocks were at once both lithe and full-figured, as they were when she was young and the object of the fascination and the admiration of all the young courtiers. In a sense, it was sad to see her now – unrecognized and unwanted. How many had passed her by without a thought to how she might spend years in a dark and dusty repose?
But how could this be? Her price, after all, was modest. Low enough, in fact, that it immediately made one suspicious. How could anyone offer her up so cheaply? Surely she must have a hideous scar hiding on the other side? But no, no matter how closely I examined her, she gave not a hint but of her regal upbringing.
Gently, reluctantly, I set her down. My companion and I walked a short distance, then stopped to see if we could make some sense of what we had just seen. No matter how we tried, we couldn’t quite fathom how anyone could offer up for such a reasonable price a W.W. Greener 12 bore grade ‘M’ in excellent condition.
The rest of the show did nothing to break the chain of thoughts that was racing through my mind. I barely knew her, but I lusted for her. How could I be so smitten? Something wasn’t right. The price was too low. Warning bells were ringing in my head, but in my infatuated state, they sounded more like wedding bells.
I barely slept that night. The thought of someone else touching her, going on long walks in the woods, fingering her triggers, caused a knot in the pit of my stomach. We shared a mutual destiny. I was a fool not to have seen that.
I was standing at the doors when they opened the next morning. I rushed to her table in a sweat at the prospect that she might be gone. To my immense relief, she was as I had found her. Alone. Unwanted.
I waited until the merchant appeared and made the necessary arrangements to take her home with me. For days afterward I marveled at how light and responsive she is; how her stately lines and immaculate fit and finish serve, not to compromise her noble purpose, but to enhance it.
But, more than anything, I felt privileged to be holding in my hands, a gun that W.W. Greener himself made by hand in his shop. This very gun was built on the ‘facile princeps’ pattern that he developed to compete against Anson and Deeley’s patented box lock – a pattern that was exonerated in a bitter patent infringement lawsuit.
Greener’s guns have a well-deserved reputation for high quality workmanship. His work is particularly respected because, more than anyone, he perfected the concept of using barrel constriction to “choke” the shot stream and produce superior patterns. His exhaustive work on the subject won his guns top prizes in pattern density, distribution, and shot penetration at the historic London Gun Trials.
His Greener Cross Bolt has been imitated by all the best gun makers. And, his distinctive side safety is both clever and functional.
Under the hood
I purchased the Greener in February. Circumstances conspired and I never got a chance to fire the gun for several months. One day I decided to slip a couple of snap caps into the breech and see how much zing remains in the ejectors. The gun was made in 1901, I reasoned, they could be getting a little spongy by now. Sure enough – the right barrel ejector worked perfectly, the left barrel, not at all.
At this point, you may be thinking “Aha!! That’s why the price was unexpectedly low.”
You may be right. But, even if I had known about the ejector, I would STILL have found the price quite reasonable. Even so, having a limp ejector did take some wind from my sails.
After dwelling in the slight disappointment for a time, I resolved to do something about it. So, I removed the fore end and tried to imagine how the thing comes apart. The big screw in the middle of the fore end iron seemed like the place to start, but I couldn’t find a proper turn screw to fit it and under no circumstances was I going to take a chance of butchering the screws on such a fine piece.
Consequently, I discussed the problem with my close friend, a fellow GunNutz. He had one with a blade that needed only a slight touch up on a grindstone to make it fit perfectly. As can be expected, though, Greener fore end disassembly is not as straightforward as one would wish. We fussed with it for a time, thought better of it, and eventually drifted to other topics.
Then came last night
Last night, we went out to celebrate an unrelated accomplishment. By the time the cork escaped from the third bottle of wine, we found ourselves in an adventurous mood and facing the Greener fore end. With the uninhibited zeal and complete abandon of the alcohol-fueled, we proceeded to tackle the untold mysteries of the Greener ejector system.
At this point, I owe each of you a heart-felt apology. Surely it must have been the wine that made us oblivious to our responsibility to document the process in pictures. But, alas, we failed miserably in that regard.
The trials and tribulations were many. With immense care, we gently coaxed the fore end iron away from the walnut and, ultimately, into it’s component pieces. Even completely disassembled, though, we could find no reason for the malfunction. So, we decided to polish, clean, and lubricate all the pieces.
The Greener ejector system employs a curious double coil spring system. We speculated at what the purpose for this might be. Sharptail suggested that the weaker spring might operate the extractors and the stronger, the ejectors. I believe he was exactly correct in this theory. More importantly, it was while considering this theory that I noticed what had previously escaped us both – the springs were not placed on the ejector shafts in the same order. Could this possibly be the only thing wrong with the ejector?!!?
By the time I made it home, it was 2:00 A.M. I was up an additional hour trying to figure out why, after our little “repair”, the fore end no longer fit my Greener. Eventually, my sleep-deprived brain realized that the ejectors needed to be cocked before the fore end could be repositioned.
All in all, it was an incredible journey. Knowing what I know now, I would most definitely do it all again. I doubt that there’s a better feeling in the world than owning a beautiful, graded Greener. None better, that is, than owning one that you repaired with your own hands without causing even the slightest damage to the gun.
I am acutely aware of my good fortune in being the custodian of this gun for a few years. I will forever be richer for having loved it and enjoyed it. And, I will take pride in knowing that I will pass it on to it’s next guardian in better condition than when it was passed to me.
Sharptail and I created the following iconic image of my new Greener as a tribute to the genius who brought her to life from steel bar and walnut blank.
copyright straightshooter 2011
I was somewhat stunned when I first saw her sitting there on the table. After all, we were at a small gun show that had, in the past, never yielded anything more interesting than some old shot shell boxes. Still, undeniably, I was in the presence of royalty.
Unhesitating, I asked the merchant for permission to touch her majesty. The audacity!! I know. But, I simply had to look closer and see if she really was in the amazing condition she first appeared to be. “Of course”, came the reply. “Otherwise, how will you bond with her?” he grinned.
Indeed, she was glorious. Her metal, though nearly flawless, gave a hint of her many and varied adventures. Her stocks were at once both lithe and full-figured, as they were when she was young and the object of the fascination and the admiration of all the young courtiers. In a sense, it was sad to see her now – unrecognized and unwanted. How many had passed her by without a thought to how she might spend years in a dark and dusty repose?
But how could this be? Her price, after all, was modest. Low enough, in fact, that it immediately made one suspicious. How could anyone offer her up so cheaply? Surely she must have a hideous scar hiding on the other side? But no, no matter how closely I examined her, she gave not a hint but of her regal upbringing.
Gently, reluctantly, I set her down. My companion and I walked a short distance, then stopped to see if we could make some sense of what we had just seen. No matter how we tried, we couldn’t quite fathom how anyone could offer up for such a reasonable price a W.W. Greener 12 bore grade ‘M’ in excellent condition.
The rest of the show did nothing to break the chain of thoughts that was racing through my mind. I barely knew her, but I lusted for her. How could I be so smitten? Something wasn’t right. The price was too low. Warning bells were ringing in my head, but in my infatuated state, they sounded more like wedding bells.
I barely slept that night. The thought of someone else touching her, going on long walks in the woods, fingering her triggers, caused a knot in the pit of my stomach. We shared a mutual destiny. I was a fool not to have seen that.
I was standing at the doors when they opened the next morning. I rushed to her table in a sweat at the prospect that she might be gone. To my immense relief, she was as I had found her. Alone. Unwanted.
I waited until the merchant appeared and made the necessary arrangements to take her home with me. For days afterward I marveled at how light and responsive she is; how her stately lines and immaculate fit and finish serve, not to compromise her noble purpose, but to enhance it.
But, more than anything, I felt privileged to be holding in my hands, a gun that W.W. Greener himself made by hand in his shop. This very gun was built on the ‘facile princeps’ pattern that he developed to compete against Anson and Deeley’s patented box lock – a pattern that was exonerated in a bitter patent infringement lawsuit.
Greener’s guns have a well-deserved reputation for high quality workmanship. His work is particularly respected because, more than anyone, he perfected the concept of using barrel constriction to “choke” the shot stream and produce superior patterns. His exhaustive work on the subject won his guns top prizes in pattern density, distribution, and shot penetration at the historic London Gun Trials.
His Greener Cross Bolt has been imitated by all the best gun makers. And, his distinctive side safety is both clever and functional.
Under the hood
I purchased the Greener in February. Circumstances conspired and I never got a chance to fire the gun for several months. One day I decided to slip a couple of snap caps into the breech and see how much zing remains in the ejectors. The gun was made in 1901, I reasoned, they could be getting a little spongy by now. Sure enough – the right barrel ejector worked perfectly, the left barrel, not at all.
At this point, you may be thinking “Aha!! That’s why the price was unexpectedly low.”
You may be right. But, even if I had known about the ejector, I would STILL have found the price quite reasonable. Even so, having a limp ejector did take some wind from my sails.
After dwelling in the slight disappointment for a time, I resolved to do something about it. So, I removed the fore end and tried to imagine how the thing comes apart. The big screw in the middle of the fore end iron seemed like the place to start, but I couldn’t find a proper turn screw to fit it and under no circumstances was I going to take a chance of butchering the screws on such a fine piece.
Consequently, I discussed the problem with my close friend, a fellow GunNutz. He had one with a blade that needed only a slight touch up on a grindstone to make it fit perfectly. As can be expected, though, Greener fore end disassembly is not as straightforward as one would wish. We fussed with it for a time, thought better of it, and eventually drifted to other topics.
Then came last night
Last night, we went out to celebrate an unrelated accomplishment. By the time the cork escaped from the third bottle of wine, we found ourselves in an adventurous mood and facing the Greener fore end. With the uninhibited zeal and complete abandon of the alcohol-fueled, we proceeded to tackle the untold mysteries of the Greener ejector system.
At this point, I owe each of you a heart-felt apology. Surely it must have been the wine that made us oblivious to our responsibility to document the process in pictures. But, alas, we failed miserably in that regard.
The trials and tribulations were many. With immense care, we gently coaxed the fore end iron away from the walnut and, ultimately, into it’s component pieces. Even completely disassembled, though, we could find no reason for the malfunction. So, we decided to polish, clean, and lubricate all the pieces.
The Greener ejector system employs a curious double coil spring system. We speculated at what the purpose for this might be. Sharptail suggested that the weaker spring might operate the extractors and the stronger, the ejectors. I believe he was exactly correct in this theory. More importantly, it was while considering this theory that I noticed what had previously escaped us both – the springs were not placed on the ejector shafts in the same order. Could this possibly be the only thing wrong with the ejector?!!?
By the time I made it home, it was 2:00 A.M. I was up an additional hour trying to figure out why, after our little “repair”, the fore end no longer fit my Greener. Eventually, my sleep-deprived brain realized that the ejectors needed to be cocked before the fore end could be repositioned.
All in all, it was an incredible journey. Knowing what I know now, I would most definitely do it all again. I doubt that there’s a better feeling in the world than owning a beautiful, graded Greener. None better, that is, than owning one that you repaired with your own hands without causing even the slightest damage to the gun.
I am acutely aware of my good fortune in being the custodian of this gun for a few years. I will forever be richer for having loved it and enjoyed it. And, I will take pride in knowing that I will pass it on to it’s next guardian in better condition than when it was passed to me.
Sharptail and I created the following iconic image of my new Greener as a tribute to the genius who brought her to life from steel bar and walnut blank.
copyright straightshooter 2011
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