Hunting with OLD rare cartridges.

No, it wasn't The action is clearly stamped Cordite 43 270 Max 375EX. the rifle was put together by Alexander Martin Aberdeen. But go ahead and call it a 9.5 x56/57 if it makes you feel better

It does...it does make me feel better!:D
 
Federal still make the paper shells that have "THE" smell, one you never forget. My most used gun for big game is the 50/90 Sharps, which I make up with my own cast bullets, same with the 45/70 and 30/30, also use for hunting(though not as much) the .32/40, .38/55, and .45/100 Sharps. For varmints I really like the .218 Mashburn Bee, and this season it will be joined by a .25/20 SS. I have many modern rifles but don't consider them very effective on big game, this year I will have my Win. '95 in .303 for use in the field...

Any idea Ben what powder they used to get the smell. We could never match it with any reloads back in the day or with any modern day powders??
 
When i reload the Federal papers, they give off the smell, they still make them in Trap loads, hard to find sometimes and more expensive. The last bunch i bought must have been old because a lot of the paper hulls split down the side and I've never had that before with "papers". I don't think it's the powders that create the smell, I think it's how they treat the paper so that it doesn't swell over time.
 
When i reload the Federal papers, they give off the smell, they still make them in Trap loads, hard to find sometimes and more expensive. The last bunch i bought must have been old because a lot of the paper hulls split down the side and I've never had that before with "papers". I don't think it's the powders that create the smell, I think it's how they treat the paper so that it doesn't swell over time.

That makes sense Ben I always tried to match the powder and never could on a reload probally why. Thanks for sharing I am going to pick up some of those federals.Take care:)
 
Oh man ... I miss the smell of those old Imperial shotgun shells :) Think I may have to dig through the "random ammo" bin and see if I have any left :)

Back on Topic ... I'm working on getting set up for reloading 32 Rem for my Remington Recoiless.
 
They smell like the poplar leaves scattered throughout the October woods, and like the spruce bog you hike across to get there. They smell like the two ruffed grouse you carry by their feet in your left hand as you walk down the trail with your shotgun in your right. They smell like the crisp autumn wind, as it swirls beneath the late morning sun busily trying to burn off the morning's frost.

They smell like the sandwich and the crisp, juicy apple you stop to have for lunch before having to turn around for the afternoon's walk back to the truck. They smell like the cooling air as the sun starts to move over the trees and begin its leisurely descent. But most of all, they smell like the man who walked beside you as you did all this. The man who taught you and got you started on this endless journey called hunting. The man who carried the same single shot twelve gauge for as long as you can remember. The man who once accidentally dropped a slug into the chamber and still managed to hit a bird on the wing -- what a story that was for awhile, something that only the two of you shared. The man who, yes indeed, always had a handful of Imperial paper-cased shells in the pocket of his hunting jacket.

Yes, most of all, they smell like Dad.

God, I miss him.

Replace Dad with Uncle, and you just wrote out the history of my hunting life. :cheers: Brought a tear to my eye reading that ... because that is exactly what the smell of those shells is.
 
This past fall, I hunted deer with a 45-60. Watched a doe go slowly browsing by, but I had a buck tag. Next fall, I'm thinking of hunting with a 38-72. They quit making 38-72 ammo in the 1930's. Here's a photo of one of my 38-72 reloads .....

38-72-cartridge.jpg
 
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They smell like the poplar leaves scattered throughout the October woods, and like the spruce bog you hike across to get there. They smell like the two ruffed grouse you carry by their feet in your left hand as you walk down the trail with your shotgun in your right. They smell like the crisp autumn wind, as it swirls beneath the late morning sun busily trying to burn off the morning's frost.

They smell like the sandwich and the crisp, juicy apple you stop to have for lunch before having to turn around for the afternoon's walk back to the truck. They smell like the cooling air as the sun starts to move over the trees and begin its leisurely descent. But most of all, they smell like the man who walked beside you as you did all this. The man who taught you and got you started on this endless journey called hunting. The man who carried the same single shot twelve gauge for as long as you can remember. The man who once accidentally dropped a slug into the chamber and still managed to hit a bird on the wing -- what a story that was for awhile, something that only the two of you shared. The man who, yes indeed, always had a handful of Imperial paper-cased shells in the pocket of his hunting jacket.

Yes, most of all, they smell like Dad.

God, I miss him.

Very poetic. Very true.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go hug my Dad...
 
I am not in love with the new Wizzms and dont own any. I guess most of my cals are old but not so much. 308, 30-06, 22, 12ga and now a 45/70 and an old Marlin in 35Rem. Sold my 38-55 cuz it was too old to load better. Not so with the saddle ring carbine 45/70.
But Im looking for a trapdoor carbine. The Custer gun. Seems to be something so cool about shooting one of those old ladies. I think I am on the other side of this group-I am not so much in love with the old cals as the old actions. Have a BSA Martini Model 8 22 that is an absolute tack driver with tang sights. Looking to get more into those. Lots of old stuff to like in this hobby and some killer history to go along with it. Prolly why I like the Hickock vids so much. The guy actually fondles the guns hes shooting. I like that. Now thats passion.
 
Hmm some great stories here! About the only oddball I have is a Win 1894 in 32-40 from 1909 I bought years ago from an old bushrat. Haven't taken a deer with it yet but i was just looking it at in the safe the other day, thinking i gotta get this ol girl out again. I still got a box or two of original ammo for it and some reload...

Luke
 
I was looking through a book "Cartridges Of The World" (great bed time reading) and wondering if there are folks who enjoy hunting with some of the old gems. Cartrigdes that you can not find in a shooting store and have to load your own or hunt through gun shows and auctions fo find some ammo.

I have two that fit that category. The first is an old Winchester highwall in 219 Donaldson Wasp, primarily for paper punching, use on preds and varmints.

WinchesterHighWall219DW-1.jpg


Some custom made brass, although a little hard to find, can be obtained but basically, brass for this cartridge I form from 30-30. I have yet to see and factory ammo available and I doubt that it ever was, but if so, as scarce as hens teeth.

The second, which I plan on giving a good work out this fall on possibly Deer and Moose is a Winchester model 71 deluxe in 348 WCF.

Model71Winchester348WCF-1.jpg


Over time, I've accumulated a generous supply of brass as well as a decent variety of jacketed bullets and a couple cast variations. As I understand it, although not readily available in most retail outlets, Winchester has made another production run of factory ammo.

Almost forgot the old 1894 Marlin in 44-40.

Marlin189444-402-1.jpg


There is ammo available, a little hard to find in stores but it is around.
 
I have an 1893 Marlin in 38-56 I want to take deer hunting next fall.

I assume you meant a 1895 Marlin ;)

Yes I've hunted with 38-56, Trapdoor 45-70, 38-40, 32-40, 25-35, 45-60, 40-65 but mostly now my old caliber hunting consists of 38-55, 33wcf & soon a 50-70 US crossed sword stamped RB:)
 
They smell like the poplar leaves scattered throughout the October woods, and like the spruce bog you hike across to get there. They smell like the two ruffed grouse you carry by their feet in your left hand as you walk down the trail with your shotgun in your right. They smell like the crisp autumn wind, as it swirls beneath the late morning sun busily trying to burn off the morning's frost.

They smell like the sandwich and the crisp, juicy apple you stop to have for lunch before having to turn around for the afternoon's walk back to the truck. They smell like the cooling air as the sun starts to move over the trees and begin its leisurely descent. But most of all, they smell like the man who walked beside you as you did all this. The man who taught you and got you started on this endless journey called hunting. The man who carried the same single shot twelve gauge for as long as you can remember. The man who once accidentally dropped a slug into the chamber and still managed to hit a bird on the wing -- what a story that was for awhile, something that only the two of you shared. The man who, yes indeed, always had a handful of Imperial paper-cased shells in the pocket of his hunting jacket.

Yes, most of all, they smell like Dad.

God, I miss him.

Yes Sir, thanks for the fond memories. My Dad used to carry me into the marsh on his shoulders. Would plunk me high and dry on a rat house and drop half dozen of those inflatable rubber decoys with the metal ring that were called "Deeks". I would watch mallards play into the wind and my old man drop doubles with his poly choked M12 Winchester. Never wasted a shell as he was the product of the great depression of the 1930's. And the smell of those fired orange Canuck Heavy 5's on a cool damp October morning was somethig I have never forgotten.

Last Time I hunted with my Dad was about a decade ago when he was in his late 70's. He shot a couple ducks and I almost had to carry him out on my back. Got to the truck and he said "I'm done...had a good go at it, lots of memories and good times". He never hunted again. Spooky thing is that this last hunt was at the same place where so many hears ago he carried me into the marsh. Today my only son and I hunt this same cattail slough complex...and yes I did carry him on my back as well.
 
Those were the days with the Imperial 12ga and Grandad's Stirlingworth fox. Another favorite was that smell of the old grease and whatnot you can smell when you tear apart an old firearm that has been a little neglected for a long time.

As to hunting with the less known chamberings it has been great fun doing just that for the past few years. 41 Swiss, 25 Rem, 250HP have met success so far, the 30-40 is still trying, and hopefully there will be a couple others to try.
 
This past fall, I hunted deer with a 45-60. Watched a doe go slowly browsing by, but I had a buck tag. Next fall, I'm thinking of hunting with a 38-72.

Hey 38-55 for your 38-72 did you import some brass or make it? I just made 40 cases from 405 for exactly the reason this thread was posted to hunt with the old girls. I'm going to be making another 10 for the 38-72 and then 50 for the 40-72, but have to get out and empty another 60 405s before I can. Them black bears(and maybe a grizzly) are going to be in deep sh!t this spring

I've loaded up 38-72, 38-55, 33 & 35 Win, 45-90, 348, the Krag and Brit, 405, and of coarse 45-70 and then for a Shilo LRE in 45-110.
And when I find a stock for my old 86 in 38-56 I'll have loads for it too.

Ben, I've been trying to find bullets for the 2-40's I've got, the 40-82 and the 40-72, do you by any chance cast a bullet in this .406 dia and if so what weight? I'd sure like to find a couple hundred in the 275-300 gn range so the old girls won't feel left out.

Neo, that was nice, I missed out on that part of the experience. My old man dislikes hunting and guns in general so all my early hunting experiences are me alone with my pellet rifle and then my 22 (after untold begging and pleading) and then on after I was old enough to buy my own CFs and shotguns. I have some fond memories with buddies in our mid-late teens, but none early on like you guys, I truly envy you those memories !!

Douglas
 
They smell like the poplar leaves scattered throughout the October woods, and like the spruce bog you hike across to get there. They smell like the two ruffed grouse you carry by their feet in your left hand as you walk down the trail with your shotgun in your right. They smell like the crisp autumn wind, as it swirls beneath the late morning sun busily trying to burn off the morning's frost.

They smell like the sandwich and the crisp, juicy apple you stop to have for lunch before having to turn around for the afternoon's walk back to the truck. They smell like the cooling air as the sun starts to move over the trees and begin its leisurely descent. But most of all, they smell like the man who walked beside you as you did all this. The man who taught you and got you started on this endless journey called hunting. The man who carried the same single shot twelve gauge for as long as you can remember. The man who once accidentally dropped a slug into the chamber and still managed to hit a bird on the wing -- what a story that was for awhile, something that only the two of you shared. The man who, yes indeed, always had a handful of Imperial paper-cased shells in the pocket of his hunting jacket.

Yes, most of all, they smell like Dad.

God, I miss him.

Wow, that was pure poetry and memories come to life. Thanks for sharing, it brings it all back with the exception of my first hunt with Dad being for deer at the age of 5. I still remember coming out of the woods at dusk with the bare trees hanging over the trail and Dad holding my hand with the old 94 over his other shoulder - wasn't scared at all...


blake
 
Yup, i remember that smell from the imperial shells. I can still picture the little wisp of smoke from inside as well. Brings back a lot of forgotten memories. 303 british loaded with cordite had a different smell as well when fired.
 
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