Black powder

[KiwiKev]

Any shooting black powder out of their 357/38 Rossi? If so how is it going with fouling etc? I tried a round today it was a real hoot!

[Griff]

I shot BP in .357 cartridges out of my wife's .38/.357 Rossi in SASS for about a year until I got an 1873. Stuff the case full of FFFg to where a bullet will slightly compact the charge, and it's a bit more than a regular .38Spl.; 4Fg will give a bit better velocity and less fouling, 2Fg will be a bit more fouling & lower velocity.

I like the 45Colt for BP better, but it will have some blowback and foul the chamber area a bit more. Using a .38 Spl case will also foul a bit more than the longer .357 Mag case.

[perry owens]

I have used .357 BP loads for years. Load as Griff says. I use nickel cases and Swiss powder as I find that the cases seem to stay cleaner, also I can see at a glance which rounds are BP.
Perry Owens

[AJMD429]

Any more or different gun cleaning involved with cartridge use of black powder...?

[M. M. Wright]

Black powder fouling MUST be cleaned with water based cleaners. In 60 years of shooting the stuff I've never seen a commercial product that will equal HOT soapy water for cleaning up the weapon and the brass. I have however seen a couple of muzzle-loaders ruined by cleaning with some off the shelf "black powder solvent". Many more with just neglect or cleaning with some smokeless solvent. Use water! Add a dash, (glug?) of vinegar to your brass soaking solution along with some dish soap and don't leave it more than about 4 hours. If you do it'll turn brass black and will take longer to polish in the tumbler.
You'll be better off using one of the "dash" calibers since they were designed for it. You know, 44-40, 38-40 etc. They pretty much eliminate blow-back into the action. My 73 in 44-40 only gets a complete teardown about once a year.
For years I used re-barreled or relined 92 Winchesters but finally went to the 73 for SASS. I did have one really nice El Tigre but it shot loose (developed excess head space) in only a year or two of full house black loads. Guess the metal was mostly old beer cans. They were steel back then but most of you won't remember that.

[rusty gunns]

Black powder fouling MUST be cleaned with water based cleaners. In 60 years of shooting the stuff I've never seen a commercial product that will equal HOT soapy water for cleaning up the weapon and the brass.
...snip...

I completely agree. I shoot BP in my pistols, rifle and shotgun at Sass shoots. A little trick I use, since I leave there with 120 or so empties is ::

I bring a large mayo jar or the like. I half fill it with water and a splash of dish-washing liquid. I drop the fired brass in it as I go. Once home, I rinse the brass well, let it dry, then into the tumbler. It makes a world of difference and cuts down on "Tumbler Time"

[KiwiKev]

just come back from the range. I loaded 11 BP 38 special rounds. Filled the cases up close to the top and compressed down a 158 grain LSWC. This time I was shooting on the 50 m range. They actually pretty well, mainly in the black. I ran a patch through the barrel after five shots and gave the barrel a good clean after 11. It was pretty filthy. Then continued with smokeless powder. All in all a very interesting experiment into the 38 special BP round. What I noticed was the target was difficulty to see as I recycled the Rossi!

[jcw]

]Black powder fouling MUST be cleaned with water based cleaners. In 60 years of shooting the stuff I've never seen a commercial product that will equal HOT soapy water for cleaning up the weapon and the brass.
...snip...[/quote]


Any issues with "flash rusting" when using HOT water? I've been using luke warm water with no rust problems.

[Griff]

Black powder fouling MUST be cleaned with water based cleaners. In 60 years of shooting the stuff I've never seen a commercial product that will equal HOT soapy water for cleaning up the weapon and the brass.
...snip...

Any issues with "flash rusting" when using HOT water? I've been using luke warm water with no rust problems.

"Hot" as in tap water hot. No issues with flash rusting if you dry immediately, and use a protective lube.

[w30wcf]

+1 on Swiss b.p. It leaves moist fouling and thus a repeating rifle can be fired for many shots accurately. If you shoot smokeless afterwards that will clean out the b.p fouling. Then just clean like you would after smokeless.

w30wcf

[FatJackDurham]

My 357 Rossi 92 shoots much more consistantly with bp at low velocities that smokeless.

[O.S.O.K.]

I reserve my blackpowder shooting for my.... blackpowder guns

But if you like cleaning your leverguns thoroughly after shooting black - more powder to you!

[Old Ironsights]

My experience with bp.in .38/.357 matches Griff's.

If's a fun/educational experiment that let's you know how useful your gun can be w/o smokeless.

IMO a .357 loaded with bp becomes/is equivelent to a modern smokeless .38.… which really isn't all that bad.

Load a bp .357 up with a dead soft 158gr LSWHP and it is going to perform better than one of tbe best performing "classic" revolver cartridges available...

[olyinaz]

+1 on Swiss b.p. It leaves moist fouling and thus a repeating rifle can be fired for many shots accurately. If you shoot smokeless afterwards that will clean out the b.p fouling. Then just clean like you would after smokeless.

w30wcf

Hmmm..... You sure about that??

[Old Ironsights]

+1 on Swiss b.p. It leaves moist fouling and thus a repeating rifle can be fired for many shots accurately. If you shoot smokeless afterwards that will clean out the b.p fouling. Then just clean like you would after smokeless.

w30wcf

Hmmm..... You sure about that??

I wouldn't be...

IMO/IMEX Black is Black, and Smokeless is Smokeless. The residues from either are not compatible with their alternative cleaners.

[awp101]

I know I've posted this before in BP threads, but I just can't resist posting it again for the newer audience...

Why I don't shoot Black Powder

Understand that from the time I could put together a rational thought, I’ve been fascinated by guns. My mother used to prop me in front of the little round picture box as a baby so I could watch men on horseback shooting at each other with guns...

The first “real” shooter I owned was a Mattel Fanner 50... it shot Mattel Shootin’ Shells and used Greenie Stick ‘Em caps. I was greased-lightning fast and Grim Reaper deadly with it... for my punishment of erroneous deeds my mom would take the gun away for a few days... dad, on the other hand, used the gunbelt for a more heartily applied punishment to the South end of this Northbound cowpoke.
It seems like that gunbelt got as much [applied] use as that Fanner 50. Who knew old people would jump that high when you shot them in the butt? Sorry, Nana... but the bone china tea set dad bought to replace the one you were carrying was much prettier and newer than that 150 year old set you were always bragging to Aunt Gladys about...
And Cousin Peter?
Sorry about the eye, buddy.
But at least it kept you out of the army...

When I was twelve I was shipped off for the summer to church camp, where I was introduced to the joys of the .22 Long Rifle cartridge. There were six shooters in my squad and we could choose from the six semi-auto and two bolt action rifles available. Even then it was evident I’d be a purist: I was the only one to choose a bolt action.
While the other kids were busy shooting hundreds of rounds of ammo downrange as quickly as they could, I carefully aimed my bolt action in the general direction of the targets... while actually shooting birds over by the pond like Gary Cooper taught George Tobias to shoot turkeys in Sgt. York– “sorta from back to front...”, and imagining each of those evil birds was wearing a German helmet. I still say the counselors should have told us on Orientation Day. I mean, who even knew there WERE swans, huh? They looked like big ducks wearing holdup masks, if you really want to know the truth.
Dad didn’t see it that way, though... especially since he had to pay for the swans– and they didn’t refund the seven weeks’ unused camp tuition when they expelled me, either. Did I mention what dad used my Fanner 50 gunbelt for?
After my exposure to the real thing at camp– albeit for only a brief period– I wasn’t too interested in playing with the Daisy BB guns my friends had. I was above owning one of those childish things... but not above borrowing one to play with every once in awhile.
And Ritchie?
Sorry about the eye, buddy.
But at least it kept you out of the army...

I finally turned eighteen and could [legally] own my own black powder revolver, but I was just a bit short in the savings department. Not being the patient sort, I chose the most expedient means to get the money. As I look back now, I suppose I am sorry those junior high kids couldn’t turn in their paper route money that week...

I’d been looking at a pretty, brass-framed BP revolver in the case at Shattuck’s Hardware for a couple of months, and boy! Was I ever proud the day I went in and plunked down the money for it! Eleven dollars in one dollar bills... and eighteen dollars in quarter and dimes.
Old Man Shattuck was a great old guy, whose eyesight, thankfully, had gotten really bad over the years... otherwise he’d have chased me out of the store like he used to after he caught me stealing that Barlow when I was thirteen... but he didn’t recognize me as he sold me the .36 caliber pistol... he even threw in a box of pure lead balls with the pistol and percussion caps when I bought the pound of black powder.
I told Mr. Shattuck that I was anxious to shoot it and was heading straight for the dump, and asked him to show me how to load the gun.
“It’s pretty simple,” I recall his telling me. “You measure your powder into the cylinder chamber, put a bullet over it, ram it down in with the hinged thing under the barrel, put your cap over a nipple, and you’re set to shoot.”
I thanked him for his help and headed for the door.

“One last thing!” he called to me as I was running out the door, “Don’t forget to put grease over your balls! Crisco works fine!”
I didn’t understand the need for the last part, but I stopped at Tony’s Grocery and bought a little blue can of Crisco grease.
And now... to the dump! Where bottles and cans, rats and crows were just waiting for this ol’ cowboy to do ‘em in!

I replayed Mr. Shattuck’s instructions in my head as I laid out all my gear on the smoothed-out, brown paper bag at my feet. The first thing I realized was that I didn’t have anything to measure the powder with... UNTIL I remembered my knife! I carried one of those folding stag handled camper’s knives– you know, the ones with a fork on one side and a spoon on the other? The spoon was perfect for what I needed!
Very carefully (thank heaven there wasn’t any wind blowing) I poured a spoonful of powder from the can into the spoon, then tipped the spoon up and tapped the powder into the cylinder. Sure, I spilled a bunch over because the spoon held so much more, but what the heck! Powder was cheap, back then... and I had plenty to spare...
Being a methodical kind of kid, I filled all six chambers with the powder, managing to spill as much around my feet, I suppose, as I was getting into the cylinder. I can laugh now, but when I bent over to get the bullets all the powder fell out of the cylinders onto my boots... so I had to fill them all over again!
I managed to get all the chambers filled with powder and then stuck a bullet into the first cylinder... I had to really tap it in with my knife to get it started... then shoved it in as far as it would go with the rammer thing. I lost a little powder in the process, but eventually I had all six chambers loaded and ready to go.
Then I put percussion caps over the things sticking out the ends of the cylinders...
Oops! I forgot a couple of things!

Now, I’ll admit my ignorance about a lot of things... but why I was supposed to smear Crisco on my balls is still a mystery to me.
But I figured Old Man Shattuck knew what he was about, so I looked around to make sure I was alone, then dropped my pants to my knees, opened the can of Crisco and began to smear it over Lefty and Righty.
Standing there in the hot summer sun, slowly massaging soft, silky grease into
my scrotum... gee WHIZ!
I guess the old man knew what he was talking about after all ! Welcome to the joys of shooting!
I had to force myself out of my reverie...

One last thing and then I’d be ready to shoot... I took my baseball cap off and stuffed it inside my shirt over my left nipple. Okay... I guessed I was ready (except, of course, that in my haste I’d forgotten to pull up my pants...)

Well sir, I crooked my left arm out in front of my face, rested the trigger guard of the pistol in my right hand on it, drew a tight bead on an old Four Roses bottle, and squeezed the trigger.
I remember a bright flash, a burning sensation on my arm and face, then something hit me square in the forehead and the lights went out.

It must have been quite sometime later when I awoke. I was laid out across the back seat of Sheriff Miller’s car (I knew this from the plexi-glass partition and a previous ride when I’d been sixteen), the rider’s side door was open and my feet and lower legs were hanging out.
As I raised my head to look for the source of the voices I heard I felt like someone had hit me in the head with a sledgehammer. I could see two men in the dim, evening light, just outside the door and within my range of vision. At least, I thought they were two men... I could hear two speaking but they were sorta spinning around and they looked like six. From the voices I knew they were Sheriff Miller and my Dad...

“... busy on another call so the volunteer fire department was the first out here,” I heard the Sheriff explaining to my dad.
“Mabel Krutchner called it in... said she saw smoke comin’ from the dump and had heard an awful explosion over this way.
“Near as I can tell from what the firemen say, when they got here they found your boy lying over there. At first they thought he was dead. The dump was on fire all around him, his left arm and face were all black, his boots were scorched pretty badly, he had a HUGE knot on his forehead where somebody’d cold-cocked him... and... well, we think the boy’s been... well, taken advantage of.”
“What do you mean ‘Taken advantage of?’” I heard my dad ask.

“Well, Al, it’s like this,” the Sheriff said.
“The first men to get to your boy said he was unconscious; they found part of a gun by his body; his pants were down around his ankles, his crotch was all greased up-- and he was sportin’ a boner...”

Then I heard Mr. Shattuck’s voice.
“I always knew there was something wrong with that boy...
This will probably keep him out of the army...”

And THAT’S why I don’t shoot black powder...


This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living or dead... are pretty close!

copyright2006 BostonJohnDoucette