West Raynham Business Park is located on the site of a former RAF base. Sorties were flown from here until 1974. The facility then went on another 20 years before its closure in 1994. After that, the place lay empty for some years, until it was eventually bought and turned into an industrial park.
The Park’s list of occupants includes a busy film production company. Not suprising really, as this old base has bags of character. All sorts of movies could be set here, from an Enigma-type story to a full-blown zombie apocalypse.
Perhaps due to its tranquil aspect, the Business Park is also home to a variety of artists and craftsmen. My neighbour across the hallway, for instance, makes the most beautiful custom guitars and wood sculptures inspired by waveforms.
For me and my little venture, the past few months have seen a gradual transformation of what was a large, echoey void into dedicated workshop and retail spaces.
I’ve said this before, I know, but I still can’t believe that all this equipment was once packed into an 11′ x 18′ room.
The joy of working on this project has been in realising ideas which, only a few months ago, existed solely in my head. I’ve always worked best when there was a creative problem to be solved, so doing this has been a challenge and a pleasure.
There are a couple more mountains to climb before the premises is ready to resume being an RFD (registered firearms dealer). One consolation though, is that the eye-wateringly expensive joinery stage is now complete, so we can now move onto the fabrication and so forth.
It will be a few more months before we’re back doing what we always did, but we are open, for non-licensable goods and to welcome potential customers
If you’re considering getting into shooting but don’t know where to start, please contact me and I’ll be happy to give you some pointers. Tel: 01328 838142 or email: firstname.lastname@example.org
It’s been a while (again) since I posted, but the last few weeks have been something of a blur. Like most people, I’ve done a few house moves, but never a double move wherein home goes to one place and business another.
I’ve worked for myself for about 25 years and always based from my home. However, as last year drew to a close I had to finally concede that I was tired of having everything under one roof. I was finally ready to make home the place I go to relax.
OK, where are we up to? Well, to begin with, we needed to sort out the floor in the new unit. It had suffered a bit over the years and some parts needed repairing and the whole thing needed a coat of paint. My friend Mike, bless him, came all the way over from Oxford to help me for a weekend and made light work of dealing with the floor issues.
The paint we used was excellent but REALLY whiffy. Mike coped OK but I ended up high as a kit and looking like a mad thing.
The next time I went back (on my own the following week) to paint the rest of the floor, I kitted myself out with a proper fume mask.
Once done, I could start ferrying stuff across to the unit and preempt some of the hassle of the impending move. Some. When that day finally came, for the first time ever I copped out and hired a professional removals firm.
Then came the blurry bit as I sorted out both home and unit. Let’s just say it went OK, but I wouldn’t want to repeat the experience anytime soon.
As well as being a firearms dealer, I also translate and edit text for people. Throughout the entire move period, I had several deadlines to take care of, plus a gazillion micro-decisions to take about how the new RFD (registered firearms dealership) will work.
First things first, I needed to get my office desk all put back together quickly so I could continue working on my edits and administer anything else that needed doing, without the hassle of relying on just a laptop on my knee.
Then the unit needed some work doing on all its doors to make them more secure, make them work properly and give the place the beginnings of a facelift.
Next, up went Bench B, the largest of the three I currently have. You may recall if you follow us on Facebook, that Bench B was a pig to disassemble and not that much fun to put back together. When you’ve just inserted your hundred-and-fiftieth screw lying on your back under the thing, you start to seriously contemplate using it for firewood.
Bench B then needed refinishing as the varnish I’d used before wasn’t suitable. Three coats later, we are now ready to actually start UNPACKING BOXES!
Next it will be Bench A (the reloading bench), at which point I can start thinking about resuming life as a target shooter.
Three months since my last post on here – yikes! Mind you, there’s been more than enough going on.
It’s finally become obvious that the RFD can’t continue in its present cramped space. The addition of a third bench made it clear that there just isn’t enough room any more.
Farewell, JDR Mk IV
I’ve been very happy to run JDR GUNS from my home, but the time has finally come to give it some real elbow room.
Every inch was packed with gun-related stuff. There was still theoretically room for another couple of safes, but you know when you can’t adequately photograph a space that it’s overstuffed.
Welcome, JDR MK V!
I’ve worked from home in one capacity or another for the past 25 years, eight of them with this firm. The temptation to always be on duty is just too great, so the time has come to separate work from home and have clear demarcation lines for each.
There it is, all 900 square feet of it. I don’t mind admitting, that is shockingly large by my standards. But, let’s be realistic, I already had about 25% of an industrial unit packed into an 11′ x 18′ garage.
A work in progress
We take possession in the next week or so and work will then commence to bring the space up to the required standard for police approval and licensing as new premises for JDR GUNS.
It’s likely to take a few months to complete, so I hope you’ll enjoy following our progress as we work towards the goal of reopening in these new premises. More details about the location and so forth nearer the time.
I’ve thoroughly enjoyed writing his blog so far, so thanks to my good friends David & Christel at Shooting Shed for suggesting I start one. I don’t churn posts out at the rate some sites do, but hopefully what does appear is entertaining and interesting.
2018 is one year I will wave off with very mixed feelings. So much water under the bridge and a major loss for the family. I said in an earlier post that my father went into care back in May. Things trundled along more or less OK through the summer but, as time progressed, it became obvious Dad’s health was faltering.
Dad died in hospital at the end of October, so the intervening time has been rather a blur of arrangements and back-and-forth, culminating in a windswept and rainy funeral down in Cornwall.
My father is a hard person to sum up in a few lines, because he was such a mixture. Despite having a fearsome temper, he seemed to be one of those people everybody turned to in a crisis. He could be volatile and grouchy, but also blessed with a terrific sense of humour. When we all met up for a meal the night before Dad’s funeral, we spent much of the time laughing about some of his most unintentionally comical outbursts when my brother and I were kids.
We’ll all miss him badly, but the boys are coming over this year and we’ll remember with fondness the end of 2015 when, appalled by the cost of Christmas trees, the four of us got rather merry, sawed a dead branch off one of the trees in the garden, decorated it with baubles and then sat down to watch Die Hard. Yipee ki-yay, that was a good Christmas!
This year’s tree is more traditional, but with a hobby-based spin. We have 30-40 Krag, 44 Magnum and a handful of 308 Win (all inert of course) gracing the tree’s branches. I am seriously wondering about selling Christmas tree ammunition next year, for people who shoot, or perhaps just fancy something a little out of the ordinary.
Once again, son no. 2 – Ben – will be our chef and I guess I will probably be the chief washer-upper. There’ll be a litany of movies to watch (most likely including Die Hard again) and I think we might have a game or two of Exploding Kittens or Cards Against Humanity.
Have a good Christmas break and I hope 2019 brings the very best for you.
This weekend was a little different to normal. A local gun club I’ve joined was upgrading its range and needed a few spare bodies to help out. I don’t have any particular skills in fabrication or carpentry (just basic bodging) so didn’t really know what to expect.
As it turned out, I had one of the most enjoyable and rewarding days for some while. I’m still sore and stiff from lugging stuff about, but there’s nothing like a work day to get to know some of the other guys a bit better.
Judging from the comprehensive drawings that had been produced, a great deal of preparation and planning had gone into this work. Today’s task was to ensure the safest possible conditions for the club’s pistol shooters by installing a new set of baffles.
Even so, there were a few IKEA moments – ones when the blood drains from everyone’s faces because they think they’ve assembled everything back to front. Thankfully, we hadn’t. This structure probably tops half a ton, so not exactly Meccano.
The really nice thing was that, if things did go slightly awry, nobody got rattled or lost their cool. It was all puzzled out by discussion, suggestion, trial and error and (much as I loath buzzwords) teamwork. There was also that kind of blokish banter (sadly not much of it printable) which made the time pass easily.
Firing ranges, by their very nature, need a fair bit of maintenance. Frames get shot to bits, debris needs regular clearing out and equipment has to be checked and periodically replaced. This project is part of an ongoing makeover to enhance safety and security at the range.
After a few hours’ work, the steelwork was safely in place. Supported at each end, bolted in multiple locations and then welded just to be absolutely sure. Now it’s in, it’s not going anywhere.
Members like me with muzzle-loading revolvers and long-barrel pistols and revolvers can now resume their sport. It’s a great little 25-yard indoor range and ideal for gallery load development.
I recently watched 22 July, a Netflix original directed by Paul Greengrass and now on Netflix in the UK. It recounts the events of summer 2011 when right-wing extremist, Anders Behring Breivik detonated a bomb outside the Norwegian government buildings in Oslo, killing eight people. He then made his way to Utøya island, where a youth camp was under way. There, he massacred a further 69 people, mostly teenagers.
The film doesn’t shrink from the unpleasant details of what happened but, even having seen the trailer, it’s still shocking to witness. Due to problems getting emergency response teams out to Utøya quickly, Breivik got a full 90 minutes to roam about, shouting at “the Marxist elite” and picking off whomever he encountered.
In addition to those killed, Breivik also injured over 200 people in Oslo and another 110 on Utøya. It was the deadliest act of aggression on Norwegian soil since World War II.
When interrogated, Breivik claimed to be a member of the Knights Templar and that his “operation” was the first stage in a military coup d’état, intended to rid Norway and Europe of Islam and multiculturalism. The morning of his attacks, he had published a rambling 1500-page manifesto online, detailing his vision for transforming Europe, presumably in his own image.
When he was eventually confronted by police, Breivik calmly laid down his weapons and surrendered. Anders Danielsen Lie plays Breivik. Although Lie may not physically resemble the real-life murderer, he does infuse his depiction with a chilling air of narcissism and quiet superiority. In preparing for the role, Lie said he listened to quite a large volume of the interrogation tapes with Breivik. “Alarmingly normal” was how Lie described him.
Once the emergency services arrive and begin sorting through the carnage, the film picks up the simultaneous threads of Breivik, as he is detained, questioned and indicted and Viljar Hanssen, a 17-year-old high school student who survived multiple gunshot wounds on the island that day.
Viljar’s long road to physical and mental recovery forms a core part of the story. Narrowly surviving five bullets, he eventually appears in court to testify against Breivik. The role of Viljar gets a convincing and intense performance by actor Jonas Strand Gravli; when Viljar does eventually face Breivik in court, you’re almost living it with him.
Another plot thread examines the role of Breivik’s lawyer in the whole affair. Bound by the principle that even the vilest of offenders deserves a proper defence, advocate Geir Lippestad (Jon Øigarden) decides that he will represent Breivik. It’s a costly move, affecting him and his family very deeply. We’re party to the soul-searching behind Lippestad’s decision, but also his tacit disgust at his client.
Paul Greengrass shot his film in English but wisely chose an almost entirely Norwegian cast and authentic locations. The movie thus gets its mainstream audience but retains a feel of stark reality. Just a few minor changes were made to the facts to keep the narrative flowing smoothly. The principal cast is excellent, but there really isn’t a wrong note from any of the supporting actors either. 22 July is extremely well put-together. It’s not light entertainment but tells a harrowing story in immersive fashion.
Greengrass is no stranger to this kind of filmmaking. His filmography includes The Bourne Ultimatum and United 93 (the story of the one aircraft on 9/11 that didn’t hit its intended target because the passengers assaulted the terrorists). Peril and how people react to it is clearly a subject Greengrass handles exceedingly well.
I was particularly interested to see this film because I’ve a strong personal connection with Norway. I worked over there briefly and then went back again later as a student of Scandinavian languages. During that time, I lived in Telemark, coincidentally the same county in which Anders Behring Breivik is now incarcerated. It’s been some years since I last visited Norway, but I was pleased to find I could still understand some of the background Norwegian chatter in 22 July.
22 July shows us plenty of Norway, but without calling attention to the fact. Perhaps the most striking vista of all is on Svalbard where Viljar contemplates the future opening up before him, even as his assailant gets banged up in a prison cell. It’s a most effective piece of symbolism for what happened to Norway. A beautiful country that suffered something awful and yet managed to work through it, move on and look to the future without knee-jerking, blamestorming or politicising.
I sincerely hope nothing like the events of 22nd July 2011 ever visits Norway again, but I admire the way the country dealt with it. They didn’t over-regulate law-abiding citizens to try and make people feel safer. They took what practical steps they could but recognised that you can’t legislate for the kind of lunatic who stole 77 lives for his warped notion of freedom.
Personally, I’d have seen Breivik strung up, but that’s just me. The Norwegians are much more measured. They took the long view and were determined to learn from their tragedy and get past it. What’s more, this way, Breivik gets to preach his rubbish to the same four walls for the rest of his days, secure in the knowledge that nobody’s listening.
The makeover I gave my own Taurus has stirred some interest amongst our customers and we are starting to get requests to sort out and smarten up people’s revolvers.
Taurus has been the default long-barrel revolver (LBR) on the UK market for many years; nearly every LBR you’ll see at a range will be one.
Unfortunately, although resembling Smith & Wesson in their aesthetic, the Tauruses don’t have the same fit and finish as a Smith. I’ve come across quite a few that needed attention from brand new; even some that have been laid to one side because they just don’t work properly.
True, these guns have their idiosyncrasies. That horrible cylinder detent and spring that loves to work its way into the mechanism. Rough finishing inside the cylinder axis leading to ejection issues. Overly tight-fitting side-plates. Coarsely finished forcing cones. A closure mechanism that clogs after a couple of dozen rounds. And the nasty rubber grips that sting the web of your hand when firing.
But even at their current prices, the Tauruses are still a fraction of the cost of an actual converted Smith & Wesson, if you can find one at all. Made to work properly and given the love and attention they need, these revolvers can be great shooters.
That’s why I’m rolling out a service aimed specifically at these guns; to make them look and shoot better than when they left the factory.
All sorts of options are available to bring your gun the look and feel that you want. Matching rear extensions and ejector rods, a selection of hardwood or laminated grips, recrowning the muzzle and polishing the forcing cone. And not forgetting, polishing of the whole gun to a mirror shine.
Why not give your Taurus the makeover it deserves?
I’ve not really said anything about this, but the last two years have been particularly trying.
Up until May this year, I had my elderly dad living with me and I have to say it was not easy. Old age brings its own challenges, but there were some complicating factors which made it all especially difficult.
In the end, I got so burned out, I pretty much lost my independence and all my hobbies and interests went on the backburner. That’s an experience I hope never to repeat.
I didn’t completely lose my way as a shooter though. There were one or two guns on the list which I managed to pick up in the meantime, such as this Marlin:
If you’re a cinema goer, you may recall this as being the same model toted by Chris Pratt in the first Jurassic World film. And what a gun it is!
Thankfully, exhausted as I was, I didn’t lose the ability to have a laugh. It’s a valuable way of letting off steam.
Eventually, I had to stop being an impromptu carer or I really was destined for a tinfoil hat. So, very reluctantly, I had to broach the tricky subject of Dad going into full-time care. Damn, that was the hardest conversation of my entire life.
My father went into care in May and I was expecting to then launch myself straight back into everything.
Nnneeeegh – wrong! Instead, I sat in a stupor for about two weeks, just slowly recharging my batteries and then, eventually, mulling over what I wanted to do with the business and hobbies.
Small steps first – I spent a few more weeks repairing the house and getting my office and dealership space as I need them.
The various spaces aren’t fully utilised yet, but that is partly deliberate. You always need room to expand and so I’ve built that in.
I feel particularly lucky to have a really nice reloading area. Handloading was another aspect to the shooting hobby which I always enjoyed, but which just died off while I was otherwise occupied. I’ve now started up again and am enjoying getting back into it.
I once asked someone what sort of space was needed for a reloading setup and the droll reply was, “twice as much as you originally planned for!” They were right. Reloading expands to fill the space available and then just overflows everywhere. Space – the final frontier. Have plenty of it, if you can.
45-70 Govt is a new one on me. In the intervening two years, I have acquired two or three guns which I have still yet to fire, one of which is the Marlin 1895SBL shown above. I like straight-walled cartridges; they’re nice and easy to work with.
Trail Boss is the powder for now. The Marlin can take some very stiff loads but I’m working with very modest ones here. This is partly because all the bullets I have are plain cast lead (without gas checks – the copper gaskets you need to have on the base of a lead bullet being drive at more than 1,100 fps). I’m also naturally cautious when starting a new calibre. It’s a good idea not to go crazy and start making powerful loads until you’re sure of what you’re doing.
A visual inspection of all cases after adding powder. Making sure they all actually have powder and that none are under or over-filled.
405gr cast lead bullets; real beasts. The 45-70 can fell a bear so it’s a big old round. The cartridge was originally used in guns like the Springfield trapdoor and other single-shot rifles. It’s a 45-70 because it’s 45 calibre and originally would have had 70 grains of black powder.
Once the visual inspection is complete, I pop an inverted bullet on top of each case. This means I know they are all ready to go and also prevents powder spillage or other accidents if you accidentally nudge the tray.
And there they are, a handful of newly-made 45-70 Govt rounds. Anything going into a tubular magazine needs a nice firm crimp, otherwise the bullets can get forced back into the cases under recoil and then the internal pressure goes up.
I’m looking forward to trying them out. It should be good fun.