A pal has just told Facebook about his pleasure at acquiring a Black Hawk in .41 Magnum, triggering a certain nostalgia around here. It was a caliber which didn't deserve commercial death and probably would have survived if semi-autos hadn't taken over the cops' world.
I sold mine several years ago for just two reasons. It was a minty three-screw, and I decided I didn't want to subject it to the abrasions of field use. The decision was sealed one night in the reloading shack when it dawned on me that I was stocking bullets and dies for a ridiculous number of calibers. So, ludditically, I resolved to home-brew nothing other than .38/.357 and .45. It was a practical decision but sometimes regretful -- like wishing you hadn't sent that trusty old girl friend out into the cold just because she demanded liver and onions once in a while.
There a small and amusing chapter in firearms history about the .41 Remington Magnum. About three years before its time, George L. Herter had begun selling a proprietary cartridge called the .401 PowerMag. He did a good deal of caterwauling to the effect that Remington simply stole his cartridge.
1 comment:
I think it remains because it leaves a few thousandths of an inch extra in a paper-thin S&W cylinder stop notch, and is therefore loaded to warranty-voiding pressures.
I know where you're coming from with the proliferation of calibers argument. I stopped at 6.5 pistol calibers, because frankly, the die and mold clutter is ridiculous. I turned down a very cheap Blackhawk in .41 that needed only minor repairs, a Redhawk in .480 and a Taurus in .454 Casull. Glad I did, because my brief infatuation with handguns sorta wore off.
Frankly handguns are pretty boring unless they emit a billowing, sulfurous cloud or a six-foot-long muzzle flash.
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