The Rohrbaugh Forum

Rohrbaugh Products and Accessories => Rohrbaugh Range Reports => Topic started by: Z on July 06, 2012, 10:34:10 PM

Title: R499 is back home
Post by: Z on July 06, 2012, 10:34:10 PM
I recently sold R499 (Deerdale).

I made arangements with his FFL if the new owner did not like his new PUP, I woud refund his money less shipping home.
He took me up on the offer. His FFL had an indoor range and he able to test it out. I was told from the almost owner it would not run reliably and I purchased it back.

Today I went to the range and gave her a test. 93 rounds of Speer 115 GDs down range and not one malfunction! :) I shot three magazines at a time and let her cool down in between.
After a thorough cleaning, she now resting with the other 7 rounds in my front pocket.
Title: Re: R499 is back home
Post by: wildmanwill on July 07, 2012, 01:04:07 AM
Sorry to hear that the sale didn't work out.  Perhaps, as we have often seen/read, it was an issue with the owner and not with the pup.  Sounds like you have restored it to its proper place in the kennel.
Title: Re: R499 is back home
Post by: Richard S on July 07, 2012, 09:09:39 AM
That "almost owner" reminds me of a certain candidate in my OCS class back in the early '60s.  Among other things, he couldn't seem to get either a 1911 or an M14 to "run reliably." Need I mention that he failed to graduate?
Title: Re: R499 is back home
Post by: backupr9 on July 07, 2012, 11:48:59 PM
Often it is the rider, not the horse.  There is another thread dealing with the need for some experience and expertise in using a finely toleranced  very small weapon of this caliber which is right on.
Title: Re: R499 is back home
Post by: Richard S on July 13, 2012, 05:42:59 PM
Quote from: backupr9 on July 07, 2012, 11:48:59 PM
Often it is the rider, not the horse.  There is another thread dealing with the need for some experience and expertise in using a finely toleranced  very small weapon of this caliber which is right on.

To switch metaphors -- back in the 1950s when I was in college at GWU, I used to run my Triumph TR2 in time trials on a banked asphalt oval track out in Maryland. One weekend, I had finished my run and was watching the remaining drivers put their sports cars through the paces. One man driving a white 1957 Corvette took the track, left the line burning rubber, entered the first turn a little high, and destroyed the right side of his pride and joy against the retaining wall.

Often it is the driver, not the vehicle.