Getting Started with the Old Rifle
So, I decided to finally tackle that old rifle that’s been sitting in the back of the closet forever. It’s a small bore, a .22, nothing fancy, the kind folks used to call a “barber” gun back in the day, maybe because they were common or simple, who knows. Wasn’t really about needing it, more about needing a project, something for my hands to do, you know? Life felt a bit messy, like that closet corner, and I figured cleaning up one mess might help with the other.
This thing belonged to my uncle. He wasn’t much of a talker, but he kept his tools clean. Handed it down years ago, and I just… stored it. Seeing it again, covered in dust, felt a bit wrong. He took pride in his stuff. So, I thought, okay, let’s bring it back.
The Cleanup Job
First thing, I laid out some old newspaper on the workbench. Took the whole thing apart, piece by piece. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d remember how to put it back together. Found a surprising amount of gunk inside the action. It wasn’t rust, thankfully, just old oil turned sticky and collecting dust bunnies.
The process was simple, really, but took time:
- Took it all apart: Every screw, every pin. Laid them out in order so I wouldn’t lose track. That was important.
- Scrubbed everything: Used some basic solvent, old toothbrushes, and plenty of rags. Got into all the little corners. The barrel needed a good few passes with the cleaning rod.
- Checked for wear: Looked over each part. The firing pin looked okay, springs still felt strong. The wooden stock had a few scratches, but nothing major. Character, I guess.
- Oiled it up: Just a light coat of gun oil on the metal bits after they were clean and dry. Didn’t want to overdo it.
Finding the right screwdriver bits for some of those old screws was probably the hardest part. Modern kits don’t always have those thin, flat heads anymore. Had to rummage through an old toolbox left by my dad.
Putting It Back Together
Reassembly was slower. Went piece by piece, checking how things fit. Dropped a tiny spring once, spent ten minutes crawling on the floor looking for it. Felt like an idiot, but found it. That satisfying click when the bolt slid back into place smooth as butter? That felt good. Really good.
Wiped down the stock with some wood polish. Those scratches didn’t disappear, but the wood got its shine back. Looked respectable again.
End Result?
It’s clean now. Looks like a tool someone cared about. Haven’t even fired it yet, maybe take it to the range next weekend. But that wasn’t really the point. The point was doing it. Taking something neglected and giving it attention. Felt like I cleaned out a little corner of my own head too, working on that simple, straightforward task. Sometimes you just need to fix something small to feel like you’ve got a handle on things, you know?
Yeah, that old barber small bore. It’s just a .22 rifle, but spending that afternoon bringing it back felt… worthwhile. Simple as that.
