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I have always associated the smell of Hoppes with fun times. Generations of shooters have cleaned their guns with this stuff. I've used it after those long pleasant hours spent target shooting at our local range, and after a successful hunt, where I have cleaned the rifle in white canvas tents set in mountain wilderness or on the tailgate of my truck, before I drove to the butcher with an elk or deer. This smell has always meant relaxation and happiness. But this time, it meant I had to get to work, and this would be a work I might not survive, much less enjoy. So this was less fun and far more serious.

I had the rifle field stripped, parts spread out on newspaper on the workbench in a five car garage set beside the main house. I hadn't shot this one in quite a while, having concentrated for years on the hunting rifles, when going hunting meant stalking game instead of men. But I figured I should familiarize myself with this rifle again, for it was much better suited for this new challenge than those pretty hunting rifles. It functioned just fine on the range that morning, and I was hitting what I aimed at, so that part worked out. It took a bit of trial and error to field strip the weapon, for I had not done this in years, but it all came back to me after I finally remembered how to remove the bolt.

Cleaning rod and patches, toothbrush and old rags, and good ole Hoppes, and the thing was clean. Some gun oil and the requisite reassembly, and it was ready to go. I wiped down the outside so my hands wouldn't slip ...

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