Ugly guns that I have known
I have come to cleanse my outdoor writer’s soul at the altar of the gun. Dare I say, confess my sins of the gun flesh. I am here to purge some of the most egregious faux pas of gun buying that can be recounted. Most of us have admittedly owned a couple of guns that we were not particularly proud of. However, the guns to which I refer (and sometimes fondly so) are in a special category akin to riding a moped next to a Harley Davidson full dresser. We’re talking really ugly guns.
Now, for the sake of argument, I am going to stipulate that Glocks don’t factor into this discussion because no matter how ugly the Glock really is, its utilitarian nature and reliability far outweigh its cosmetic shortcomings. That, and the fact that I trust my life to the Glock platform in my law enforcement pursuits speaks volumes. We’ve all heard the question, “If you could pick any actor to play you, in a movie about your life, who would it be?” Because no Hollywood movie executives are knocking down my door, I thought I’d throw this zinger in for fun. My choice would be Ed Harris, by the way. If I were a gun, I’d like to think of myself as a Glock. Understated. Sort of tough. Not particularly attractive. Reliable. Dependable. Easy to use, disassemble, clean and has countless add-ons. But let’s return to the subject at hand: ugly guns.
The ugliest gun that I can admit to ever owning is a Taurus, Poly Public Defender. For starters, it is green. I put an oversized set of rubber grips that make the piece look like a heavy handled rhinoceros. For all intent and purpose, the gun is fairly useless. The Poly Public Defender comes with a snub-nosed length barrel. It shoots both .410 offerings in birdshot, buck shot variants and slugs as well as handling the .45 Long Colt. I bought it on the premise that I’d use it on snakes, not that I have been attacked by many in recent history. Over the years I have softened on my opinion of snakes and we generally agree to leave each other alone. I’ve never actually shot at a snake with this revolver and don’t have plans on making war with the snake population. I have this romantic notion of carrying my Warthog, as I affectionately refer to it these days, as my mountain gun. This particular pistol has also been billed as an “anti-car-jacking platform.” I’m not really sure what that means, but suffice to say that any firearm in the hands of a competent shooter could be labeled an “anti-car-jacking platform.” At best, this gun is a test of toxic masculinity and is simply not very comfortable to shoot. I cannot, however, bring myself to part with it although it is obtusely large in size, serves no real earthly purpose and might cause me to have to attend a gun writers anonymous meeting in the near future.
My second addition to the ugly gun club is a 20-inch barreled, 12-gauge Stoeger Coach Gun. It is overly short, handles like an overloaded U-Haul and possesses all the aesthetic beauty of an Edsel. I make no apologies for owning this handy little gem. It is my primary “go to” in defense of our chicken coop. I fancy the little street Howitzer as a Dock Holiday-esque addition to my little ugly gun club. Many of our laying hen’s lives have been spared via the Coach Gun. Racoons beware when the Coach Gun is lifted from the rack and hoisted into action. In all honesty, I like the way the stubby little double feels between the hands and one can’t question the fact that it shoots extremely well for its intended purpose of close-range work. Any field shotgun would serve the same purpose but few could pull this duty with such class.
Another member of the ugly gun club is any member of the Hi-Point pistol family. I have never actually owned a Hi-Point but have shot numerous models owned by friends. Before some disgruntled reader sends me a nasty gram in defense of their Hi-Point beauty, I get it. They’re cheap, retailing around $200. They go bang. They are not bad shooters. But they are ugly as sin. More or less, the Hi-Point pistol looks like a black snake wrapping itself around a hunk of railroad track. I’m not suggesting that anyone go out and get rid of their Hi-Point because of its looks. I’m just saying that they aren’t going to win any beauty contests.
These are just three of the specimens with which I have opened up the discussion on ugly guns. I am curious to learn of other such hideous examples lurking in gun cabinets across the tri-county area. Maybe you’ll share some of your own shameful exemplars with me. I look forward to hearing from you.