The recent MS E3 conference made me want to shoot myself.If that godforsaken riverboat sequence had gone on for one second longer, my first experience firing my SKS would have been in an act of violent suicide. That's all I can really say about this travesty.

So, yeah...I made another firearms purchase. And, surprise surprise, it's a Soviet surplus military rifle.

This is a 1958 Russian manufactured (would I settle for anything else?) Siminov carbine. Popularly known as the SKS, this semi-automatic rifle was a stop-gap for the Red Army while it geared itself for the adoption of the AK-47 after ditching the obsolete bolt-action Mosin Nagant. The SKS...honestly looks like the love-child of the two aforementioned weapons. Look at that front gas system and tell me that doesn't look like an AK's. It shoots the 7.62x39 round, made famous after being the chosen type of ammunition for the AK-47. To give you an idea of just how different this round is from the 7.62x54r that my Nagant fires, I has provided pics. the 7.62x39 is on the left, with the 7.62x54r on the right.

Yeah...not exactly a subtle difference.

The SKS cost me a pretty penny. While I was able to obtain my pristine Mosin Nagant for $65, this one ran me $400. Why so high? Well, the Russian-made SKSs are quite a bit harder to find than the much more common Chinese Type 56 copies. Norinco continued to make SKS rifles long after the Izhevsk and Tula factories in the Soviet Union ceased production. In fact, they're STILL making these things today. The result was a total saturation of Chinese-made SKSs. As is the case with just about any Chinese product that was copied, A Norinco SKS has a significantly inferior build to it. The metal is not as pure, the wood has often been reported to rot in humid climates and warp after repeated firing etc. etc. All in all, the Russian SKS is of much greater quality, and is harder to find...hence a higher pricetag. But, as you people who frequent the GUFU IRC know, I take my guns seriously, and I won't settle for second best. I've yet to fire Nadya (she didn't come with a gas-piston, essential for the semi-auto mechanism :( ), but that should change soon. For now, she will sit proudly beneath Aleksandra on my wall mounts next to the very computer I am writing this from. :)

...of guns in my collection. :oops:

Today, I finally acquired a piece of Soviet history to accommodatemy AK. Ladies and gentlemen...my baby.

A Mosin Nagant M1891/30 rifle. This thing was the most mass-produced weapon in the Soviet army until the AK-47 was officially adopted. Simple, rugged, and firing the powerful 7.62 x 54mm cartridge, it's an absolute ****c. Copies were manufactured in nearly a dozen other countries, including China, Hungary, Romania, Polan, the United States ( :shock: ), Turkey, North Korea etc. etc. This means that it's kinda hard to get the real deal. If you know me though, I don't settle for copy-cats. Here's why I got this rifle;

Hammer and sickle emblem is clearly visible on the top of the bolt receiver. This is the real deal, ladies and gents. And to make the find even more awesome, check that date right below it. I wonder if it saw action.

The rifle also came with period cleaning kit and tools, and, to my amazement, the original bayonet. Oh, and did I mention this cost me all about $65? God bless America...

Everyone has a 'hell naw' moment every once in a while. It's usually when someone sees/hears something so utterly out of the question that the aforementioned statement just HAS to be said aloud before you give whatever it was that made you say it the finger as you head the opposite direction. For me, my 'hell naw' moment came in the form of getting in my car to attend my morning classes, pulling out of the driveway, rounding the corner....and seeing something akin to this.

The holy phrase was yelled, my Honda Pilot did a 180, and I went home.

What was YOUR latest 'hell naw' moment?

If Satan had kids, I know exactly what they would be and what they would look like.

(NOT a picture of my mouth)

Canker sores, cold sores, mouth ulcer...whatever you call these blight upon humanity, they hurt like a mother. And the worst part is, they're almost always caused by some object, say, a tooth or a chip piece, piercing the mucous membrane of the mouth and exposing that portion to the elements. That means that wherever you have one of these white, oral halos sees alot of activity (as in, stuff going against that area). So, if you got a mouth ulcer, chances are you're gonna be cringing for the next two weeks it's there. They're like concave whitehead zits...that ooze agony and pain constantly. Oh, and if you try and pop 'em, you'll probably want to die after you realize how much of mistake it was to attempt such a thing. Like, literally die. God, I hate these goddamned things.

Wow, first blog post in...how long now?

Know what sucks? Not having a reason to get out of bed in the morning. I mean, literally NO reason. A man needs purpose in his life, and if you have even just a few days when you don't have any, they're devastating. I think the recent advent of my last non-online friend moving away recently might be a catalyst for this. With that, I have no one to really do anything with, nor do I have anyplace really interesting to go to thanks to the fact that this hick of a town is about as boring as it gets, and it's radically changing into a retirement community. I can't even attend the weekly college social group that meets on Thursdays thanks to my damned job. On the plus side, that means I'll have less to detach from if I move to New Mexico. It also gives me further incentive to do just that as well. I think it's finally gotten to the point where my town literally has nothing left to offer me. I have to get out of here.

I r teh unique and am rebel!!1

Seriously though, I only really liked a few of his songs (Smooth Criminal, Thriller, Don't Stop 'Till You Get Enough) so I don't think I'd be suited making a eulogy blog like so many others are doing. Yes, he was one of the icons of my favorite decade, but the man had been in a decline like a bloody dive-bomber for years prior to his death. Anyways, on with the show.

Those pics are going to have to wait until this evening, or maybe even tonight. The reason; I'm riding yet another narrow-gauge steam train today. In fact, it's a mere 100 miles West of the one I worked on (Cumbres and Toltec) and is a remnant of the same railroad and uses the same locomotives and rolling stock. The scenery on this 45-mile trip from Durango, CO to Silverton, CO is some of the best this nation has to offer.

The trade-off though is that the Durango & Silverton Railroad is not nearly as railfan-friendly as the C&T, prohibiting thing like roaming about their railyard and climbing about even the most unused flatcar in their collection. And God help you if you get within ten feet of one of their operable locomotives. But still, it's gonna be great. I'll just have to supress the urge to bound up to whatever pieces of railroad equipment meet my eye. Or...I could go Sam Fisher on 'em and just do it when no ones looking. Anyone got any night vision goggles?

Well, my work session has ended. It was an unforgettable experience, to say the least. Three days of hard, hard work, but it was all a blast. We got both mile posts painted and ready, and took a speeder (a little four-wheeled, gasoline powered cart that operates on the rails) down the route to install them. Now, the Cumbres and Toltec has remarkable scenery, but you get a whole new perspective seeing it from a totally open speeder going 40mph down the track. Going at that speed, with miles of Rocky Mountain forest stretching as far as you can see, a mere two feet from the edge of a cliff that goes 800 feet down...is nothing short of exhilarating. Naturally, we had to pull into a siding to make way for the daily steam train twice, but it was all worth it to see it coming around the mountain bends, hearing its distant whistle echo eerily through the quiet Rockies. It was even better when it roared and clanked past a mere three feet from where I stood. Actually, I think I should substitute 'better' with 'piss-inducingly terrifying', considering the damned thing literally snuck up on me and I didn't know it was there until it was about ten feet away. I know, I know- "Verg, how in the HELL can a steam locomotive sneak up on anyone!?" I'll explain later in my next blog post. Oh, speaking of which, we'll be seeing just how many pictures a blog post can handle on GS when I post the aforementione blog, which will be as soon as I get a good connection that isn't throttled by whatever ISP the chap we're renting the house from is using.

I just got back from a nine hour work session on the Cumbres and Toltec, becoming a Friends of the C&TS member. What the Friends are, basically, is a group of volunteers from all walks of life and across the world that take on the tasks that the official employees of the railroad don't have the time to handle. Oh, and did I mention we pay $70 each to work there? Yeah, we railfans aren't exactly what most would call...sane. But it's a labor of love in every sense. I came home sore, tired, thirsty, covered in paint, coal soot, grease, and some things I could not identify. But I loved it all, goddammit. My speciifc task was to build and paint mileposts. Now, mileposts on a rialroad are excactly what they sound like; posts that display the miles away from the central hub of the railroad. The central hub of the Rio Grande is long gone, but the C&TS likes things to be as authentic as possible, so the color, size, and original mile numbers are kept intact on any replacements that are placed along the entire 64-mile route. Doesn't sound so bad, right? They're just like those little tin mileage signs you see on the highways. Wrongo. They are eight-foot tall, 18" x 18" thick pieces of solid pine. Freshly cut pine. The term 'heavy' is an understatement. Lifting those SOBs onto the saw-horse so they could be cut and painted was one of the hardest things I've ever done. And I still have two days of work where I have to install the damned things. Two of which need to be placed in the desert portion of the line, which I shall picture below for emphasis.

And yet, i still love it. There are gonna be some picture-heavy blog posts made in the near future.

When your friends only start interacting with you when they need money, it's time to drop 'em like a live hand grenade. So sayeth Advice Puppy.

Anyways, this blog is coming to you via a La Quinta in Santa Fe, and I cannot wait to get to my destination. Two weeks of Colorado bliss, ghost town hunting, steam railroads, and all-around adventure. I've been waiting for this for months. Oh, and the cabin I'm staying in might have *gasp*...Wi-fi! :shock:

Here's to a grand trip.