Let’s Talk About Handguns

Vol 4.

Sorry for the month without newsletter content. There was a power outage at the cabin, then that whole coup attempt thing was happening just as Virginia and I got back home. My productivity in January amounted to very little, and I’ve been hustling to get back up to speed since. I’m going to try to crank out a few of these newsletters over the next week or so, to make up for lost time. 

Remember I’m doing this as an attempt to restore a high quality, participative community around my work. Please take part in the comments, or email me if you have any topics you’d like addressed. 

Some developments in my world in the last few weeks are that Nate and I started shooting our little web show again (please send me any ideas you may want to see for episodes), and we’ve begun making long-term travel plans again, in the hope that vaccines will put this pandemic behind us by mid-summer. Chris Brinlee Jr. and I are headed to Alaska at the beginning of August in order to enjoy some quality bro time, while attempting to arrow a couple of caribou, and Virginia and I are hoping to visit Mexico again no later than next fall. 

For this newsletter, let’s talk about guns. Specifically my Glock 20, which you’ll see riding on my hip or chest most times I’m outdoors. I get a lot of questions about guns in general, and this one in particular. Part of that is because I’m probably one of the few very visible personalities that exists in the mainstream space that routinely carries a gun, and maybe also because my normal person background feels relatable to other normal people who may happen to be gun-curious. 

Why Carry A Gun At All? 

My politics are obviously very liberal, and I write mostly for publications that target educated, gainfully-employed adults. Not the kind of people typically courted by right wing media outlets. And not the audience the gun industry has pivoted towards in the last few decades. Because the National Rifle Association has been so successful at making itself synonymous with the second amendment, while at the same time making itself such an utterly loathsome organization, gun ownership has transformed from something that was once just a normal part of American life, into something that now feels alien or even repulsive to many people. So, this is a question I get a lot, often in the form of a derogatory comment, or a suggestion that I live a fear-based existence. Let me tell you about the incident that convinced me I needed to start carrying a gun, and hopefully shed some light on the why in all this. 

I didn’t grow up in a gun owning family, and learned to shoot in Boy Scouts, while earning my rifle shooting merit badges. I spent the second half of my childhood in Europe, where you can’t really own guns, then lived in London, New York and Los Angeles as an adult—also places where gun ownership just isn’t normal. Throughout all of that I was very active outdoors, doing exciting things in dangerous places, and even experienced the kind of crime that is normal in big cities. I’m obviously privileged in being able to say this, but as a large, strong white man, nothing ever happened where I thought I’d have been better off with a gun. Until it did. 

While living in LA, about eight years ago, I took Wiley on his first solo backpacking trip. We hiked about 10 miles from the car on the first day, then set up camp near a backcountry hot spring that typically draws heavy traffic, but which we had entirely to ourselves this time. It was getting close to dark, so I started collecting firewood while Wiley explored. 

I forget exactly how old he was, but do remember his size—no more than 30 or 40 pounds. Walking back to camp from a stand of trees, with arms full of wood, I noticed Wiley tearing towards me at top speed, tail firmly between his legs. I was about to make fun of him when I noticed the thing he was afraid of—a big ol’ mountain lion, running at full speed about 100 yards behind him. I was a ways from Wiley still, so dropped the wood, and started sprinting towards him. That put the lion and me on intercepting paths. He wasn’t slowing down, so I continued on past Wiley, shouting and waving my hands in the air. The lion didn’t seem to care until we were about 10 yards from each other, at which point he slammed on the brakes and stood his ground. 

I grabbed Wiley, clipped his leash to my belt, and watched the lion slink off into the woods. My gut feeling was that he wasn’t going far, so I got a fire going before it went full dark, and made sure I had plenty of wood to get me through the night. 

Mountain lion behavior in California had gotten screwy in recent years. A hunting ban passed in the ‘90s allowed populations to grow, then the still-ongoing draught dried up the populations of rabbits and deer they typically live on. That pushed them down out of the mountains, into the wildlife urban interface, and created conflicts with humans. Before this trip, I’d previously run a lion out of camp that was scavenging trash, and had seen a few of them around while backpacking. Neither behavior—eating trash, or allowing humans to see them—is considered typical or healthy. I’d imagine the popular, typically crowded nature of the place we were camping this time had accustomed this tom to the presence of humans, and maybe even taught him to associate our presence with food. 

In a display of also very uncharacteristic behavior, the lion that chased Wiley spent the rest of the night prowling through the wood around camp, occasionally coming with 40 or 50 yards of us. A thick bed of dry, crunchy oak leaves made it easy to keep tabs on him, and the little creek we’d camped on gave me a source of wet rocks I could throw in the fire so they’d explode, and scare him back into the woods any time he came close. It was a long, sleepless night. 

We hightailed it 10 miles further the next day, then spent two fun nights at another, less known hot spring further into the mountains. In order to skip the lion’s territory, I decided to hike all 20 miles back to the car in one go on the fourth day. 

On the way out, I came around a corner in the trail to find a grizzled old mountain man wearing not much more than a pair of daisy dukes, petting Wiley. He seemed nice, so we sat in the shade and polished off the rest of my whiskey together. He explained that he lived up there full time, surviving on food he could forage or catch, and stuff he stole from campers. He pulled a brand new hatchet and hardshell out of his bag to show off, while telling me that he only tried to steal from people that looked like they could afford it. After he’d gotten some more whiskey in him, he had me pull out my map, and showed me where I could find a good fishing hole, where the cartel’s weed grows were, and explained which ones were guarded and which ones weren’t. When we parted ways, he told me I should bring a few girls with me the next time I visited his mountain range. 

The mountain man wasn’t scary, but meeting him did highlight that, since I spent so much time so far away from civilization, it might be a good idea equip myself with the ability to handle bad actors on my own. Particularly if I brought friends along with me. The mountain lion was scary, and highlighted that I could encounter threats outdoors that I might not be able to bullshit my way out of. I bought the Glock a few weeks later. 

What Do I Carry And Why?

I don’t have a professional background in firearms. I am a professional journalist, which has given me access to, and taught me to learn from real experts. Handguns are a system composed of the weapon itself, what you run through it, how you aim it, and how you carry it. I’ve arrived at my solution with advice from friends like Griff, a retired Army Ranger Captain, through various shooting classes I’ve taken, random YouTube videos put together by vetbros, and what experience I’ve been able to build on my own. Because I consider this an important piece of lifesaving gear, just like I do my first aid kit, I’ve spared no expense and no effort. To the best of my knowledge and ability, this represents the best possible solution for self defense outdoors. 

The Gun: It’s a gen 3 Glock 20 SF. A full-size 10mm, polymer framed, striker-fired semi auto originally developed for Danish special forces soldiers to carry while conducting ski patrols in Greenland, for the purpose of protection against polar bears. It’s simple, robust, and strikes a good balance between being easy to carry, and being large and heavy enough that it can soak up recoil. 

The Caliber: 10mm Auto was originally developed by the legendary Jeff Cooper (who also defined the four rules of firearms safety, and developed modern handgun combat techniques). It’s supposed to be a faster, more modern alternative to .45 ACP that can be carried in higher capacity magazines, and which will penetrate further. Unlike rifle bullets, which kill by transferring energy to their target, generating hydrostatic shock that obliterates surrounding organs, handguns kills by poking holes. The deeper those holes are, the more important stuff they’ll impact, and the more holes there are the higher your odds are of hitting that important stuff. No handgun caliber, no matter how large, will ever approach the effectiveness of a rifle round. All handgun calibers are a compromise between capacity, power, and shootability. The 10mm is easy to shoot, allows for 15 round magazines in standard-size pistol grips, and is powerful enough to penetrate the skull or rib cages of large, dangerous animals like brown bears.

The Ammo: Outdoors, I run 220 grain hardcast lead alloy Buffalo Bore, which is widely considered the hottest commercially-available 10mm round. Hardcast bullets do not expand when they collide with a target, and are designed with a flat nose that crushes and tears hard objects like bone. Together, those features maximize penetration. That makes that round maximally effective against living targets—again, handgun rounds kill through penetration and subsequent blood loss. When you’re in civilization though, you have to be very careful about over penetration. In a home defense scenario, for instance, a bullet capable of penetrating two layers of dry wall could cause a tragic accident. So, at home, or in the truck, I run jacketed hollowpoint bullets. It doesn’t really matter which ones. Those are designed to stop inside a target, or inside a standard residential interior wall. At the range, a key advantage of the Glock 20 is that it can cycle .40 S&W flawlessly. Because that’s duty ammo at many law enforcement agencies, it’s cheap. And the heavy frame of the Glock 20 just eliminates recoil when it’s shooting .40. I’ve got thousands of rounds of cheap .40 FMJ through this thing, and have never suffered a malfunction. 

Recoil Spring: While the Glock 20 can cycle light .40 flawlessly, it is said to struggle to with the really hot 10mm stuff. So, the first modification I made to this gun was a heavier Lone Wolf recoil spring, which is designed to control the cycle of the slide with the forces generated by more powerful rounds. I have had one stovepipe malfunction while running Buffalo Bore along with the new spring, but think it was caused by too light a grip on the gun, not mechanical failure. .40 still runs fine with the stiffer spring; it’s all I use. 

Trigger: I use a Ghost Inc trigger connector, which reduces weight to 3.5 pounds with a drop in modification it takes seconds to fit. It’s still a gritty Glock trigger, but that feels a lot less bad at lighter weights, and going with the connector over more elaborate modifications means I don't have to worry about reliability. 

Grip: Stock Glock grips are terribly slick. Because I have big hands, I didn’t need to have the grip reduced at all, and actually prefer the texture of the rubber Talon grip wraps to stipling. This thing provides reassuring traction for bare hands and gloves, even if they’re wet. 

Sights: I replaced the standard, very shitty, Glock sights with Trijicon HD night sights a couple of years ago. Those were great for iron sights, and glowed in the dark nicely. But, I’m never going to be the best handgun shooter out there, and wanted to take my speed and accuracy a step further in the real world circumstances where I need this gun to work. So, I just replaced those sights with a Trijicon RMR Type 2 red dot sight. That projects a 3.25 MOA dot onto a piece of glass, which you align with the point of impact. Parallax free, the dot points where the pistol shoots even if you have both eyes open, if you’re working quickly. It also allows you to remain focussed on the target, or whatever else, instead of the front sight. Again, that should aid speed, and situational awareness, while maximizing accuracy. A red dot won’t fit a standard slide. Rather than opt for a fitment plate and the larger, taller foot print that brings, I opted to send my slide off to be milled specifically for the Trijicon. Online reviews led me to Battle Werx, which turned the job around in only three weeks. The sight fits the milling with absolute precision. There is no wobble, and no give anywhere. At the same time, I had Battle Werx fit a set of Ameriglo 1/3 co-witness suppressor sights. Those remain visible in the bottom third of the red dot sight window, serving as a backup should the battery fail or sight otherwise malfunction at the worst possible time. 

Barrel: A lot of people on the Internet will tell you that Glock’s stock barrel, with its polygonal rifling, will foul if you run hardcast bullets. I’m pretty good about cleaning my guns, and have detected no fouling to-date. Buffalo Bore also claims the alloy it uses for its bullets will not foul stock barrels. I see the loose tolerances of the stock barrel as a feature, allowing the gun to easily cycle a variety of ammunition with absolute reliability. That’s why I’ve avoided fitting a higher quality aftermarket barrel—I worry the tighter tolerances could make it particular about what type of ammunition you run. Everything from mild .40 S&W JHP defense rounds, to cheap .40 FMJ, to every variety of 10mm JHP, FMJ, and hardcast I’ve put through this thing has shot just fine through the standard barrel. 

Holsters: I’ve tried a bunch, and now have a regular rotation of two (plus a wildcard), that I really like. Because backpacks and clothing layers can obscure your belt, wearing the gun on your chest, under your pack and over your layers, is probably a better solution through most outdoor activities. I love the Gunfighters Inc Kenai chest holster in that role. But, the chest holster just screams “I’ve got a gun!” In a way that’s visibly disturbing if you wear it around non-gun people. So, even here in Montana, I try and run a normal belt holster any time I don’t have a pack or winter layers on. I’ve used a Craft Holsters leather retention holster for years, and love it. A little bit of practice integrates breaking the retention button as you grip the gun; I’m as fast with this thing as I am with my Blade Tech range holster. But, go backpacking someplace like California, where guns are very rare, and even having one on your belt may bother other people. For that environment, I use a Wilderness Tactical Safepacker. It probably triples if not quadruples my draw cycle, but conceals the gun plus a spare magazine in an innocuous looking package that fits onto most backpack waist straps, or any belt. I also use a Wilderness Tactical Instructor belt with my leather holster. 

The closest I’ve come to having to kill anything with this gun is holding it over a bear’s head, and letting two shots loose to scare it off. But, with training and practice, it adds an immense amount of confidence as I continue to do dangerous stuff outdoors in exciting places. I showed a lifetime local who does SAR work in the area my elk hunting spot the other day. He told me “You’ve got some serious stones to be hunting in there,” given the amount of grizzly bears that particular drainage holds. I don’t think I have stones of abnormal proportions, I just think I’ve prepared myself as strongly as possible for the eventuality of a bear attack. The gun is just one part of that approach.