I bet you’ve never read a column like this from any other gun’riter. We’re all supposed to be superlative shots, experts on all facets of firearms, never miss a game animal, and just plain all around never-make-a-mistake kind of guys.

We’re human just like everyone else, perhaps just more focused on a certain subject than most people. And we certainly are capable of making mistakes, sometimes costly ones. Hopefully we learn from them.

All that said, the fact is I have ruined some guns. Not many, and in fact some of them were repairable back to the condition they were in before I goofed. I’ll start with the most minor one first. Back about 1994 a package arrived at my door in which was a Colt Custom Shop Peacemaker: a .45 with 4-3/4" barrel and unusual full-blue finish. On the backstrap my name was engraved. That beauty was a gift from my good friend Hank Williams Jr. and, when I had it factory lettered, it showed it had indeed been ordered by him with my name inscribed on it.

Then shortly thereafter I nearly wrecked it forever. I was in a big hurry to make a deadline and needed to chronograph a couple of .45 Colt handloads. On my bench were cans of Hodgdon’s Universal Clays and Clays. Meaning to grab the former I mistakenly used the latter — a much faster burning propellant. The first two shots fired over the chronograph screens were noticeably hot, so I attempted to extract the empty cases. They were so hard to get out of the chambers I had to pound on the ejector rod with a wooden mallet to get them loose. Sure enough those two chambers were bulged, and I’m lucky the whole cylinder didn’t let go and take the topstrap with it. I called the Colt Custom Shop, made arrangements to send the Peacemaker back to them and when it was returned there was a new cylinder complete with correct serial number. I got off easy on that deal.