No Title (that's the title)

"I don't have time to read the *whole internet * every day"

gunrunnerhell:

XRAIL

Magazine fed shotguns like the Saiga 12 have had the advantage of higher capacities due to box and drum mags. The XRAIL is an alternative for those who prefer traditional shotgun designs but want more ammo. Of course the downside is the issue of the shotgun becoming front heavy. Capacity of the XRAIL is 14+1 for the compact and 22+1 for the full size. Not cheap at all, with a MSRP of aorund $650 for the compact, $700 for the full. It will work on several different shotguns, semi or pump. The XRAIL shop will be linked below.

As for reliability issues, so far they seem to run well considering the FNH and Mossberg competition teams both use them. Famed competition shooter Jerry Miculek managed to fire 23 rounds in 3.73 seconds from his Mossberg 930. So far I’ve only seen it on the competition circuits.

Source

worldwiderails:

Ann Arbor Railroad steam-powered wrecking crane 3187 saw more than its fair share of derailments during the late sixties and early seventies. Built by the Bucyrus Company in March 1912, it possessed a lifting capacity of 100 tons and had two 10x12 inches cylinders which powered its hoisting machinery. The Ann Arbor paid $13,675 for the crane and it served the railroad admirably for almost 70 years. Here we see the 3187 hard at work on a beautiful April afternoon cleaning up the aftermath of the April 1st derailment of TF-1, which I’m sure was no April’s Fools joke to the Ann Arbor management. A very dirty Ann Arbor GP35 (391) has been temporarily reassigned from road service to wreck train service since the crane was not self-propelled. (via RailPictures.Net Photo: AA 3187 Ann Arbor Railroad Steam Crane at Hamburg, Michigan by Jim Sinclair)

worldwiderails:

Ann Arbor Railroad steam-powered wrecking crane 3187 saw more than its fair share of derailments during the late sixties and early seventies. Built by the Bucyrus Company in March 1912, it possessed a lifting capacity of 100 tons and had two 10x12 inches cylinders which powered its hoisting machinery. The Ann Arbor paid $13,675 for the crane and it served the railroad admirably for almost 70 years. Here we see the 3187 hard at work on a beautiful April afternoon cleaning up the aftermath of the April 1st derailment of TF-1, which I’m sure was no April’s Fools joke to the Ann Arbor management. A very dirty Ann Arbor GP35 (391) has been temporarily reassigned from road service to wreck train service since the crane was not self-propelled. (via RailPictures.Net Photo: AA 3187 Ann Arbor Railroad Steam Crane at Hamburg, Michigan by Jim Sinclair)

policecars:

McCracken County Sheriff’s Dept., Kentucky

Are they trying to say they have a “Sheriff Train” …you know, to hide on a siding behind a grain elevator and pull over intermodal trains that are speeding???

(via duffy1963)

mralwaysinmotion:

jagneta:

the-mandolineer:

Hey, look. Steampunk with actual steam power for once. This was a quick doodle that I drew up to illustrate how it is possible (and should be preferable) to draw steampunk art without all of the stupid cliches that dominate the genre. My steampunk world actually starts a bit late and across the pond in San Diego, where military influence and a business tycoon’s bank accounts were both booming. Remember that steampunk doesn’t HAVE to be defined by Victorian-era London. In fact, it can be more interesting if it isn’t.
There are no gears in this design. Steam locomotive designers HATED gears because they are fragile, costly, tedious, difficult to maintain (yes, maintenance! Once these things are built, they have to be taken care of or they will no longer work), and not as well-suited to performing certain tasks as a rod linkage. The locomotive design is also not Victorian. As aforementioned, the original engine was designed in H. K. Porter’s loco works in Pittsburgh, PA, so it would follow common practice of American locomotive design and architecture. Designing a steampunk scene around existing architecture, practices, tradition, and cultural influences of other places around the world, like China, Peru, Spain, Switzerland, Italy, etc., can create some amazingly unique art.
While I haven’t drawn the following to prove the point, the engineer/pilot would not wear a top-hat or those goddamned brass goggles. The engineer would dress practically, with some sort of cap, scarf, and heavy overalls and coat for the cold, gloves and boots to protect him from heated metal around the firebox, and since my steampunk era officially starts in 1910 with this machine, he would likely wear slightly more modern aviation goggles than the brass tubular ones that every. single. person at a convention seems to be wearing. A steampunk enthusiast with a gear-adorned top-hat and brass goggles is now as stereotypical and identifiable as a hipster with fake plastic glasses and a Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.
If you’re going to wear brass goggles in the first place, you had better be hauling ass without a windshield. The locomotive pilot would be hauling ass without a windshield, so he would actually need them. Pedestrians walking from their apartment to the local store for a quart of milk would not need to wear brass goggles, unless they are stupid. Steam-powered cars, like the Stanley or White models that actually existed, wouldn’t require goggles as a part of their use because you would be hauling ass with a windshield. I guess young children with toy steam planes could wear brass goggles, but only because they are playing pretend and they aspire to haul ass without a windshield one day when they are grown-ups.
Anyway, back on the subject of steam, you’ll make better steampunk art if you actually study and understand how steam power works, how it’s generated, and how it’s converted to mechanical energy. Here’s how this steamplane works: it was built around the superstructure of what would have been a ideal locomotive at the time: modern, compact, lightweight, yet still very powerful for its size. Steam is generated in the boiler by burning Bunker-C fuel oil (yes, oil and not coal!) because oil is more plentiful and easier to obtain than coal in the southwest. On the ground, steam is directed into the main cylinders which pushes a piston, moving a linkage of drive rods which convert linear motion into circular motion, turning six drive rods. This original form of motion was retained on the modified design so that it could taxi around from the roundhouse to the runway, or “railfield.” When in position at the beginning of the runway, the flow of steam is redirected through a piping system to four steam turbines, which turn four propellers to generate forward motion in the air. From there, the steam is expelled through the horizontal exhaust stacks.
Of course, this design is seriously flawed and all but impossible. The locomotive itself is still far too heavy to be lifted, the props are too small, and the exhausted water vapor (aka steam) is completely unused, limiting the range of this engine, if it even could fly, to about thirty miles or so due to its relatively small water tank. But the system has a design that is at least plausible, if taken with a bit of optimism and whimsy.
But perhaps this locomotive wasn’t meant to work. Perhaps it only fluttered off of the ground for about 50 feet or so. The design would be a failure, but the discovery would be monumental. Engineers would radically modify the design in accordance with their observations: higher boiler pressures, lighter weight, stronger alloys, more efficient and powerful steam turbines, larger props, wider wingspans, and a device to condense expelled steam or water vapor from clouds to increase the range. Soon the second design manages to maintain a stable flight of ten miles. The third maintains twenty. The fourth is airborne for eighty. You see where this is going.
Steampunk should be about mechanical playfulness in creating machines of an almost magical quality, yet science fiction is always the most believable when it stems from science fact. Steam engines themselves are about as close to a living thing as man can create from steel: they breathe and hiss, bark and roar, thundering across the earth under billowing skies. They are wild and beautiful creatures that can be tamed if they are tenderly cared for and well-maintained. Yet in 99% of the steampunk art that I scroll through, not a single reference to steam can be found…why?

Welp. I want a fleet of them. 

Yep this is why I can’t get into steam punk…not enough of this. Steam punk should seriously be called “brass punk” or “wood punk” or “gear punk”, because it’s almost never about actual STEAM. Fortunately videos and animation seem to be better at sticking to the actual “steam” theme (“Wild Wild West”, “Steamboy”, etc.). And yes I’ll also take a fleet of steam-loco-planes.

mralwaysinmotion:

jagneta:

the-mandolineer:

Hey, look. Steampunk with actual steam power for once. This was a quick doodle that I drew up to illustrate how it is possible (and should be preferable) to draw steampunk art without all of the stupid cliches that dominate the genre. My steampunk world actually starts a bit late and across the pond in San Diego, where military influence and a business tycoon’s bank accounts were both booming. Remember that steampunk doesn’t HAVE to be defined by Victorian-era London. In fact, it can be more interesting if it isn’t.

There are no gears in this design. Steam locomotive designers HATED gears because they are fragile, costly, tedious, difficult to maintain (yes, maintenance! Once these things are built, they have to be taken care of or they will no longer work), and not as well-suited to performing certain tasks as a rod linkage. The locomotive design is also not Victorian. As aforementioned, the original engine was designed in H. K. Porter’s loco works in Pittsburgh, PA, so it would follow common practice of American locomotive design and architecture. Designing a steampunk scene around existing architecture, practices, tradition, and cultural influences of other places around the world, like China, Peru, Spain, Switzerland, Italy, etc., can create some amazingly unique art.

While I haven’t drawn the following to prove the point, the engineer/pilot would not wear a top-hat or those goddamned brass goggles. The engineer would dress practically, with some sort of cap, scarf, and heavy overalls and coat for the cold, gloves and boots to protect him from heated metal around the firebox, and since my steampunk era officially starts in 1910 with this machine, he would likely wear slightly more modern aviation goggles than the brass tubular ones that every. single. person at a convention seems to be wearing. A steampunk enthusiast with a gear-adorned top-hat and brass goggles is now as stereotypical and identifiable as a hipster with fake plastic glasses and a Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.

If you’re going to wear brass goggles in the first place, you had better be hauling ass without a windshield. The locomotive pilot would be hauling ass without a windshield, so he would actually need them. Pedestrians walking from their apartment to the local store for a quart of milk would not need to wear brass goggles, unless they are stupid. Steam-powered cars, like the Stanley or White models that actually existed, wouldn’t require goggles as a part of their use because you would be hauling ass with a windshield. I guess young children with toy steam planes could wear brass goggles, but only because they are playing pretend and they aspire to haul ass without a windshield one day when they are grown-ups.

Anyway, back on the subject of steam, you’ll make better steampunk art if you actually study and understand how steam power works, how it’s generated, and how it’s converted to mechanical energy. Here’s how this steamplane works: it was built around the superstructure of what would have been a ideal locomotive at the time: modern, compact, lightweight, yet still very powerful for its size. Steam is generated in the boiler by burning Bunker-C fuel oil (yes, oil and not coal!) because oil is more plentiful and easier to obtain than coal in the southwest. On the ground, steam is directed into the main cylinders which pushes a piston, moving a linkage of drive rods which convert linear motion into circular motion, turning six drive rods. This original form of motion was retained on the modified design so that it could taxi around from the roundhouse to the runway, or “railfield.” When in position at the beginning of the runway, the flow of steam is redirected through a piping system to four steam turbines, which turn four propellers to generate forward motion in the air. From there, the steam is expelled through the horizontal exhaust stacks.

Of course, this design is seriously flawed and all but impossible. The locomotive itself is still far too heavy to be lifted, the props are too small, and the exhausted water vapor (aka steam) is completely unused, limiting the range of this engine, if it even could fly, to about thirty miles or so due to its relatively small water tank. But the system has a design that is at least plausible, if taken with a bit of optimism and whimsy.

But perhaps this locomotive wasn’t meant to work. Perhaps it only fluttered off of the ground for about 50 feet or so. The design would be a failure, but the discovery would be monumental. Engineers would radically modify the design in accordance with their observations: higher boiler pressures, lighter weight, stronger alloys, more efficient and powerful steam turbines, larger props, wider wingspans, and a device to condense expelled steam or water vapor from clouds to increase the range. Soon the second design manages to maintain a stable flight of ten miles. The third maintains twenty. The fourth is airborne for eighty. You see where this is going.

Steampunk should be about mechanical playfulness in creating machines of an almost magical quality, yet science fiction is always the most believable when it stems from science fact. Steam engines themselves are about as close to a living thing as man can create from steel: they breathe and hiss, bark and roar, thundering across the earth under billowing skies. They are wild and beautiful creatures that can be tamed if they are tenderly cared for and well-maintained. Yet in 99% of the steampunk art that I scroll through, not a single reference to steam can be found…why?

Welp. I want a fleet of them. 

Yep this is why I can’t get into steam punk…not enough of this. Steam punk should seriously be called “brass punk” or “wood punk” or “gear punk”, because it’s almost never about actual STEAM. Fortunately videos and animation seem to be better at sticking to the actual “steam” theme (“Wild Wild West”, “Steamboy”, etc.). And yes I’ll also take a fleet of steam-loco-planes.

(via graflex)

…where rails cross like this is called a diamond.

…where rails cross like this is called a diamond.

(via morecoolstuff)