Of Triggers and Sights
Working together as a team
Pushing through November alders for a quick poke at moose,
you want a trigger forgiving of poor footing and incidental contact
branches, one stiff enough to feel with a cold-numbed finger.
A borrowed DCM .22 was my entry to competitive shooting. Its trigger may have pulled a couple of pounds and seemed welded in place as the sight bounced about the black scoring rings like a fly on a buttered skillet. No matter how hard I wished it gone, the bullet refused to leave until that trigger moved. Many rifles later, triggers still wait while sight pictures deteriorate.
Remington optimistically fitted its Model 37 target rifle with a “Miracle Trigger.” Prone matches proved it held no magic. “It’s a miracle you can manage it,” smirked competitors with the jack in their jeans to buy better — a Kenyon trigger, for example. One of them brought a scale to a match and weighed triggers. As I recall, variation in the Miracle Trigger’s break weight was greater than the pull of the trigger next to it on the line! Still, over time, I managed.
Too Easy?
A light trigger allows you to fire without moving the rifle. Presumably you add pressure when the sight picture is perfect and don’t apply more than necessary. Jerking a light trigger has much the same effect as jerking a stiff one. One of my prone-match pals had a rifle whose trigger was so finely made, it could be adjusted to fire of its own weight. That is, you could fire the rifle without touching the trigger simply by easing the muzzle skyward.
The problem with such a trigger or even one that registers a couple of ounces resistance, is that you dare not touch it until you want the bullet gone. Your finger gets no rest floating about, held off the trigger by muscles that tire. A hunting rifle’s trigger must let you feel it firmly, not only for deliberate shots but for urgent ones, from improvised firing positions when you’re excited, frightened, on poor footing and your hand is gloved or cold.
Carefully crushing a trigger breaking at 8 oz., you can fire a 10-lb. target rifle without moving it with your finger. Of course, unless solidly benched, the rifle can still move to the bounce of your pulse or the twitch of a shoulder muscle. Heavier triggers on lighter rifles put movement into your sight picture from the trigger squeeze alone. I’ve fired 6-lb. rifles with 6-lb. triggers. Which moves first?
Applying 6 lbs. of pressure with one finger, your body brings other muscles to bear, affecting your position and its forces on the rifle. Even tripping a 3-lb. trigger, you’ll engage forearm and pectoral muscles.
Powerful scopes show how even a careful tug on a light trigger can move the rifle. Rifle shake isn’t so obvious through the low-power glass I prefer for big game, or with metallic sights. We tolerate or dismiss the pre-shot shudder of the sight against big targets if it doesn’t affect results. Not long ago I shot a Cape buffalo offhand as it came. My Mauser wasn’t steady, but at 15 steps, gopher-eye precision was less important than speed.
Besides bearing the weight of a ready finger, double rifle triggers must also have the sear engagement and resistance to prevent an inadvertent follow-up, either from the jar of the first shot or the incidental brush of the finger during recoil. On rifles for mountain game, triggers with some starch make sense under chilled fingers.
The best hunting trigger ever? The Winchester 70 trigger
is stout, simple and reliable, if not easy to adjust.
Tale Of The Scale
Having long intended to adjust triggers to best match their rifles’ tasks, I weighed a few of mine recently, bringing the roster to 25 with borrowed rifles also equipped to hunt.
The results surprised me. A handful of triggers broke near the 3-lb. mark commonly thought appropriate on hunting rifles — compliant but “safe.” But many were significantly lighter or heavier. Most were reasonably consistent, repeating within a range of 3 or 4 oz. Take-up varied among the triggers; military pulls were predictably long. Placement of the scale’s hook mattered. On traditional triggers, the hook settles at the deepest part of the curve, where shooters typically press. On the straight trigger of the S&W 1854, the scale registered 6 lbs. at mid-point, but under 5 at the terminal bend. Three cheers for leverage.
Perceived trigger weight, like felt recoil, depends how and where the rifle contacts you and how well it complies with your shooting position. A broad trigger spreads pressure and can feel lighter than a thin one of the same resistance. A rifle’s wrist giving your trigger hand lots of comfy support reduces the effort in firing a shot and can make the trigger seem lighter.
Unadjusted pulls on the military Mauser and SMLE rifles seemed as challenging as the scale indicated. But the rifles’ heft, and the long, spongy trigger travel left the sights near if not on the target. While light triggers should yield like delicate icicles, a squishy take-up helps me control the rifle as pressure builds to a 7-lb. break.
The weights of some of these triggers defy logic. A 7mm-08 Weatherby is a supremely accurate rifle and bears a bit of a curse with a 4 ½ lb. trigger. So too the Ruger Hawkeye. A last-day moose wilted to that lightweight rifle at 90 yards. But moose are big, and I’d flopped to earth to snake the bullet under limbs so I had good support. Trigger weight didn’t matter much.
You could say dangerous-game bolt rifles with metallic sights merit trigger pulls heavier than the sub-3-lb. pulls on my .416 and .458. A light trigger might trip under clenched hands in an exciting moment or in an urgent sprint through thorn. But I was pretty excited scrambling through forest slash to catch a big elk with my nimble Springfield in .30-06 Improved. The two shots were quick but controlled.
Beretta’s BXR-1 isn’t lithe or elegant but the 2.2-lb. trigger
on a sample rifle revealed its fine accuracy, as did Sako loads.
Surprise, Surprise, Surprise!
Most shooters have been told during their apprenticeship that “every shot should come as a surprise.” Well, you don’t want your body tensing or flinching. But most perfect sight pictures are short-lived. You’ll want a pretty fair idea of when during your squeeze the bullet will leave. Getting used to a trigger can be as helpful as tuning it. From the 1870s into the 1950s, exhibition shooters with production-line triggers gave eye-popping performances.
A snappy 2- to 3-lb. trigger on a bolt rifle of ordinary weight suits me. A slow, steady crush to break moves the sight very little in the instant before ignition. Heavier pulls on my lever rifles beg some catch-up time. A very light trigger demands more. There’s not much resistance to the 1 ½ lb. trigger on my Winchester .223. It will send bullets early if I’m not thinking.
Someday I’ll add tension to the Ranger’s trigger spring, perhaps adjust a few others. The effort — and more range time pulling those triggers — will be an investment in better shooting.
A trigger doesn’t help you aim, but it helps ensure you get what you see.
