Flat Creek Trading

It was a rainy and dreary day today as I cruised down the highway towards the Flat Creek Debate Society. Cussin' Bob had told me that a member had a 1911 he wanted to trade off. From Bob's description, it sounded like a Sistema. I'm not really in the market for another Sistema, but I forged ahead anyway, knowing that if a deal was not struck, the company would still be good.

When I arrived 43 miles later, I found the Debate Society solving the world's problems around a fire in a huge steel pit. A hog was smoking and veggies and a taco salad were on the grill as well. Five or six members were separating fact from bullshit via the Socratic method as they tried to avoid smoke from the flames. A couple of curmudgeons were grousing about the weather and other topics of distain. Several wet dogs were curled up by the fire.

One of the members, Bud, brought a cardboard box out of his truck and opened it to reveal a Colt Sistema from Interarms. Bud was really wanting a .38 snubbie to tote around. Unfortunately I do not have a .38 snub I am willing to let go for another Sistema. I had brought along a S&W Model 60 just in case Bud had pulled out a M1911 or M1911A1. My Model 60 stayed in the Jeep.

A couple of queries were made as to just what this pistol was, and I explained how the Sistema came to be. Surprisingly, nobody at the debate society wanted to debate that. I guess I was the designated gun historian of the hour.

Bud asked how much I thought his gun was worth. I told him honestly it would be sold at retail for between $350 and 450, but if he tried to sell it to a dealer he could expect $200 tops. I explained to Bud that I already had two Sistemas, and I revealed my carry gun to show him and Bob what a Sistema could become. I told Bud all I could offer him was $240.

We set a few cans out and shot our pistols, as the others stayed circled around the fire. The Interarms Sistema shot reliably, but was not very accurate. My Sistema, with a Wilson barrel and bushing, drilled the cans with precision.

After we rejoined the group, Cussin' Bob wandered over and asked me if I was interested in Bud's gun. I told Bob that I wasn't interested at the price Bud deserved to get. Bob asked me if I would work it over for him, I told him certainly. Bob wandered over and slipped Bud $300 for his pistol. Bud was happy. Bob was happy. I was happy.

We ate some hog and taco salad, debated the location of Bin Laden, the ulterior motives of Iran, and whether Paris Hilton's personae is an act or reality. None of the world's mysteries or problems were solved this afternoon, but several men went home with full bellies, feeling better about it all. That is good enough.