An affordable clone of Winchester’s revered pre-’64 Model 70, the Montana Rifle is back — and even better!
by Wayne van Zwoll
It was a shorter shot than expected. In fact, if I’d had my druthers, it would have been longer.
We’d been on the track a couple of hours. “We” was really “they.” Trailing a leopard is graduate-level work. I was a rookie compared to the Namibians. From the dead calf, the spoor wound through light bush toward thickets crowning rocky kopjes. The pair of small dogs seemed to lose interest as steel-wool wait-a-bit closed about them. I edged toward a tracker I could not see, narrowing that gap.
His shriek was sudden, urgent; I crashed through the thorn toward it. His arm, pointing, showed through a slot. I followed its line with the rifle’s muzzle, caught a swatch of color in waist-high grass. It came to the sight as a rosette, all I would get. At the .375’s blast, the cat rocketed skyward, twisting about as I slammed the bolt home. “Shoot! Again! Shoot!” yelped the trackers. But the beast had fallen where I couldn’t see. Eleven steps away, it was also dead.
Montana Rifle Company had fitted that rifle with a relatively short stock, whose grip seemed to shrink in my broad hand. But it shot accurately and pointed where I looked when time mattered. It killed a buffalo with twin hits through opposite shoulders as the bull spun. An eland far off allowed me deliberate aim. Staggered by one A-Frame, he wilted to the second. Entry holes were an inch apart.
“How about a .280?” I pitched that idea to Jeff Sipe. In 2007, he’d taken the company reins from his father, Brian, who had designed the Montana 1999. Based on a pre-’64 Winchester Model 70 action, it deviated with an investment-cast receiver. Other changes: side-mounted bolt release, one piece guard, and magazine well. It had a trigger cut by electrical discharge machine (EDM). Also, the breech was like the 1898 Mauser’s, not coned per the Model 70’s. Glassed and pillar-bedded in synthetic stocks, the 1999 retained the 70’s hinged floorplate and non-rotating “controlled-feed” Mauser extractor.
The .280 printed snug groups. Not that it had to. Its first shot afield, at an elk high in Montana’s Ruby Range, came at 60 yards. At the bullet’s strike, the elk spun and labored across-slope, then tumbled, to lie still as dawn’s lemon rays pried low gray clouds off the peaks.
The Montana Rifle Company’s 1999 came in two action lengths and, eventually, 20 chamberings. Even .505 Gibbs! It was an affordable arm, with features dear to discriminating rifle enthusiasts. But the Kalispell-based enterprise met financial headwinds as it struggled to “scale up.” In March, 2020, it closed operations. The barrel-making division sold to Remington.
People from Grace Engineering, a third-generation firm in Memphis, Michigan, saw opportunity. The pre-’64 Winchester 70 was still revered by hunters. The Sipes had designed a rifle functionally and, by some standards, cosmetically its equal. In some respects, it was superior. Montana Rifle Company had manufactured and assembled the 1999’s steel parts. Only stocks had been outsourced. Didn’t this rifle deserve another chance?
Grace Engineering president Matt Grace, and his brother Nate, thought so. Quietly, they acquired the plans and some tooling from Kalispell. Their team thoroughly vetted all components, tweaking some. The result was named for its prototype year: 2022. It appeared at market in 2024 in five chamberings. By early fall, a rifle in 6.5 PRC had found its way to my range. It is the walnut-stocked 2022 “Junction.” The “Highline” has a synthetic McMillan Game Hunter stock. Currently, there are no differences in actions, barrels, and chamberings between these sub-models. Their Cerakote metal finishes alone are distinctive: Midnight Blue for the Junction, Burnt Bronze for the Highline.
The 2022 receiver, machined from a block of 416 stainless steel, has integral Picatinny rails on ring and bridge. The EDM-cut tool-steel trigger, specified to break at 3 pounds, adjusts to 2. Its break on the sample rifle — clean, with minimal over-travel — comes at exactly 3 pounds. The three-position wing safety replicates Winchester’s, as did the Montana 1999’s. The extractor is also a copy, with a beefy claw that accepts each cartridge rim as it rises from the magazine. Grace engineers have also heeded the howls of hunters who’d like to single-load a cartridge on a full stack, effectively boosting the rifle’s capacity by one. Designing the extractor for his Model 1892 rifle, Paul Mauser also saw a need for single-loading — after the magazine was empty in battle. He relieved a place for the extractor nose to spring out enough to hop a cartridge rim. If there’s no relief cut, brawny lads forcing bolts closed on cartridges thumbed ahead stress the claw. The 2022 action boasts “adaptive controlled feed,” so single-loading is easy and humane.
The bolt shank isn’t as long or its knob as big as on early 70s, but they’re well-placed and, praise be, a tad beefier than those on 1999 Montanas. There’s an unexpected “gold” band at the shank’s base. It and the matching trigger are thoughtfully polished just past a matte finish — rich, not glossy. To my eye, the hue is that of cartridge brass. Ordinarily, colored frills on rifles appeal to me about as much as murals of pixies across the bonnets of Porsche 911s. But these gold-brass touches are small, satin, subdued. They distinguish the rifles; and brand recognition matters. I’ve come to accept them as classy.
Pleased the new rifles retain the Model 70’s internal box magazine and hinged floorplate, I wasn’t surprised it also employed the one-piece bottom metal of the 1999 Montana. It’s of alloy on the 2022, and well fitted. Magazines of Montana rifles in 6.5 Cm and .308 hold five cartridges. Capacity of those for the 6.5 PRC, 7mm PRC, and .300 Winchester Magnum is three.
The stainless, threaded barrels on Junction and Highline rifles are button-rifled, hand-lapped, and stress-relieved. They’re 24 inches long for all chamberings except .300 Winchester (26 inches). Light-to-medium in profile, they give the rifles pleasing balance and a nimble appearance while holding overall weight to about 7 pounds. Each barrel shank, with the entire action, is glass bedded; the rest of the barrel floats. A muzzle brake of modest size comes installed. Montana Rifle Company guarantees its barrels to shoot into a minute of angle with factory loads.
The walnut stock on my Junction is of straight grain and nut-brown color. The finish, pleasingly satin in appearance, does not, though, fill the bores. Length of pull is 13 ½ inches over a neatly fitted 1-inch recoil pad — pretty much standard for the industry but a tad short for me. No doubt it’s welcomed by shooters of slighter build, and by barrel-chested stalwarts who avoid crawling stocks and who don’t wear yard-long sleeves. The cheek-piece centers my eye nicely behind a scope in low or medium rings. There’s a Monte Carlo dip behind. Adequate fluting below the comb nose accepts the heel of my hand. The grip brings to mind that on my 1999 Montana: slender to a fault. But it’s of proper length, and the radius from guard to ebony grip cap feels good. Like the fore-stock, it is neatly machine-checkered in a bordered point pattern. Montana Rifle Company has added a flush-fitting, 7 ½-inch rail to the fore-stock’s belly. Of thick alloy, it has four M-LOK slots behind a swivel socket and a properly located QD swivel stud. This feature may prove a boon at market, as all manner of hardware now sprouts from stocks. It adds negligible weight and doesn’t alter the rifle’s profile.
“Much of what makes a rifle-stock pleasing has to do with individual taste.” This is my standard preface when asked my view of a stock design already finalized. Brian Harrington understood. A fellow rifle enthusiast and industry veteran, he represents Montana Rifle Company. “Not that there’s anything wrong with this one,” I said, “but….” Charitably, he let me pick at what’s really a good stock. “I prefer a straight heel, not a Monte Carlo dip, also that the top-line of the grip heed the tang angle, rather than dive so deeply. And that the forend tip does not appear axed off.” I assured him gratuitously that such details don’t impair handling. Brian beat me to my last quibble. He conceded inletting for the barrel shank was a tad generous and said it was already snugged up on production rifles.
My scrutiny revealed nothing at all amiss with metal parts. Their shaping, polishing, fit, and finish impressed me. At the range, the action functioned perfectly. Its ejection port gulped loads fumbled from cold fingers. Those sharp-shouldered PRC cartridges fed smoothly from the contoured follower. And yes, the bolt closed easily on single cartridges thumbed in. Empty cases left smartly and consistently. Scoped with a brilliant Swarovski 1.7-10×42, the rifle shot hurried groups that edged near the 1 MOA guarantee. Felt recoil was duly throttled by the brake, though I’d as soon the factory not install this device, as for my hunting, hearing protection is inconvenient. Even proof-firing can snug a brake. Unless it has wrench flats or is ported to allow through-access with a punch, it can then be devilishly hard to remove.
I was looking forward to field time with this lovely new Montana rifle. It felt as good in the crook of my arm as it did at shoulder. But though we trekked over promising deer country and into thickets that should have yielded mature bucks, I saw only deer with antlers that “needed another year.” One, pausing at ridgeline 200 yards off, tempted me early on. I hoped he’d survive the blaze-orange assault to show me his rack again! Brian, on the other hand, did himself proud last fall with a stunning 5×6 whitetail — a credit to his hunting as well as to Montana Rifle Company!
Boxed in hard rifle cases and presently listing at $2,595, Montana’s Junction and Highline rifles are built from scratch in the USA. I’m told additional chamberings are in the mill, also a left-hand option. I’m pleased this classic bolt action has been tapped again, and tweaked to produce an even better hunting rifle for those of us who prefer classic sporters — hunters who delight in cradling them over hills and vales even when savvy bucks humiliate us.
