The Digital Age Is Here

You might think of Raytheon as one of those companies with tall buildings whose offices control the production of important but obscure hardware in far-flung factories with no signs on them. A company with long tentacles, political muscle, military contracts and executives in foreign capitals. A company that makes lots of money, spends a lot on R&D and is well regarded by middle-age Republicans. Could be. Raytheon is a multi-national firm, with offices in Midland, Ontario, on Lake Huron, and in Malaga, Spain. There's also one in Richardson, Texas, where Rusty Maulden works.

I met Rusty last year. He immediately launched into a description of Raytheon's latest novelty for outdoorsmen. "Actually, it's not a Raytheon product," he explained. "It's from Elcan, a subsidiary." You knew Raytheon had subsidiaries...

Turns out, the moniker "Elcan" derives from an old name in optics. "It's an abbreviation for Ernst Leitz, Canada," said Rusty. The Leitz company dates to 1849, in Germany. While Elcan has been building infrared scopes for U.S. military units since the 1980s, it's just now tapping the civilian market.

"We put our electronics know-how into a revolutionary new riflescope," beamed Rusty. "It's called DigitalHunter." "Revolutionary" is an over-used term. But after shooting with a DigitalHunter, I'll confess it fits.

The technology to construct a digital scope has been around for some time, but not until recently was the project economically feasible. And it's becoming more so. The Elcan scope is just a year old at this writing, and already its price has been trimmed by roughly 25 percent--to less than $1,200 at retail.

To understand the price, you must know what's in a DigitalHunter sight. Some features appear in most high-quality scopes--a stout alloy tube, multi-coated optics. At twenty-eight ounces, a DigitalHunter is heavier than traditional scopes. It mounts on a Picatinny rail or Weaver bases. A magnification range of 2.5X to 13.5X is broader than normal, and it's operated by a button, not a ring. There's no turret. A flat panel studded with buttons adorns the scope where you'd expect to find an elevation dial. It's the control center. But the real difference is in how the image is generated.

"You have to think digitally," Rusty explained. "You don't look through this scope--there's no optical path beyond the front third of the tube. Instead, you see a digital display triggered by light focused on a sensor."

He pressed a button to turn the sight on. The black screen in front of my eye suddenly came to life, with a pixilated image behind the facsimile of a colored crosswire. Icons on the periphery indicated I could manipulate the image and other scope elements. But I didn't know the drills until Rusty coached me through them.