The sequence
A swap is not a vibe. It is a short loop we can repeat until the miss on the net matches the miss you described from the rims. Then we stop, even if there is a prettier combination left in the tray.
Every visible plug comes out. Each one goes on the gram scale. We write what the factory actually shipped, not what the catalog claimed. A “4 g” stamp that weighs 3.6 is a 3.6. That envelope goes home with you at the end so you can always return to stock.
Heel, toe, back, plus any track. We sketch the head as it sits in your hands, not as it sits in a marketing render. Empty sockets get an aluminum blank so the aerodynamics of a hole do not sneak into the test.
Miles keeps the wrench. We do not “snug it by feel.” Dry Billings winters make cheap thread locker brittle; we use it only on a settled gamer, never on a test plug. Test plugs are dry-clicked to the number on the sheet.
You hit the combination. We watch start line and curvature more than we watch a number on a screen. The plains wind is not in the room; we do not pretend it is. If you play the rims, we talk about that after the indoor miss is honest.
Hole, gram, inch-pounds, date, who clicked it. You get a copy. We keep a copy in the First Ave binder. If a plug walks in March, the binder is how we know what March is walking away from.
How long
Most single-head maps settle inside ninety minutes. A driver tray with a track slider can run two hours. An iron walk is a half day because each socket set has to be clicked and hit, not just looked at. Saturday’s noon close is real — we will not start an iron walk at ten.
When we stop
If the third combination and the fourth combination produce the same start line, we are done shopping. More grams in the tray is not a reason to keep turning screws. The point is a layout you can repeat in June, not a trophy arrangement.