Interesting thoughts. I almost met my maker once in the Southern Alps of NZ because of a longer barrel.

I was heading for camp along a hillside gametrail with my rifle slung, barrel up, when an unnoticed rock protuding from the slope above caught the 60cm barrel. As I fought the momentum of my stride to stop being cammed off the ledge into a stream below, a newspaper filler came to my mind's eye about an Aussie dead from falling off a mountain. Another false report, thank goodness.