Had the week off last week, and tried like hell to get stuff done that has been languishing around here for weeks. I still need to finish my network. I have the extra access point up, but couldn’t do much else. Herself was home all week as well, and I can’t drop the interwebs while she’s using them.
Well, I could.
But I’d regret it.
I tried to get at least two things done a day, but it really didn’t work out that way. First, I was overcome by events. I found broken stuff that had to be dealt with before anything else. Herself bought a new car, so I had to sign some paperwork. Second, the Texas heat rabbit punching me. While you are working out in the sun and heat, it feels like you’re getting a beatdown. Everything goes slower.
By the end of the week, I was ready for fun. The Boy got a new shootin’ iron he wanted to test out, and I needed to check out the range near my house. I haven’t shot since I moved here three years ago. Mostly because my ammo stash isn’t in a state where I can shoot gratuitously. But now that some ammo seems available, I wanted to shoot my PeaceMaker. I reasoned that I had plenty of .45 colt, and it would be easier replaced than .44 special.
Except, I was wrong.
I spent ten minutes I didn’t have before meeting the Boy gawping at my stash in disbelief. I had nearly none .45 colt. Only sucking chest wound rounds, as opposed to pop holes in paper rounds. I did have a number of boxes of .44, all hollow point, some expensive. So I packed the .44 Bulldog and a box of rounds and headed out. Taking only one of the two range bags he left at my place while he moved that he asked if I’d bring to him. Oops.
It’s a nice range and we had good time sighting in his new toy.
But my old eyes had issues. I first read about this on Kim DuToit’s site. My old eyes were swimming at as close as 25 yards. Took a lot more concentration to shoot as well as I could in the past.
Didn’t help that there’s always numbnuts at any range. The two next to us were shooting a number of different rifles, and peppering away much faster than the posted range rules allowed – all at 5 yards. Who shoots that close and fast with a rifle? What were they practicing for? A drive by?
Whatever. To each his own. I guess some like to Blow money on useless noisemaking. There were four others there, three practicing for real, and a woman having a shooting lesson.
That said, even with my jacked up eyeballs I was doing OK. Holding my own. My .44 is a snub nose, halitosis range, weapon. So that’s what I shot. Big noise, big hole, right where I wanted it. Once the Boy installed the rear site (that was missing), his rifle shot well. A little high and we didn’t realize the elevation adjusts on the front sight.
So the Boy suggested a contest, I get one target, he gets the other – 10 shots, best score wins. Loser buys.
Dude beat me by 6 points.. Although we had to mark the holes knucklehead next door punched near my part of the target. Jesus I hate that. Pay.F-ing.Attention!
This was when the boy made a tactical mistake, and offered a round two. Bad move since I now was comfortable with his gun.
He never told me the score and I didn’t count it. It was very apparent. His was about like his last target – OK group. Mine, though, was a reasonably tight group around the bullseye. But it was tough focusing with open sites. I did take my time this round.
Still, it was comforting to know that at 25 yards, standing, I could put a small group in a chest cavity with zero concentration. I’m tempted to head out to an outdoor range to see if my long distance shooting has suffered. Bummer that the range had .44 special in stock, which I found to my dismay, that I couldn’t buy on the way out. Crap. Now I need to go back on an ammo hunt.
We went out to celebrate at a brew pub nearby. It was nice to hang with my son. It doesn’t happen much these days since he’s been working, and has a busy life.
The range is close enough that I can make this a weekly thing, walking around money and ammo notwithstanding. I forgot how much of a stress relief shooting is. Forces you to concentrate on what you’re doing rather than work and drama.
Inspected By Pat 