Sunday, February 12, 2006
Range/Hunt/Etc.
We had some business associates in on Friday, from a country that bans guns. They had previously agreed, via email, that they wouldn't mind hitting the range after all the business shit was done.
That was what we proceeded to do.
It amazed me how well people take to shooting. The oldest fellow (over 55, conservatively) had only ever shot an air rifle in his teens. He took to lever-action and revolvers instantly.
The other two unquestionably favored the Old Man's M1 Carbine. Probably 3-400 rounds got fired through the little guy. They were standing behind one another, ready to pick it up as soon as the other fellow took a rest.
We also had a Garand, .22s, the Henry .44 lever, a Ruger Redhawk .44, a Springfield 1911.
The Stubby, after being mounted on my other lower, performed like a dream. No jams, no errors, just straight shooting. Obviously, neither the Trijicon reflex scope or the irons had been sighted, so hitting steel took some compensation. This was a hard concept to explain, but our guests seemed to do alright with it anyway.
After that, we drank.
Tomorrow I'm heading back to Lea County for the final quail hunt of the season. Should be a good time if no one pulls a Cheney. As such, the soonest I'll be logging on again will be Wednesday.
In the mean time, I've been trying to get the Old Man to follow-up on his Virginia trip from last year. He posted on gunsmiths and ranges, but he saw some other shit, as well.
That was what we proceeded to do.
It amazed me how well people take to shooting. The oldest fellow (over 55, conservatively) had only ever shot an air rifle in his teens. He took to lever-action and revolvers instantly.
The other two unquestionably favored the Old Man's M1 Carbine. Probably 3-400 rounds got fired through the little guy. They were standing behind one another, ready to pick it up as soon as the other fellow took a rest.
We also had a Garand, .22s, the Henry .44 lever, a Ruger Redhawk .44, a Springfield 1911.
The Stubby, after being mounted on my other lower, performed like a dream. No jams, no errors, just straight shooting. Obviously, neither the Trijicon reflex scope or the irons had been sighted, so hitting steel took some compensation. This was a hard concept to explain, but our guests seemed to do alright with it anyway.
After that, we drank.
Tomorrow I'm heading back to Lea County for the final quail hunt of the season. Should be a good time if no one pulls a Cheney. As such, the soonest I'll be logging on again will be Wednesday.
In the mean time, I've been trying to get the Old Man to follow-up on his Virginia trip from last year. He posted on gunsmiths and ranges, but he saw some other shit, as well.
