Friday, March 12, 2010

Dead Eyes

Wednesday after work I met my father, my uncle, my brother, and my brother's youngest son at a new shooting range. My nephew had been pestering my uncle to let him shoot one of his automatic weapons so my uncle showed up with his M-16. I should note here that my uncle has long held a Federal Fire Arms License and he's licensed to own fully automatic weapons.
My brother brought his Glock .40 (which I gave him) and I brought my trusty Smith & Wesson .357. We were a well armed bunch.
It had been a while since I'd gone shooting but I still managed to keep all my patterns tight. My brother, who has always been a good shot, also was in good form. My uncle, a lifelong gun enthusiast, is also an excellent shot and so is my father. This was my nephew's first time firing a handgun or a rifle and as it turned out he also did very well. Makes me wonder if eye-hand coordination is a hereditary. Everybody in my crew can shoot.
In fact, that reminds me of two Christmases ago when the same nephew got a compound bow. He wanted me to go out in the back yard and watch him shoot it, so we went out to where they had a target set up. After he showed off a bit, he asked me if I'd like to try it. Now I probably hadn't shot a bow in twenty years, but I took the compound bow and placed my first arrow in the bull's-eye. My nephew was stunned to say the least.
Anyway I had a great time. I don't get to hang out with my dad and uncle much nowadays, but when I was a kid I spent all kinds of time with the two of them, riding dirt bikes, deer hunting, camping, and just all around adventuring. Felt like old times, and having my brother and his son there just made it better.

1 comment:

lk said...

I was just remembering yesterday my experience shooting at Gleneagles. I wanted to try it for research purposes, because I'd never done it. So I signed up for a morning and D and I met the ghillie.

It was pouring rain and I could barely see. The ghillie was disgusted to find I (female) was the one shooting, and only talked to D (he referred to me peripherally as "this baggage.") With great reluctance he showed me how to stand, and told me to to sight ahead of the clay, etc, and I had to say "Pull" and all that. I thought the gun was really heavy, and you had to hold it out in front of you in a weird way. My glasses kept fogging up and I could barely see.

And I hit every freakin' clay. For an hour. The only ones I missed were a couple that rolled across on the ground--meant to be like rabbits.

LOL, when the ghillie finally started addressing me in person, instead of through D, I knew I had impressed him. When we got done, he wanted me to come back the next day so he could really teach me something.

So it must be genetic in my case. Never fired a gun before or since.