Target Practice

February 20, 2012

Day 19

Today I planned on crossing a lot of things off my to-do list. Set-up dog fence, discover new hypoallergenic recipes, order a pair of Tom’s with the gift card I got for Christmas, clean, ect. Well none of that happened. Right after I listed off all the things I had planned for today my dad said, “Well I thought we could go out shooting because it’s such a nice day.” We have been trying to do this for a while now. Either one or both of us are usually busy or the weather is bad. I haven’t shot a gun more than maybe once or twice in my life… unless you count paintball guns… then it would be 4 times. I was a little hesitant since I’m not a big gun person and I did have a long list of to-dos, but who could turn down an adventure. So we hopped in the card and headed out to… actually I had no idea where. “North!” my dad said. After 40 minutes of driving, stopping to see a ghost town, add 10 minutes off-roading we finally made it to our destination. We were near a hundred year old bridge, train tracks, and a river. Beautiful.

I went and set up the cans and bottles we brought for target practice. Placing each one with care and in an orderly fashion. Then my dad gave me the safety guidelines. Never point it at anyone was the most important, even when it’s unloaded… unless they are trying to harm you, then fire away. Better safe than a life-sentence I always say. After I got all ready and had my target in sight my dad said he would buy my Starbucks in I hit a target on the first shot of the day. So after 5 more minutes of preparation. Bam! Miss. Damn. Oh well. Second shot. Bam! Direct hit. I still think I deserve of Starbucks, but I’ll hassle him for that later. After that first hit I was hooked. Just like meth.

We shot with his .22 semi-automatic rifle, .222 bolt-action rifle, and a .22 semi-auto pistol. I started with the .22 rifle and had my best luck with it. I then switched to the .222, which I only shot once and hit a target it. So I guess technically my best percentage was with this one, but it was so hard to find the cross hairs before my arms got tired from the weight of the gun. Then the ear splitting sound made me set the gun down. I guess earmuffs aren’t just for looks at the shooting range.

Next up the pistol. I think I had the worst luck with this one. It’s harder for me to hold a pistol steady compared to the rifles. I did like how light is was, even though it was almost as loud as the .222 rifle. My dad didn’t have much luck with the pistol either so maybe it’s not just me. After about 1.5 hours of shooting I shot off the rest of the bottles and packed up. Don’t worry environmentalists we picked up our shells and targets.

I was surprised by how much fun I had. I can’t wait to mutilate some more cans. Too bad I’m not drinking soda this month. There is a weird feeling you get when you hit a target. I don’t want to say powerful because that might upset some activists, so badass will have to do. Ya I felt like a badass. So this is how those cowboys became so cocky.

If you hate guns then I’m sorry if this upset you… But… you’ve got to ask yourself one question, “Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”

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