Call Me Lucas McCain

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OK, Lucas shot a rifle and not a shotgun, but still.

I fired a shotgun for the first time in my life on Sunday. A 12-gauge Beretta over-and-under, trap model. The bottom barrel is a full choke, which means the shot stays together longer; the top barrel is modified, so it has a wider spread, making it easier to hit those flying discs.

I joked with my brother-in-law that I'd be happy to hit with just one of the 50 shells I had. Of course, that would not make me happy. But it'd be better than missing them all.

For my first shot, I used the (harder to hit with) bottom barrel. I planted my left foot in front, put most of my weight on it, crouched down a little, and closed my left eye (it's far more powerful than my right, so I can't clean it open unless it's covered) as I sighted the front of the tower. I meekly coughed "pull!" and followed the clay pigeon up to the left, and just as it reached its peak, I pulled the trigger.

Shards of pigeon flew every which way. Victory is mine.

I dunno how much of it was beginner's luck though, as the rest of my day saw me hitting only about 4 out of 25 shots with the full choke. But I hit about 18 of 25 with the modified choke, so that's still pretty good for a beginner.

It's the stationary targets I have trouble with ... if you're breaking into my house, pretend I'm a grizzly bear, and just stand still.

Speaking of Lucas McCain -- you know, The Rifleman -- I picked up three episodes of The Rifleman on DVD for $1 at Target. The had a whole box of DVDs of old TV shows, and they don't even give you a case for the disc: it's got gummy glue on the label side, attached to the inside of a cheap cardboard box. Nice way to mass produce some of this stuff people wouldn't spend much money for.

Today I went skiing. First time this season. I've not played hockey since Christmas 2004 either, so I am just out of shape. By mistake I went to an intermediate trail for my first run, and my legs were burning trying to navigate the several inches of powder. I got better as the day wore on, of course.

Until we decided to go home, and I left my skis behind, which I didn't realize until I got home. We called them, and they said they would look. We'll call again in the morning. I *really* hope they find them. I am optimistic.

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This page contains a single entry by pudge published on January 9, 2006 8:56 PM.

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