Shooting Range Experences

[Texas Man]

Last night some fellow friends of mine and I were talking about experwences we have had at the shooting range over the years and a few of mine came to mind. One was the first time I shot my 460 Weatherby at the range and the look of shock on the faces of fellow shooters when they saw the recoil and the outline of blood on my shoulder after a number of shots. Later it I took my first Elephant with it.

 

Another was the day I was at the range when another man and his yoing daughter were shooting a 7 MM mag and a 270 Win. down a ways from me. I hear a strange report from a rifle and screaming from his young daughter as I ran to see what had happen only to find half the skin on his right side of his face was hanging down and blood poring down his chest. His 7 MM Mag. was laying at his feet blow in half and He was telling me he could not see anything and asking if his daughter was o.k. I told him she was fine and I was calling the EMS to come from about a half miles away as the range owner came running up with a wet towel to cover his face. Later I fould out that he had chambered a 270 Win. round in the 7 Mag. and it blew up. He was a long time recovering and I never saw him at the range again but did talk with him later and he thanked me for my help and he did carry scars on his face for the rest of his life.

 

Another time, I was not at the range with my brother when this happen. He had a beautiful Custom made Wheatherby 300 mag. and it was an early model made on a Mauser 98 action that had once been used in Africa by the late Col. Charles Akins and the rifle was engraved and inlays in shock and custom German claw scope mounts. He had shot it a number of times that day and on the last two rounds he had noticed the bolt was closing harder and inspecting it he could see nother wrong with it. After chambering the next round a young man that had been watching him shoot had wanted to shoot the rifle and after my brother handed him the 300 the young man chickened out at the last minute and give the rifle back to my brother. When he fired the next round, My Brother said everthing went black and He could hear things falling to the ground around him and people screaming and then something cold on his face that later he found out was a wet towel and after a while his site started to return and he learned his rifle had blown up. I still have whats left of it and what happen was the bolt had a metal flaw od corbon in the metal between the firing pin hole and the front locking lug and it let go and shared ALL THE LOCKING LUGS letting the bolt fly back half an inch and the only think that kept the bolt from going back thur his head was peices of brass from the blow case that had wedged between the bolt and the receiver. When 65,000 pounds of force is released it is terrifing what the results are. There is a lot more to this story but I now knew why Weatherby came out with the Mark Five and nine locking lugs.

 

Another time that I thought was funny was when I first went to the range and it was very busy and shots going off all up and down the range as the range owner told me to use the end area that day. When I loaded and let go with My Thompson Sub Machine gun the range suddenly got quite and soon I noticed people were slowly coming to see what I was shooting. My secretary loved to shoot the Thompson as well and the range owner was an older man who had an eye for the ladies and at first as my secretary would squat down to pick up the shell casings off the ground in her short skirt and heels the old fart never seemed to be far away. Later I learned to place a tarp on the ground to catch the 45 hulls. She loved shooting the Thompson from her hip and was damn good at hitting the target. Most of the time we would run thur about 1,000 or two rounds when we shot it.

 

One thing that always draws attention is when I take one of the big Sharps out. The huge muzzle blast and fire from the muzzle and all the smoke is always a crowd drawer and of course everone wants to handle a round and look how big it is, But none want to shoot it.

 

Now that I have remarried, My wife is a slender tall blonde with long hair and she is full blooded American Indian and she loves to shoot as much as any man I have ever know and she is a damn good shot too. She being Indian Hertage, Anything that is bright colored she likes and some years ago we were at the gunshow when all at once I hear her yelling "I want that gun" and She takes off running to a table that has a Navy Arms special Edition Engraved Brass framed Winchester 66 Little Big Horn Commentive with a feather hanging from the lever. She never asked the cost only picke dup the rifle and told me to pay for it. I never saw anyone so excited and later that night in the middle of the night I awake to find her nightstand table light is on and she is sitting up in the bed with one of my cotton socks in her hand polishing the 66 and looking at the Engraving showing Custer getting his due at the Little Big Horn. I ask her what she was doing and she said looking at my new gun, Go back to sleep. I told her I was damn glad the gun was not male and a few other words without thinking and I should have know when to keep my mouth shut. When we go out shooting I know she will bring that rile ever time and I just sit a stack of 44-40s onher table and she is in her own world till we leave. I bought her a Custom Kimber 45 and a Cold Defender 45, But as with women You never know what they like the most and her favorite handgun is a S&W Model 10 in 38 special and I can bend over and kiss my --- good bye if she ever decides to use it on me because she seldom ever misses when we are out shooting at tin cans. Why she likes that gun so much I will never know. One other experence with her was when I bought a fine little E.M.F. Model 92 with a 20 inch octon barrel and in 45 Colt. I notice her looking my new 92 over several times and for two days she had dugged me about taking her out to the range. O.K. and as I pull the little 45 carbine out of the leather case I notice she is watching everthing from a few feet away. I load it and fire a couple of shots and man it is right on target and then she tells me she wants to shoot it. I hand it to her and she emptys the gun and as I reach to tak e it back, She tells me to hand her more 45 cartridges and I watch as she shoots my new 92 and see her face light up in a big smile and now she is reaching for more 45 shells and I inform her that I WANT MY GUN BACK and She informes me to go buy myself another one because she is claming this one and she is not giving it back to me. Most men cannot get their wifes to go shooting with them, My problem is my wife likes guns as much as I do and sometimes forgets who a certian gun belongs to. If I clamed her Little Big Horn 66 I know the Custer Battle would be an ant on a mountian compared to what I would have on my hands and I dont want to go there.

 

Once, Many years ago a few months before My Brothers untimly sudden death at 37 from a massive heart attract, One of the best days of My life was the Sunday that he and I had gone out to the range to just sit back and enjoy a peaceful day at the range. He was always a very tense type of person and it was hard for him to relax. This day he had a new Mark Five 300 Weatherby with him and shooting the 200 yard target he was not shooting his best. Sitting next to us was an older retired general that had lost his wife and sometimes to beat the boredom of sitting home all day he would come out and spend the day at the range just kicking back and shooting. The thre of us were talking and he was telling us he just could not shoot the way he had when he was younger and that his nerves were not the same. After a while My brother walked over to his truck and in a while he came back and the old man and I watched as he shot the big 300 and was putting them all in the tight center of the target. The oldman became all excited and ask him what he had done to do that and my brother told him he just had to relax a little more and the oldman said well I want some of what you got when you went to your truck. My brother looked at me then the old Man and said well if you want to relax, Hold on and we watched as he went to the truck then returned with a joint. The old man asked if it was weed from Mexico and my brother told him he didnt know where it was from but that it helped him relax. The old man looked thur the spotting scope and said damn man give that to me and after smoking it a while later we watched as the old man picked up his 30-06 and touched a few off then looking in his spotting scope he started to yell "Damn man I have not shot like that in years, Look at my target Son". He was very excited and after a while we were letting the barrels cool off when we heard snorring and looking at the old mans bench he was fast asleep. We were the only ones at the range then and we started to laught and we just let him sleep a while. Understand I dont encourge people to do drugs nor do I use them. As far as I know, My brother never used anything else and that was the one and only time he ever smoked one around me.

 

One of the strangest experences I ever had at the range was one time I was going ever afternoon as I was trying to work up a load for killing a Mexican Eagle that was killing young goats at my ranch and I would load a few rounds and go test them the next afternoon in a Wheatherby heavy barrels 22-250 with a 6-24 Leopold scope for a 500 yard shot as the Eagle sit in a old dead misquite tree on the a hill and would fly if I got closer than 500 yards to him.

I noticed a young blonde lady about 35 that had come out to the range and was sitting some tables to my left. I watched as she took a new Charter Arms 44 out of the box and seemed to be having a hard time getting the cyclinder to open. After watching a while, I got up and asked her if I could help her and whne she handed me the 44 My finger touched hers and she reacted strange. After showing her how to pen the cyclinder I went back to my table as she fired a gun for the first time in her life. For the next few days she would show up and fire a few rounds then leave. A couple of days had passed when the ranger owner came out to refore us that the next dat some police officers would be qualifing and we could shoot free but we had to wait for them to finish. Well the next day I decided to take a pair of 45 Auto out to shoot after they had left and as I sit under a shade three watching them shoot taking all the time they wants to aim and fire in time they all left about the time the young lady pulls up. I placed a few man shaped targets in the holders and as the young lady had now sit down and was watching me as I pulled the 45s and cut loose shooting fron one target to the next in fast order as one can expect in a real life shootout. I had run a couple of runs when the young lady comes over and ask me if I could teach her to shoot that way. I told her it took years to learn to shoot like that but that I would be willing to help her all I could.

I helped her all I could and she was taking my advise and help and for the next few days I came out just to help her. I had got the load I needed for the 22-250 and later kissed the eagle. The last day she came out she informed me that she had learned enought for what she needed to know and would not be coming back. As we were about to leave, She ask me if she could buy me a cup of coffee at a resturant and I told her I would enjoy that. After we sit and talked awhile she started to tear up and sob as she told me why she had bought the gun. Her words were, I am divorced and live with my 13 year old daughter in an apartment. Four months ago in the middle of the night I feels hands touching me and when I open my eyes I see three ----- men standing over me in my bedroom. Before the night was oper all I wanted to do was die but thinking about my daughter I decided to let them have their time and that I would have mine later. Telling me if I didnt do what they wanted, They would go in the next room and get my daughter. As they had their time, I notice ever winkle and everthing about them and to my dying day I will never forget what they look like and I have never told anyone about what happen but some day my time will come. I told her how sorry I was and after wishing her the best of luck I never saw her again after that as she drove off in her little blue car.

Several monnths later I was riding with a policeman that worked securty for my company and as we were driving around his area the worst in town He pointed to a bus bench and said "The dammest thing happen here at that park bench the other night, Two of our worst thugs were sitting at that bench when a little blue car with some blonde woman pulled up to the bench and rolled her window and down and when the two guys got up to look inside her car, She shot both of them between the eyes and one fell back over the bench and the other on the sidewalk and then she turned left and drove off towards 35 and all we know for sure is the jacket from a 44 was recoved in ones head. There were several people who witnessed it but no one could give any helpfull information. At the time It not enter my mind that I may have knew who it was and for a few days someting just kept bugging me about the blonde and the blue car. Later I asked my friend if the guys had a record rape and he said they knew they had did it but they had no proof. I never said a thing and I bet the third dude is also pushing up weeds somewhere too. As far as I am concerned ever lady should know how to defend herself.

 

Texas Man

[Driften]

Cool stories.... My wife likes cowboy guys but when she tried a HK P7PSP I had to buy another one for me to shoot.

[rippin kid]

Great stories. Can a full blooded American Indian be a real Blondie?

[Texas Man]

I quess so, She is and I dont dare ask her if her hair is grey before she goes to the beauty shop. But I do think she has had blonde hair most of her adult life from photos I have seen when she was younger. Her great grandmother was Cherokee and was on the tail of Tears with Cheif Joseph and Her dad was Blackfoot. We have traced her hertage back to the 1600s futher than I can mine from Germany in 1847. Her Mothers family was from the Cherokee Nation in Oklahoma and her family is buried in the Cherokee Nation Cemetery. She has Her Native American Papers.

 

Her family has a interesting history.

Her Great Grandfather was a U.S. Marshall under Judge Parker out of Fort Smith and his Son, Her Grandfather was also a U.S. Marshall as well in Indian Territory and both served long years in Law Enforcement. Her Great Grandfather on Her Dads side was a Scout for the Texas Rangers and was in many hard fights including the Waco fight where Capt. Rip Ford where Capt. Ford in the book The Texas Rangers told that if it had not been for his brave little Indian Scout Named Cobb the fight would have been lost. That was Her Great Grandfather on Her Dads side. He was later killed in a barroom fight in Dallas.

 

Living with My wife has taught Me a lot of things about how the Native Americans look at Life Different that German Americans do. I am Part Commanche and German Myself. I was very surprise when We researched her history and found it went far futher back than I would have ever thought. With Her family, She can hold Her head high and know Her Family are Fine people and raised Her with Pride and respect.

Texas Man

[Subdeacon Joe]

All my fun at the range stories are from helping others at the range - usually young ladies who had boyfriends that wanted to impress them by having them shoot "real guns" and starting them with 1911s and 44 magnums, shooting at 25 yards. Ask if he minds if I give the lady a few pointers, put a .22 or light load .38 specials in her hand, target at 5 yards, give her more instruction than "Just point it at the target and pull the trigger!" Draw diagrams on the back of a target, coach them through the first shots, watch the faces light up as they put all their shots on a 5 inch Shoot n See.

 

One guy had a Ruger 77 in .270 - not really bad for a beginner. But, his brother had mounted a scope on it but not sighted it in. They were having to hold off something like 6 or 8 inches low and right, standing with no support. He was watching me with my H&R Target 38-55, so we traded guns for a bit - that is how I found his scope wasn't sighted in. Asked if he minded if I sighted it for him. "Fine, go for it!" Had it within two clicks after 3 rounds. Then had his lady friend fire from my rest. She shot three and asked "Should they all be going into the same hole?" All in the 8/9 ring at about 4 o'clock on a 5" Shoot n See at 100 yards. She put seven more into the same hole (actually a small cloverleaf). For some reason the guy got really embarrassed.