Friday, 2 July 2010

Blogger Loses Gunfight

Round One: Gun 1 - Blogger 0
Can you guess what happened? It all started innocuously enough, Goofy Girl and Stonecutter (you'll meet them later) had set me up with a 'play date' with GG's friend Ean, and his pal Mike. I was to be inducted into the great american tradition of 'heading to an out of town quarry to fire guns'.

Ean: "Ever fire a muzzle loader? This one I fire prone, we're allowed two shots or two guns so I take the other one along for a follow-up shot." Hmm "I fire prone" Hmm maybe there was clue there?
Ean: "Ever fire a thirty-aught-six? Care to?"
SBW: "Does the pope shit in the woods? Is the bear a catholic?"

Notorious on my side of the pond for having a fair amount of bark, the 30-06 also has a bit of clack to it, but it didn't seem as hard a recoil as I'd been led to believe. Old school steel butt-plate was a bit alarming though!
Ean: This one seemed appropriate. 

Another treat the chaps had laid on for me was a Rifle No5 Mk1 AKA the .303 Jungle Carbine. Highly point-able and a svelte 7 lb. 1 oz. (3.2 kg) I really  liked it. It would definitely make an excellent deer stalking rifle, although some people use the .303 for larger game.
The boys had some new toys they were keen to test out
I could hear the delighted laughter even through the ear plugs and over the sound of gunfire, 
this is one Chinese import that appears very popular, offer excellent value and does what it says on the tin.
So that's what it's like to be a hollywood action hero
Rumours that I'm a fat Jason Statham will be hotly denied, as usual.
Mike thought I should expand my firearms experience 
As American as Apple Pie - the S & W 1911
.50 cal Muzzle loader off the 'pod: I'd struggled to get my eye lined up with the scope, I 'thought' I had the pad against my shoulder, the sight picture cleared and I was ready to let one go, when.....
It bit me! (OK a sheepish, fat, Jas.....) 
Claret everywhere! Smarted a bit too. Fortunately most of the bruising was to my ego. The cut was nicely placed to be beyond the sewing talents of the junior doctors that work emergency rooms. My policy is that I don't mind going to hospital if A: someone is carrying me and/or B: I'm unconscious at the time. Ean, who has the confidence inspiring air of the ships surgeon about him, produced a seriously well appointed first aid kit and patched me up. One of the good guys.

The last word goes to Mrs Ean:
"That's how we do it at our house. It's not fun unless someone-almost-gets their eye poked out."

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