Saturday, July 11, 2015

All the time you need in retirement...

  I wanted to fire twenty-four rounds of 30-06 from my M1, and drove off to do so. And found the Seattle to Portland bicycle race running across my highway to happiness, on East Gate Road. Didn't even slow me down, but it was motivational - I could wear those kinda tight slinky kind of racing clothes, after dropping fifty pounds and more training, Drill Sergeant!
 
   I got to the range early, but still took the last rifle position and set up to shoot three sighters and five on the 100 yard target.  And along came John, panting after a real old war rifle, drooling about how he wanted to shoot one, own one and a bunch of other things.  And I had bristled when he said 'olde' cause the rifle is six years younger than I.  I am a kinder and gentler fellow than my rifle, so I set up and talked to him and his shooting partners, friends of the kind that own rifles and ammunition, and being gun people willing to let him shoot theirs.  Of course, this is Bloomberg's Washington, so without a national background check no one could allow the guy to shoot.  Then again, the FBI said the whole background check doesn't work as advertised - we could have mentioned since it was government it wasn't meant to work, just feel good.  Like sexual activities and no conception, the government.

  Anyway, the sights were on, but a bit left, so I allowed my first round (in case the rifle were going to kill its operator in a suicide attempt or a neighboring shooter) to be sighted and shot by the total stranger. His finger prints are on the trigger, sir, no I don't know his name, but you have the DNA evidence, don't you? Since I was looking through the spotting scope I know no targets were perforated by that round. It just doesn't count.  He thanked me for the experience.

   I slung up, fired two, checked them, went right about four clicks, and fired the remaining five. All my rounds hit the target.


The rifle is pointed at the two hundred yard target, which has a black six inch center.
Jumped in the Caravan, drove to and picked up the target and took it to the Two hundred yard line. ShootnSee target post on the center, little hole covers on the wide ones. Back to the line. Snap a picture and then three check, then five and make rifle cleared and safe, drive down to move the target to the three hundred yard line. Final eight rounds, I know how much elevation to add for three and four hundred.

   Shooting a Known Distance qualification course or two on Thursday this week, wish me luck!

2 comments:

  1. Sounds like you've got it dialed in! Now go shoot them good Earl! :-)

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    1. Today in the fellowship hall I was talking with the Senior Deacon about things, and he was telling me about his time with the M1 rifle, and after he got his commission carrying the lighter M1 Carbine with the ROK forces. I showed him the picture above and he said, yes, that one. My reputation is assured now in church.

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