When we got there, I warmed him up on the long .22’s, with and without a scope. He decided he likes the scope because it lets him see the target better. He was in charge of the range controls, so he had Grandpa shoot at targets that were considerably farther than his own. Imagine my surprise when he shot about as well as I did!
I dug out the 91/30 and fired off five rounds to show him how it was done…about a four inch group with one flyer. I am happy with that with surplus ammo. LS was suitably impressed and it was his turn. He helped me load and he straddled the bench in front of me as I showed him how to aim. He eventually squeezed off a round
and after the shock of the recoil (yes I have a pad mounted), jumped up with a big grin on his face to call the target back. He was thrilled because he even hit the target at 50 yards! I shot through another fifteen rounds or so and asked if he wanted to try again. LS nodded yes.
He helped me load,
assumed the position,
adjusted the gun on the sandbags,
lined up his shot,
placed his finger on the trigger,
I placed a hand to support his shoulder,
and after a long pause, he stated firmly…
“I don’t think so!” He then abandoned his post.
We shot up the rest of our ammo with the short .22’s and hit Arby’s for lunch.
His mother was a little irritated when she found that his pockets were filled with spent brass…but she made appropriate noises when he showed her his perforated paper evidence.
No better way to spend a morning!
