Marksmen

Kim DuToit has gone all National Enquirer on us.

With pictures, even.

I had mentioned this weekend just a few posts down. What I hadn't mentioned, in order to avoid "spillin' the beans" as it were, was just who had invited me, as well as other salient details of the weekend.

Of which, I can now speak. Frankly, when I opened Mr. DuToit's e-mailed invitation several weeks ago, I was literally "jaw agape" in response. Honored would be an extreme understatement.

Mr. DuToit's site was the 2nd blog I'd ever read, having found his site via Rachel Lucas' blog. Having been a competitive, trophy winning sorta shooter in the early 80s, of course I was hooked immediately. Over the course of the past year, I've enjoyed a few e-mail exchanges and a phone call or two with Kim, espcecially in regards to boosting support for his National Ammo Day campaign.

So, having truly not fired a round since I moved from San Antonio in July of '99, I arranged to pop-off a few with my Dad and Stepmom in Orlando, FL while seeing them for Christmas. (Just an aside; the Shot Spot in Orlando is one of the finest indoor ranges & gun stores I've had the pleasure of visiting.)

Arriving at bit later than the crowd at the designated venue Friday evening, I discovered they'd already wandered off to the local diner. They were an easy group to spot there though. The waitresses were cowering over in the far corner, barely daring to approach to take orders and bring coffee.

I knew I'd like these guys.

Being a bit frazzled from the last minute "get it all packed and ready" frenzy, followed by a two-hour drive, I wasn't quite done with the menu when the waitress asked for my order. I was "....um...I'll have...ah, shit,..." and was about to say "ah, shit...hang on a minute", but she, being emboldened by my fellow smartasses told me. "Sorry, but we don't serve that here!". For all the shit I got on that one, I might as well have been served an actual shit sandwich. *heh*

Shortly after this fiasco, the Squires Gang arrived, and well, you know what they say about shit rolling downhill. I ordered shit sandwiches for them, too.

After dinner, Kim, Airboss, Yellowlegs, Doc Russia and I repaired to the hotel lounge for drinks, cigars and endless lies lots of gun talk. We smoked some super-premium cigars, and generally enjoyed a nice quiet discussion, until the club was overrun by a crowd of loud twenty-somethings. Oh well, at least a couple of their ladies were nice eye-candy, even if they were all obnoxiously loud punks n' punkettes.

Saturday morning though, we made more noise, and I'd wager that we had more fun making it. But first, we stopped for what can only be described as the world's largest pancakes. I've seen cars with smaller hubcaps for cryin' out loud!

Airboss had the range nicely set up when we got there. After the usual shooter's ritual of telling even more lies, we started warming up with a few rounds from the 100 yd. bench. Being a bit of a drizzly day, we did the bulk of the day's shooting from under the covered porch. We did get some open-air shooting squeezed in between showers.

The steaks that evening were superb, but that restaurant's bread pudding was obscenely good. A true gastronimical overdose of the finest sort.

Later Saturday night, we were serenaded with one of the heaviest thunderstorms I've seen a long time, complete with a dazzling light show from God Almighty himself. Magnificent.

Sunday morning's breakfast was a much more cautious affair. If otherwise, we may have had to been delivered to the range via forklift. Well, all of us except Doc Russia. He can eat just as well as he shoots, and he's a truly gifted shooter.

Upon arriving at the range, we wasted no time in setting up at the 75 yard bench. All day, an ordlerly form of ballistic mayhem ensued, with everyone shooting everyone else's guns, their own guns and mystery guns.

Those bowling pins never had a chance. We had a huge amount of fun, too. About five thousand rounds worth, per Kim's estimate.

Make note that no matter who picked up which weapon though, the across-the-board proficiency was truly impressive. Should the bovine excrement ever impact the rotational air impeller, these are the guys I'd hope to share a trench with.

Kim's photos tell only a tiny part of the story. The best part is the friendships that were made, the fun and fine times that were had, and the exhilirating freedom which we all enjoy.

And if necessary, will fight to keep.

So, go visit his site, and meet the gang that couldn't shoot straight a few of the kind of men you want on your side when the shit hits the fan.

I am honored to have enjoyed their company.

Comments

[Denita TwoDragons]

BWAAAHAHAHAHA!! Thank you thank you THANK you for the helpful visual tips on how to field-dress the South Texas Bowling Pin. I'm planning on having company over (some very nice beavers that live down the street) and I desperately needed the information!

And..."Poodleshooter"?! I bruised myself falling out of my chair on that one!

--TwoDragons

[Yellowlegs]

For those who might like to know, I'm the one Kim labeled as Trader.

[Denita TwoDragons]

Ah! Nice to meet ya then, Yellowlegs! :-)

--TwoDragons

[Sam]

Good for you. Ain't nothing like friends...old or new..

[baldilocks]

Nice smile when gutting that bowling pin. :-)

[Airboss]

Jim
The Honor was all mine.You are welcome here in my small patch of the woods any time.
SH

[Jim]

Airboss, thank you Sir! I'll take you up on that offer in the not too distant future. This time though, instead of the restaurant, I'll do the "chef Jim" thing, and dazzle you and your lovely bride with a feast by mine own hands.

Denita? I'm glad that Kim and I could help fill your laugh quota for the day. And just so you know....look at that left side, middle row target on Kim's site. That's Yellowleg's.

If not for a gusty crosswind, those rounds would have formed a single, jagged hole. He's just as good with that .45 of his. And with his Wilson AR-15. (an M-4, I think?) Between him and Doc Russia, I'm reminded anew:

Don't piss off the Marines!

We did see a buck bowling pin or two, but none of us got a shot in on one.

Maybe next year we'll bag a trophy pin.

Jim
Sloop New Dawn
Galveston, TX

[Key]

At least there were a couple of shots that revealed faces.

"Nice smile when gutting that bowling pin."

Couldn't have said it better myself, Baldilocks.

[Ironbear]

Kewl... I'm jealous. I'd of loved to of made that gathering. ;]