Most memorable experience at the range.

J

James E

Moderator
Had to start another topic. Mucking around over in legal has bent my psyche out of shape. Need to chill out.

Some years ago a friend and I were shooting big bore at a pistol range. Firing on 25 yard line. Soon we were joined by a Rap dude with boombox. Range master told him to lose the music box on the firing line. He complied, and returned next to us and begin shooting at his target. We weren't paying much attention to him until he started using the mother word. My friend ask him what the problem was. He explained he layed out some heavy bread for this piece of junk (his gun) and that he couldn't hit jack ---- with it.
Friend ask if he could see the gun. Dude hands it over to him. Friend ask if he could shoot it. He says, go ahead. Friend proceeds to make a tight group with chrome gun on the target in the black at six o'clock. Hands gun back to dude and talks with me on some other thing. Dude packs up and leaves. Turns up boombox full blast as he's peeling out of driveway. Bye, bye.
 
This one is different but 100% true...

I was the only shooter at my local plinking range. The firing line is covered and above the target area. I was firing my Beretta 92 in the PRONE position at a steel plate target at 25-30 yds away. One of my shots hit the mark with a clang and the ricochet apparently came staight back at me and stuck me in the right lower thigh right above the the knee. Shocked, I promptly jumped up and clutched my jeans at the point of impact, waiting for the blood to come. Nothing. The jeans protected me. It wasnt painful, but the last thing you want to feel at the range is a ballistic impact. I have been on several ranges, often full of shooters, but I have never seen anything else like this. It was a true million to one shot.
 
Would have to be my first time to a range with a rangemaster. Had been shooting for about an hour when someone called time out to change targets. I was having trouble with one of my pistols, had it in a couple of pieces. Without thinking I took it with me behind the safety line to continue working on it. Rangemaster came unglued, ran over to me screaming and yelling. He told me that I should never carry a gun back from the bench. Told him that I was sorry and then proceeded to take the gun back to the bench. Yep another big no no. Again I was yelled at, ordered to stop.

To make a long story short, I then got a quick lesson on proper range proceedures. Yep this is my most memeerable moment at the range. The lessons learned that day burned in real well.



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Richard

The debate is not about guns,
but rather who has the ultimate power to rule,
the People or Government.
RKBA!
 
I have had many fun experiences at the range. My most memorial was last year. Me and a group of my buddies weent up to national forest for a day of shooting. There were 7 adults and 4 teenage boys. We had about 20+ rifles,AR15's/AK47 SKS etc, and 10+ pistols. The location was past a small town about 200yrds of the main road. Perfectly legal place to shoot. I was acting as range master keeping everyone in a proper safe line. After about an hour,and 1000+rnds of ammo, we hear a truck coming up the curved road. We all turn around, each with rifle and pistol in hand, to see who it is.As the truck comes around the bend I notice its the local Sheriff and could see him mouthing the words "Oh Sh!t!!" with a startled look on his face. Well I went to talk to him and he stated that he heard all the gun fire and just wanted to make sure we were shooting safely. I assured him we were. The poor guy stated that he expected to see a couple of people shooting not a whole freaking army!!
We ended up shooting about 4000 rnds that day. Great fun.

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SGTAR15
 
I was at one of the local ranges about a year ago and some guy whips out an old SAA in 45 Colt. He's making some really nice groups at the 25 when it sounded like a grenade went off right in my left ear. I wear double protection from too many years shootin' 50's. But this one was really LOUD. When the poor guy recovered, us too, his SAA was in 3 pieces. The cylinder was gone! The topstrap went throught the sheet metal roof, we found it in the parking lot about 50 yrds behind us. The only thing we could figure was a 2x or 3x load. He said he used a load of 4g of Bullseye, nice and mild. A 2xor 3x load would fit in the case easily.
After everyone was found to have all extremities, the poor guy sat and cried for half an hour. I would too I guess. A SAA is my one firearm purchase I've always dreamed of making.
 
A little off-topic from the thread, but I can't miss the opportunity presented by Tony's story ... THAT is why I am willing to put up with smokey loads and some loads that produce small amounts of propellant debris. One of my greatest fears is a double charge.
 
Double loads scare the H*LL out of me. I am not sure I want to be me a progressive. At least with my old single press I can look in each of the cases to check for a double load.
 
Gentlemen. You are so right about being careful of the dreaded double wammy load. I am getting a mite long in the tooth, the mental process has slowed somewhat so it seems. (stop snickering...it'll happen to you one day) Anyway, load 50 rds of .45 acp with what I thought was the right powder measure dumping...only to discover two days later the scale was set wrong. Pulled all 50 rds. a tiresome job and reloaded the works again. Only discover they were 2.0 grains over max. Gads! By that time my new hornady bullet puller arrived and pulling bullets wasn't near a chore. This time got the measure and scale to correspond accordingly and finally got it right. Moral to this story, check and double check, even when you think you've got it right. Better to do that than make a hand grenade with a grip handle on it.
 
I've had many weird experiences at the ranges but heres two of them.

When I was about 19 or so I bought some of those crowd controll shotgun shells with the rubber slugs in them. I took some out in my trusty Mossberg 500 and proceeded to shoot them at a 55 gallon drum about 50 yds downrange. Well long story short, rubber bounces, Duh. About the third shot went straight down to the barrel and straight back within a couple inches of my head. I saw the darn thing comming the whole way. It was bright red. Scared the crap out of me.

About three years ago I was at a local public range, I hate public ranges, and during a fireing session three very stupid asian people walked accross about 20 live rifle lanes to get over to the pistol range. Fortunately none of the shooters there that day had a vietnam flashback so they all lived through it.
 
two good ones:

i was at an indoor range with one of those inclined metal backstops. no .50 AE's, or .454's, rifle cartridges, shotguns , blackpowder or bottleneck cartridges allowed. there was a sign to that effect. this guy comes in with a big plastic pistol case and whips out a TC Encore in 30-06. the blasts where ear splitting inside. the owner nearly tore down the door getting in there to stop him. i never found out if any rounds went thru the backstop but he lost his membership then and there.

i was at an outdoor range where you have to walk down to setup/check targets. the range was 100 yards long. it had 10 lanes and was about 150 feet wide at the firing line. we were downrange checking targets. these two cammo clad young guys come in and set up at the bench farthest from the gate. i hollared at them that we would be done in a minute. one threw up his hand and said OK. we were hanging up the last target when i heard a round go off. we hit the dirt and were looking to see what happened. one of these cammo A$$HOLES had loaded an AR15 and was popping off rounds into the berm, not even shooting at targets!!
the guy with me drew his 10mm Glock and was going to return fire!! i stopped him and hollared at them to stop. they stood up and walked ahead of the firing line like "WHAT!!??" when we got to the line my buddy walked right up to the shooter and punched him in the face full force. the shooter staggered back and got up spitting blood. the A$$HOLE threw a couple of return punches but my friend is 6'3" 250lbs of pure whit leather, crew cut and bad attitude. he almost beat this guy senseless while the second A$$HOLE stood and watched. finally i intervined and kept him from killing this guy. as we walked back to our bench i asked "Pissed you off Huh?" he replied "Freaking bad range manners i won't tolerate that, somebody could have gotten killed" he said.
"Yeah" i said "If i had not stopped you it would have been him."

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Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what is for lunch.
Liberty is a well armed lamb contesting the outcome of the vote.
Let he that hath no sword sell his garment and buy one. Luke 22-36
They all hold swords, being expert in war: every man hath his sword upon his thigh because of fear in the night. Song of Solomon 3-8
The man that can keep his head and aims carefully when the situation has gone bad and lead is flying usually wins the fight.
 
I guess it's pretty boring around here. Only once in a year was there ever another shooter when I was at my local gun club range, so nothing exciting ever happens.

There were two notable experiences though. The first occured one midweek afternoon when I was playing with my 7mm Spanish Mauser. When I arrived and set up, I noticed a target left up on the 100 yard board, and through my spotting scope, I could see that it was unused, so I figured I'd take advantage of the free ride.

I fired one round and looked through the spotter to see where I landed, and as I did, a large hen turkey strolled out onto the range from the brush. I was thinking "Is this bird nuts, or what? I thought turkeys were supposed to be smart?"

I was thinking that I could nail myself a nice bird, although out of season, and who would ever know. I just finished talking myself out of it, when through the spotter, I notice a chick, and then another, and another, and 8 in all, poking around in the grass behind her. I didn't want to shoot over their heads so I walked out and chased them off the range, but no sooner did I get back to the bench, and they were back! :)

I guess she knew that this was probably the safest place in the forest for her and her brood, so I ended up giving them exclusive use for the next 15 minutes or so, til they grazed their way into the woods on the other side of the range.

Today, while setting up for the 50 Million Round march, another little interesting thing happened. A bobcat wandered down the dirt road, right past the rifle range. I swear, these animals are nuts around here!
 
My father and I had agreed to meet at our friend's private range, on a ranch west of town. It's pretty primative, but we have a backstop and up to 300 yards to shot at it. As I came down the hill and around the side of the berm, my passenger and I saw my father about 10 yards from the targets, apparrently reloading his .40 High Power after having shot some at close range. The next thing we notice is this HUGE, prehistoric-looking bird advancing on my father. Dad is checking something in the pistol, and has his full attention on it, now. As we pull forward with astonishment, the bird draws nearer to my father. Dad, satisfied with his pistol's condition, holsters and waves to us with a smile that fades as he sees our startled expressions. Following our gaze, he turns around to come face to face with a 5-foot bird wielding a big beak on a serpentine 2.5' neck!

My father, a 30-year LEO, drew his pistol in bewilderment.

The EMU turned on its heel and began marching away.

We called the land owner. "That damn bird's still around?" He hollers over the cell phone. "I would've thought the coyotes'd gotten him by now!"

The land owner wants no part of the emu. I'm thinking about how I've always heard how good they taste. Landowner says, "Take him if you want him!"

I unlimber Dad'd .257 Roberts, and pop the bird at about 150 yards, at the juncture where the spine meets the neck. Bird goes down in the high grass. Wondering if I can find him in such high grass, I head over to the area, and find it kicking up dirt and its head winding around like a serpent. I did not claim my "prize" for several minutes, until the dead bird settled down.

Now came the weird part; How do you butcher an emu? I did all right, but it was nothing like what I expected. Interestingly enough, there is no breast meat on an emu. Looking at them, it makes sense. If they had breast meat like a turkey or a chicken, they'd fall over. Instead, the REAL meat on these 90-lb birds is behind the legs. So, next time you're hunting feral emu, go ahead and pop them through the chest; you're ruining no meat.

The drumsticks were as long as large man's forearm, and were about football-diameter. I smoked them in my smoker, and they made excellent faccimiles of "brisket." The other meat I made into teriyaki jerki, and it was excellent. Gotta find those pictures.

At ANY freakin' rate, this would definitely qualify as my strangest day at the range. My only regret is that I revved the engine and caught Dad's attention before the emu could get to him. I can imagine this 5-foot bird pecking the back of and surprising my father as he held a .40 High Power. Boys and Girls, can you say,"Shot unto slide lock?" :) :D
 
Hey Longpath, know why there's no breast meat on an emu, or an ostrich for that matter?

The breast meat supports a bird's ability to fly, and emus and ostriches don't fly.

Bet you it had some killer drumsticks, though! :)

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Beware the man with the S&W .357 Mag.
Chances are he knows how to use it.
 
Neatest range experience was a guy in a wheelchair, about 80 years old. He rolls up to the firing line with a little .25 Baby Browning and proceeds to dump the whole clip into a 2-inch group on the X of a a 15 yard target. Took him about a second and a half. He did it about five times.

My friend Larry and I got to chatting with him. He'd been in the OSS in World War II and a tiny gun was all he could carry and hide in Occupied France. So he learned to use it, and had to head-shot a few Nazis along the way.
 
Lots to choose from, but...

A couple of months ago my older brother and I took my son (12) and my nephew (8) to the range. It was my nephew’s first time.

I just stood there being a very proud father as my son repeats, almost word for word, all of the firearms/range safety rules, procedures and shooting tips I've told him over the past 4 years we've been shooting together.

It was a very special realization that he HAD been listening after all! :)
 
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