It was two in the morning when I checked in with Barney the Range Master, at the Bushmaster Gun Club. It's actually more of a sports club than just a gun club. But they do have both indoor and outdoor firing ranges. Also archery, tennis, sand volleyball, and an Olympic size swimming pool.
The club was open twenty four hours a day and the dues were commensurate with that. I didn't mind paying the dues because it enabled me to be here a two in the morning. And come to think of it, that pretty much meant I had the range to myself
I set up more or less in the middle and unpacked my weapon. It is a very elegant colt .45 model 1911. I've tricked it out with custom grips, a bigger spring and a slightly larger magazine. Ok... it's a lot larger it holds seventeen plus one in the pipe or barrel of you will. I enjoy the old style paper targets; the black silhouettes. I eased myself into position and taking aim I relaxed and fired. I had set the target back about one hundred feet. I felt good as a hole appeared right in the middle of the silhouette. I always try to place my first shot there. I raised my weapon to continue my target shooting when off to my left I saw another target headed for the back wall.
It's always interesting to meet another enthusiast at two in the morning and I made a mental note to have a chat with him when I was done shooting. I took aim and put my characteristic second round into the silhouette's head. I was just getting ready to send more lead down range when the guy a couple of lanes over fired his first shot. I could tell immediately that this guy loaded his own. The amount of flame that jumped from the barrel and the much louder report his gun made were a dead give away. All I can really say is that it was impressive.
I paused to watch him fire and his marksmanship was just as impressive as his choice of ammunition. It was even more impressive as I realized he was able to maintain his accuracy even with those hot loads. I was pretty sure I wouldn't have been as accurate under those conditions.
He fired 6 rounds into his target, all dead on. Then I saw him hesitate and his aim shifted and he fired off seven more shots into my target! I guess I'd upset him by watching. As I looked at my target I began to appreciate his humor as well. I'd put my first rounds through the target's nose and he did to me what Mel Gibson did to Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon. His shots made a smiley face around mine.
I wasn't Danny Glover though. I lifted my weapon and started firing, making a line from one of the eyes down to the chest where I made a big hole. As if the face was crying. My shots may have had less power but I was still a good shot.
I heard a feminine laugh and I backed out of my stall to see who was laughing. I didn't see anyone but it sounded like it was coming from the same stall my competitor was in. I reached back into the stall and set my weapon down. Putting on my best smile I moved over to the stall where the laughter had come from.
I wasn't totally surprised that there was a woman looking back at me from the stall. I was a little more surprised to find that she was the "man" I'd been watching shoot. She was carrying a gold plated double action Colt Desert Eagle .50 caliber handgun.
"Hi, I’m Derek."
"Hi, Derek. I'm Cindy."
"That's pretty good shooting." I supplied.
She started laughing. "You''re not so bad yourself."
"Thanks."
"So what brings a nice guy like you to a place like this?" She asked.
