With a rental car for a few days, I felt it was time to get out and do some of those things that most non-Texans associate with the Great State of Texas, namely cars and guns. Driving to the “local” Dick’s Sporting Goods took about twenty minutes. After parking in the most massive complex of garages I have ever seen, I couldn’t find Dick’s. After walking around and finally asking someone, I drove a few more minutes and parked no fewer than three more times before actually being close enough to the Dick’s that it wouldn’t be a feat of strength to carry a case of .12-gauge shells back to the car.
After some searching, I found some Winchester shells and took them to the counter to have them priced. I was then lauded by the kid behind the counter for doing “quick math” of $6.95 x 10. I don’t mean to pick on him, but he was about 19 and seemed generally confused by shotgun ammunition. When I said I wanted the whole case, is comment was “that’s a lot ammo.” It’s not.
Not only that, but he thought a case was 200 shells. I’m not mathematician, but 10 boxes at 25 shells/box, again is pretty simple arithmetic. I wouldn’t give him such a hard time if he wasn’t the counter clerk in the “Lodge” (aka, hunting) section of Dick’s.
He then tried to sell me a .308 carbine for $1499 by saying that he was going to buy it himself if it was still there next week. Maybe next time.
I hopped in the car and made it over to Elm Fork, not without a bit of difficulty. The range is tucked away off a spur road along a bleak stretch of strip malls. However, once inside, the staff are exceptionally nice and helpful. The skeet layout is pretty standard public course: the ranges are side by side – I believe there are six of them – and range 1 low house shares a wall with range 2 high house, so missed birds come into view from either side. The system is not a pay-in-advance card or key system. You are given a large box controller that can be set for delays or report/true pairs.
I ventured out, dropped one of the first four and then the machines stopped. You place the control box on a handcart with a raised platform and wheel it from station to station. It’s a bit of a nuisance and I guess the cord came loose. With some help, I was up and running, and shooting terribly.
The nice thing is, despite the mechanical troubles which cost me nearly 15 birds, I wasn’t charged for those I couldn’t shoot. I shot four rounds, going 17, 17, 21, 18. 73, just pitiful. As my first day of the season, in new surroundings, and without the luxury of a trapper, I was just happy to be shooting again. My face ached from shooting field-style. I had a three-second delay on the controls so I could load, close the breech, hit the button, prep, and wait. The tell-tale whir of the trap arm gave me an extra half second, but I was still mounting the gun terribly and smacking myself in the cheek with the stock.
Rounds cost $8.50 each, but I bought a 10-round pass for $75. I’ll be back. The 90s are waiting for me there…
Like a Lizard on a Windowpane...
