Richard Craver

Thoughts, Musings And The Occasional Rant

In The Club

Written By: richardwcraver - Sep• 30•17

When I was growing up we lived next to my grandparent’s farm with hills, woods and gullies. Those who didn’t grow up rural may only know of Fern Gully. Basically a gully is just a washed out spot on a hillside.

A badly washed out gully is a hazard for cattle, so we dumped stuff in there to stop the washing. Tree branches, yard waste, even household garbage; anything to stop the washing, or erosion if you prefer.

When you have an assortment of cans, broken flower pots and Pop tart boxes, well you have a great place for plinking with a .22 rifle. My earliest memories of shooting, outside of rocks and slingshots, are in those gullies which have long since been flattened into a subdivision. The property that my sister and I now own behind our Dad’s house would be prime for target shooting except that it is was forcibly annexed into the city, no shooting allowed. So much for property owner rights. 🙁

Today I joined a club. Not a bridge club, country club, or dance club (I’m white, nerdy and don’t drink, therefore I don’t dance.); no, a gun club. Specifically the Piedmont Handgunners Association about 25 minutes from my house. I’ve known about the club for some time now, but when I was mostly shooting pistols it was easy enough to go to an indoor range. But after getting involved with shooting sporting clays with guys at church, and then building an AR15; I needed a place to stretch them out a little bit.

.22 range? Check. Shotgun station? Check. Rifle and pistol range? Yes, with pistol bays, tactical bays and a high power range. Even an archery range.

So after taking the open house tour I did the hard part and wrote the check, then went to a pistol bay to ring some steel.

This going to be fun.

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