Sometimes this trip is just about my time on the range (that's what it started out as, after all)...the visceral enjoyment of the various elements of the muzzleloading craft coming together in a single, well-placed shot. But, ya know, these 56 year-old eyes can have a problem seeing through the smoke in order to determine whether that shot was, in fact, placed well. Case in point.
The Avondale Gun Club (Avondale, CO) has this beautiful space and they let me shoot on the 100yd range. There were some tires, plastic bottles, and this old paint thinner can. I set it up on a tire, loaded the New Englander walked to 80 yds and fired...nothing happened. Now, I usually don't miss at that distance, and I was recording it, so damn!. So I went back, loaded the Great Plains and repeated the shot. Again with the nothing. Third shot (2nd with the GP) and this happened...not that I saw it (the eyes, the smoke, etc.) So I went back for the New Englander. Fourth shot turned the can. So now I'm curious...did I actually hit the cans the first two times. Photos do not lie. (Well, not these ones). The reason the can did not fall over is because the .54 caliber ball propelled by 72 grains of powder blew through the can so powerfully that the little weight at the bottom of the can was enough to hold it. But the damage to the back shows the force of impact, ripping the thin metal to shreds.
When asked why I enjoy this odd (to some - scary to others) diversion, it is because of the slow, meticulous, zen-like preparation of the firearm, the calm breathing and strength to hold the target through open sights, the explosion of ignition, the fullness of the sound, the smell of the smoke, and satisfaction of realizing that all the components came together in a breathtaking display of precisely focused energy.
And then there's the fact that it is just way too much fun.
The Avondale Gun Club (Avondale, CO) has this beautiful space and they let me shoot on the 100yd range. There were some tires, plastic bottles, and this old paint thinner can. I set it up on a tire, loaded the New Englander walked to 80 yds and fired...nothing happened. Now, I usually don't miss at that distance, and I was recording it, so damn!. So I went back, loaded the Great Plains and repeated the shot. Again with the nothing. Third shot (2nd with the GP) and this happened...not that I saw it (the eyes, the smoke, etc.) So I went back for the New Englander. Fourth shot turned the can. So now I'm curious...did I actually hit the cans the first two times. Photos do not lie. (Well, not these ones). The reason the can did not fall over is because the .54 caliber ball propelled by 72 grains of powder blew through the can so powerfully that the little weight at the bottom of the can was enough to hold it. But the damage to the back shows the force of impact, ripping the thin metal to shreds.
When asked why I enjoy this odd (to some - scary to others) diversion, it is because of the slow, meticulous, zen-like preparation of the firearm, the calm breathing and strength to hold the target through open sights, the explosion of ignition, the fullness of the sound, the smell of the smoke, and satisfaction of realizing that all the components came together in a breathtaking display of precisely focused energy.
And then there's the fact that it is just way too much fun.
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