Shooty Goodness

A couple of co-workers goaded me into going to the range with them today.  They did it like this:  (On Monday.)

"Hey, Drang, busy Friday?"  

"Not sure, why?" 

"Wanna go to the range?"  

"Sure."  

Sneaky bastards...

Anyway, once again proved that a snubnosed .38 Special--the Heller Commemorative 442 or Dad's nickel-plated Model 10--kicks harder than a .45 ACP.  Either the Colt Combat Commander, or the Jerry Miculek 625.

Was astonished--and somewhat elated--to discover that the (as yet unmodified or tuned) Combat Commander feeds hollow point rounds just fine!  (It's mid-80's vintage, when, if a 1911 wasn't a Colt, it was a licensed copy from Norway, Argentina, or maybe Mexico; IIRC, Detonics was just getting tooled up, here in Seattle.  The Star PD was a rarity.)  Still need to have an extended beaver-tail grip safety put on it.  And sights.

Also put a quarter brick or so through Mrs. Drang's "new" .22--that is, the .22 she got from her father.  A Winchester 62 pump, I suspect it was used for varmint control and stewpot augmentation back on the family farm in Kansas, pre-WWII.   (It was jointly owned with his brother; there was also a Monkey Wards' 20 gauge shotgun that went to a cousin.)  Firing offhand, standing, with "whatever" ammunition I had laying around, I was hardly capable of pinpoint accuracy, but I was able to keep all the shots in a "minute of rabbit" area at 25 yards.

Also proved, once again, that my skills as a marksmanship coach are weak.  I mean, I can tell beginners all day "Try to move your hand higher on the grip" or "Lean into it; spread your feet a bit farther" but the fact is, I know what works for me, but that doesn't mean I can translate that to others. Need more training...

Fun Gun show tomorrow; need to go stock back up on ammo, in case of zombies...