Well I had the afternoon to do whatever I wanted because the work I was doing couldn't be done because of the wind. I decided a range trip was in order.
I went to my operator's course that I train at. I was shooting my Springfield Armory TRP and my Smith&Wesson M&P 15. I was shooting WWB 230gr .45 and Federal XM193 55gr FMJ.
The weather was sunny, with a north wind of roughly 20 mph. The temperature was 70f.
I set up my steel target (operators only shoot at steel), and parked my vehicle about 60 yards away. I was going to be shooting from 50 and 25 yards. I geared up and commenced to beating the **** out of my target with lead. DING DING DING DING. Awesome.
I spent the better part of an hour just treating that steel target like Osama Bin Laden. I worked on shooting from different positions, weapon malfunctions, transitions, and a couple of other things. I was ****ing rockin it.
I ended up going through about 250 5.56 rounds and 75 .45. You can really burn through the ammo when you're shooting by yourself.
Alright, my skills were honed like a scalpel, time to pack my **** up. I laid my AR back on top of the case I brought it in and reloaded my TRP with SD ammo (Remington Saber 230gr HP +p).
That's when it happened. It happened so fast that it didn't seem real.
My brother came rolling up and parked beside me. There was a new Dodge charger a little ways behind him coming at us. I asked him who was following him, and he said he didn't know anyone was following him (EPIC FAIL). So this nice shiny charger pulls out into my bean field, I mean operator's course, and rolls down the window.
At this point I was like, " **** IT WE'LL DO IT LIVE ".
I walk up to the vehicle and who is it but Johnny Law. This is how the **** went down:
Me: Hi.
Him: Hi. We got a complaint of shooting going on.
Me: Oh, I didn't figure I'd get called on, we farm all the ground right around here, and know most of the people too.
Him: Well, its no big deal, but I had to come out here at least.
Me: Alright, no problem.
Him: Your backstop looks a little low. (looks harder) Nah I guess its alright.
MOTHER ****ER YOU DON'T KNOW WHO YOU'RE TALKING TO I NEVER MISS.
Me: Yeah, I haven't had a problem with it so far. But anyways, I'm about to wrap it up out here, so you won't be getting anymore calls today.
At this point we both audibly lol'd because of the way I said "today".
Him: Alright, have a nice day.
Me: You too.
He pulled out and left. That's right son, this is my house. You just come here and check on me and ****.
I walked back over to my brother who was still sitting in the truck just watching the whole thing. *****.
He said that he just saw the cop at a neighbor (1/4 mile away from where I was shooting) before he came here. I know who these people are. They are ****ing losers. Now I'm pissed.
10 minutes later
I have my **** packed and my brother left. I'm just sitting there, proud of my epic ninja operator skills that I was working on. I was about to pull away when I thought to myself, "**** them".
I got my rifle back out and did TWO count them TWO, not one, but TWO mag dumps BUMP FIRING into the ground. I swear to god the feeling that bump firing gave me was better than sex.
Mission accomplished, return to base.
I went to my operator's course that I train at. I was shooting my Springfield Armory TRP and my Smith&Wesson M&P 15. I was shooting WWB 230gr .45 and Federal XM193 55gr FMJ.
The weather was sunny, with a north wind of roughly 20 mph. The temperature was 70f.
I set up my steel target (operators only shoot at steel), and parked my vehicle about 60 yards away. I was going to be shooting from 50 and 25 yards. I geared up and commenced to beating the **** out of my target with lead. DING DING DING DING. Awesome.
I spent the better part of an hour just treating that steel target like Osama Bin Laden. I worked on shooting from different positions, weapon malfunctions, transitions, and a couple of other things. I was ****ing rockin it.
I ended up going through about 250 5.56 rounds and 75 .45. You can really burn through the ammo when you're shooting by yourself.
Alright, my skills were honed like a scalpel, time to pack my **** up. I laid my AR back on top of the case I brought it in and reloaded my TRP with SD ammo (Remington Saber 230gr HP +p).
That's when it happened. It happened so fast that it didn't seem real.
My brother came rolling up and parked beside me. There was a new Dodge charger a little ways behind him coming at us. I asked him who was following him, and he said he didn't know anyone was following him (EPIC FAIL). So this nice shiny charger pulls out into my bean field, I mean operator's course, and rolls down the window.
At this point I was like, " **** IT WE'LL DO IT LIVE ".
I walk up to the vehicle and who is it but Johnny Law. This is how the **** went down:
Me: Hi.
Him: Hi. We got a complaint of shooting going on.
Me: Oh, I didn't figure I'd get called on, we farm all the ground right around here, and know most of the people too.
Him: Well, its no big deal, but I had to come out here at least.
Me: Alright, no problem.
Him: Your backstop looks a little low. (looks harder) Nah I guess its alright.
MOTHER ****ER YOU DON'T KNOW WHO YOU'RE TALKING TO I NEVER MISS.
Me: Yeah, I haven't had a problem with it so far. But anyways, I'm about to wrap it up out here, so you won't be getting anymore calls today.
At this point we both audibly lol'd because of the way I said "today".
Him: Alright, have a nice day.
Me: You too.
He pulled out and left. That's right son, this is my house. You just come here and check on me and ****.
I walked back over to my brother who was still sitting in the truck just watching the whole thing. *****.
He said that he just saw the cop at a neighbor (1/4 mile away from where I was shooting) before he came here. I know who these people are. They are ****ing losers. Now I'm pissed.
10 minutes later
I have my **** packed and my brother left. I'm just sitting there, proud of my epic ninja operator skills that I was working on. I was about to pull away when I thought to myself, "**** them".
I got my rifle back out and did TWO count them TWO, not one, but TWO mag dumps BUMP FIRING into the ground. I swear to god the feeling that bump firing gave me was better than sex.
Mission accomplished, return to base.
