What I Did On My Summer Vacation

I scheduled vacation last week because Sis was having surgery on Monday, and needed someone to chauffeur her to and from the surgery center and to babysit her for the first thirty-six hours afterwards. By Wednesday morning, I was supposed to be back home, and Friday was a scheduled range day.

Well, things didn’t go exactly as planned. According to the doctor, the surgery went well, but Sis spent the rest of Monday and all of Tuesday in more pain than she expected. The doc said that it was probably because of the CO2 introduced into her system during the procedure.

Despite her intense aversion to medicines in general and narcotics specifically, she took pretty close to the full dosage of both the Motrin and Percocet that was prescribed until Wednesday. She was finally able to get good slee sleep well Tuesday night. When she woke up Wednesday morning much improved, I started making preparations to return home.

Well, Sis had a few errands that she needed wanted to have done, and would I please take care of them for her. Sucker that I am, I did what she asked of me.  By the time I was done, it was late enough that I decided to stay another night.

Thursday morning, she decided that she needed to go out to take care of some other shit, and although she had stopped taking the narcotic pain reliever, she still wasn’t supposed to drive.  Yeah, I stayed and toted her around to Kohls, Walmart, Hobby Lobby, and Bed Bath and Beyond.  I think that was all.  She also asked me to mow the grass for her, since abdominal surgery = no lifting or pushing of even remotely heavy objects for several weeks.  Before I could get the mower out of the garage, a thunderstorm showed up.

Fuck!  I’ll stay one more night, and won’t get to shoot any of my guns Friday morning, since all I brought with me were my carry guns.

Then she woke me up at 0-dark-30.  She was in pain, shivering, and unable to get comfortable enough to sleep.  And insistent that she didn’t want to take any more pain medicine.  I wasn’t particularly sympathetic.  Or even polite.  I escorted her back to her bed, arranged the blankets over her, refilled her water, and insisted that she eat a couple crackers and take a 600mg ibuprofen that she was given to supplement the Percocet.  And explained that if she was going to be a stubborn ass and not take her meds, she would have to suffer her pain in solitude, because I had no patience for it.  Especially since I was already short on sleep and was supposed to meet Shooting Buddy at the range at 0800.

I eventually got back to sleep, and made it to the range on time.  SB was actually early, which was a first.

Usually, we meet on Saturday mornings, and typically have the place to ourselves for at least a couple hours.  Not on Friday.  The place was wall-to-wall assholes.  Within moments of arriving, I was lectured on the need not to give out the gate code to my guests (since the card reader has not yet been repaired) by a guy who knows that I’ve been a member for over five years and have never gotten caught been suspected of breaking any of the rules, especially the ones that will result in immediate membership revocation.

A couple minutes later, the same asshole pointed out a new requirement that guests sign a waiver on every visit.  Liability, you understand.  We trotted off to the clubhouse to take care of the requisite paperwork.  Fucking lawyers.  Ought to shoot every damn one of them.  Twice.

At this point, I’m anything but a happy camper.  The facility is excellent, and the dues are minimal for value received.  They are continuing to add/improve ranges.  But last year, they backed up the due date for the annual dues and the date on which one’s access would be disabled by three months.  Without notice.  Yeah, they probably discussed it at a meeting, but I live an hour away and do not to attend.  Such things should be publicized before they go into effect.  Same with the waiver requirement.  And I have no need for some jackass fucktard sonofabitch lecturing me on the rules.  I know not to give out gate codes.  And I had gotten less sleep than I would have liked.  And thanks to Sis, I had nothing of my own to shoot.  And the rifle range is packed, so even with open firing positions, neither I nor SB were interested in doing that dance.

So, we headed over to what is known as the pistol range, with target stands at twenty-five and fifty yards.  Rimfire rifles are permitted.  There are thirty or so firing positions, and there were only two other assholes there.  We set up, and SB and his kid started playing battleship:

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Within a couple minutes, one of the assholes who was at the other end of the range wandered down and started a conversation.  He’s on the board of directors or some such shit, and wondered why we chose that range.  He repeated several times that we weren’t doing anything wrong, although he did say that there had been some talk of banning all shoulder-fired weapons from that range.  He pointed out the adjacent “utility range” with benches and stools, and target stands at fifty and one hundred yards.  He just wanted to understand why we made what seemed to him to be a peculiar choice.

When I joined back on ’09, the utility range was known as the rimfire range, and I had never checked it out.  Rifles (including centerfire) were legal on the pistol range at that time, and have you ever tried to hit a 3/4″ dot with open sights at fifty yards?  I claimed ignorance of the utility range, and eventually the nosy fuck went back where he came from.

After they had shot up a box of ammo without either of them winning the game, even at twenty-five yards, we moved over to the utility range so SB could test some of his -06 reloads and verify scope zero.  Finally, we were alone.  For thirty minutes, anyway.  I got a little trigger time under the guise of verifying his results.

We then went in search of a place to shoot pistols.  Both pistol pits that I usually use were occupied, so we went to a newly constructed one that I had not even seen before.  I knew it existed, but that was all.  SB had recently retrofitted his Glock 19 with adjustable sights, and he shot a couple mags dialing it in.  I challenged him to a game of battleship with the rest of the 100-round box of 9mm that he hadn’t used for sight adjustment.  I would shoot my backup – the KelTec PF-9, and he would shoot his 19.  He accepted, and we started taking turns at seven yards.

I jumped out to an early lead, but couldn’t finish him off before we ran out of ammo.  He had some 45 ammo that he wanted to burn, so we continued the game with his Glock 36.  The sights weren’t quite right for me, and my attempts at Kentucky Windage resulted in lots of very near misses.  I finally won the game, with less than a mag of ammo remaining.

Did I mention that by this time it was hotter than Lucifer’s nutsack?  Well, it was.  I am convinced that the game went on as long as it did because of reactions to the heat – elevated heart rate, shakiness, etc.  It also could have been because we both suck.  But the heat was definitely a factor.  All the aforementioned assholes had bailed.

After a few minutes in the shade to cool off and re-hydrate, it was decided that we would grab some grub (it was 1330).  Off we went to a nearby Mexican joint that serves some of the best food I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating.  SB had to cover my meal, because somehow I had managed to leave my wallet at Sis’s house.  We parted ways, and I went in search of some air conditioned space in which to continue relaxing.  A nice end to what started as a shitty day.

When I got to Sis’s place, I found her still in bed.  A quick check of the weather forecast indicated a high probability of thunderstorms again, so I decided to brave the heat and wake her up with the mower.  No way I was going to get stuck mowing on Saturday.

Two hours later, the grass was done.  Fifteen minutes after that, the first rumbles of thunder were heard.  Sis was up by then, so we spent the evening hanging out, talking, and watching TV.  She didn’t wake me up Friday night.  I don’t know if she took her meds or not.

Saturday morning, I returned home.  I was shocked when I walked in the door.  Despite temperatures in the middle to upper 90s all week, and the air conditioner completely off, the temperature was only 81.  Insulation is a beautiful thing.  I turned the A/C back on, unpacked, and stayed up as late as possible to switch my sleep schedule back where it needs to be for work.

Now, I’m going to lay down and try to get a nap, since tonight is my Monday, and vacation is over.  I have two more vacation days to last me the rest of the year.

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3 Responses to What I Did On My Summer Vacation

  1. lpcard says:

    Damn, that was a busy weekend for you. Glad you got some trigger time in. BTW, I have a new toy…

    • alaskan454 says:

      Yeah, I read about your toy. After getting used to striker fired Glocks, the DA/SA thing is probably going to take some getting used to. The 220 is a good gun, I owned one at one point.

      No idea when I will get another day off for range escort purposes, though. I’ll let you know. Are you on the range waiting list yet?

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