I mentioned that I went to an all-shotgun match. Well, this is the consequence of shooting over 200 rounds with a borrowed shotgun which is just a little too long.
My shoulder? My shoulder is fine, just fine. The slight bruising left after a day or two, with no residual soreness or marking.
My upper arm is, obviously, quite another story.
For the almost-full story, check out Random Nuclear Strikes webpage. Go here , then here, then here. He's missing a couple of stages, but these were only the last three and, frankly, by the time we got to them we were all so hammered (and I mean this in the sorest sense of the term) we didn't really much give a sh*t about taking pictures. We just wanted to get through the ten stages.
The good news is that the match was originally scheduled for 12 stages, but the host club (Tri-County Gun Club) decided at the last minute that they couldn't field enough set-up folks to actually build that many stages. Thank GAWD!
Here's a picture of the last stage we shot that hot, oppressive afternoon.
Actually, this is about one third of the stage. It was only 16 rounds ... one round each (SLUG rounds!) at each of 16 IPSC targets) but after the previous stages it seemed almost too much to endure.
I'll tell you what was 'too much to endure'. It was the 29 round stage ... all shot (and you had better be using #6 shot, or larger) that was the 8th of ten stages for the squad I was on. There were some stage design issues, and when I shot my first shot at THAT stage I inadvertently hit a cable which activated a clay-pigeon thrower. (It was that kind of stage: very interesting, challenging, but after spending 6 hours on the range in ninety degree heat, it was a cruel variation on a sadistic theme.) The consequences were that I had already pumped out 4 or 5 shots before I realized that the clay-pigeon thrower had 'malfunctioned', so I had to reshoot the stage. I really did NOT want to reshoot, but had no or little choice. I have to tell you that I dreaded every single shot on that reshoot, because every . . . single . . . shot . . . hurt like bejimineeze.
I did it, but I felt stupid every time I pulled the trigger.
Why would a reasonable man endure such needless pain?
Either Machismo, or stupidity.
You choose. (I know what MY choice is!)
Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!)Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!) Bang (Ouch!)
I've spent the past four days trying to convince myself that it was "A Fun Match!"
I'm not that good a liar.
It was an exercise in pain and frustration, there was too much shooting on a day that was too hot to reasonably endure, and it definately kicked my ass.
Not to mention my shoulder, and upper arm.
The good news was that the match fee was only $15.
The bad news was that each and every one of us spent between sixty and seventy five dollars on ammunition, and if anyone got through the match without bruising themselves badly I don't know who it was. I'm sure somebody there didn't hurt for five days after the match, but I think I don't want to hear about it.
My philosophy is, if I hurt a lot, EVERYBODY had better hurt a lot!
Fortunately, my squad buddy Phil, A.K.A. The Anologue Kid, must hurt as much as I do. At least, he says he does.
And the after-action pictures indicate that he got badly hammered, as did Norm the Ungrateful (good for him, the ungrateful wretch!)
Note that the proud poppa of purple pustilence on the left is Norm. The other dude is The Analogue Kid; he of Redneck Fame.
Here's the REALLY good news: Norm got a bad sunburn on his nose. It looks like 2nd degree burns, to me. I hope.
Momma ain't gonna be kissing your nose to make it well in the fore-seeable future with that pustilential ooze, Normie. Small solace to me, but you take what you can get in this man's world.
Good Heavens! I'm still a cranky, hurtin' misanthropic mess who wishes misfortune on his friends! Shradenfreud Reigns after the All-Shotgun Match From Heck.
Well, whatever it takes. I'll know better than to shoot a 200 round shotgun match with a misfit loaner shotgun NEXT year. ( Insert your definition of "experience" HERE.)
Oh, by the way, if you're still interested in how the match looked ... you can read The Analogue Kid's description here and here.
Good luck. If you plan on shooting the All-Shotgun Practical match at TCGC next year (this was touted as the "First Annual", you're gonna need it . . .
. . . You stone-cold iron-man you.
(BTW, the results from the match are here.