I'm usually not afraid to own up to doing something stupid. Here's this week's installment.

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Yesterday was open clays night at the local club. I enjoy going when I can, and go as often as I can. There are a few old-timers there, a few young shooters, and all ages in between. It's casual, laid-back, easy-going. No pressure at all, and often the old-timers will lean in for some mild coaching.

I had just gotten my stuff out of the truck, when a group of four was on the line and ready to shoot. One called to me: "want in on this round?" Surely I did, so I hurriedly got out my shotgun, grabbed a box of shells from my range bag, put on the ear pro and got in line. I was at the fifth station.

I enjoy being last in the sequence, honestly, because it's fun to watch others shoot, and nearly everyone shoots better than me. I enjoy seeing others shoot well.

Four shooters (three men, one woman) shoot, then it's my turn. I dropped a shell into the chamber and reached for the bolt release. It wasn't there! What the heck?!?!

At that moment, my brain turned to jelly. Thoughts absolutely raced through my head. "Close that bolt! Where's the release?! Pull the charging handle and let go! Where's the charging handle? Ah, crap! Have I lost another frickin' charging handle? What the heck is going on here?!"

And after about the twelfth panicked thought blew through my noggin within about a quarter-second, I felt my left hand slide smoothly away from my body.



Sshhhack!

And suddenly the brain-jelly solidified and I began to think clearly again! My thoughts were not flattering: "You frickin' idiot! You've got a pump gun in your hands!! Bonehead!"

"Pull!" Boom! Laughter. Yeah, I missed.
I couldn't stop chuckling at my own knuckleheadedness, though. (Is that a word?)

"So, what had happened was..."

I nearly always take my 11-87. Yesterday, my 11-87 and my 870 were side by side in the safe. (You know where this is going now, don't you?)
When I packed my gear yesterday morning, I paid way more attention to the hole at the end of the tube than anything else (I wanted to shoot 20-gauge instead of 12), and simply grabbed the wrong gun. Zipped it into its case, loaded it and my range bag into the truck, and didn't think a thing more about it.

Once I got my brain back, I shot reasonably well, but I'm sure I was wearing a stupid grin the whole evening, just laughing at myself.
Can't do anything but laugh, right?

At least you didn't pull a box of 20's for your 12 guage! And don't worry, I'm sure I'm not the only one here who loses more than his share of trap clays, even when using the "right" gun.

You're only 50% bonehead, you still haven't tried to pump your auto. But it's ok, you have more time.

My son matched the high score in the state for 4H sporting clays this year with an 870. He has a semi-auto too, but his coach flat-out refused to let him use it after he saw how well he was doing with the pump. Sure, you'll look like a philistine next to all the "gun golf" guys with their fancy over-unders, but it'll get it done!

quote:

Originally posted by architect:
At least you didn't pull a box of 20's for your 12

Done it! Thankfully, one of my friends went to shoot with me that night and had a couple of extra boxes.

quote:

Originally posted by wrightd:
You're only 50% bonehead, you still haven't tried to pump your auto. But it's ok, you have more time.

Yessir, there's still time!

quote:

Originally posted by 92fstech:
My son matched the high score in the state for 4H sporting clays this year with an 870. He has a semi-auto too, but his coach flat-out refused to let him use it after he saw how well he was doing with the pump. Sure, you'll look like a philistine next to all the "gun golf" guys with their fancy over-unders, but it'll get it done!

Way to go, Young 92FS!
I do sort of enjoy taking an 870 when the fancy fellers are shooting Berettas and Guarinis and such.

Mentioned in a previous thread: several months ago, I was getting my 11-87 out of the truck and thought first, "I should get myself a better gun sometime," and second, "I don't shoot well enough to justify a better gun." That evening my 11-87 decided it throw its charging handle some random direction. One of the old-timers handed me his Guarini and said, "finish your round." I loved it! I hit everything for a while. And then I thought, "Maybe I can get myself a better gun!" And right after that, my shooting turned to crap again.

Years ago when I was still CAS-ing….
Me and a good friend had nearly identical Stoeger SxS shotguns. On one stage I picked up what I thought was my shotgun. Mine and his were next to each other on the rack.
I did not realize it until I was under way on the stage and headed for a really good time. Clean stage so far.
My 12 gauge shells would not fit in his 20 gauge shotgun.
Luckily, my friend was running the timer.
We both realized what had happed at the same time. As I dropped my shells, he stepped forward just enough for me to reach his shotgun belt.
I loaded shells off of his belt and completed the stage.
I wound up with the third best time on that stage for the match.(yes, there were more than 3 people in the match)