Morning at the Range

Big Mike called me last night at quarter to ten, identified himself (overreacting to the Experian data heist, I imagine), and informed me he was going shooting at 9:00 in the AM tomorrow, the implication being that if I could drag my fat, hungover, old ass out of bed that early then I could join him.

Caution and trigger warning: politically incorrect, insensitive, and profane language ahead.  Read at your own risk, and if you whine about anything I'll make fun of you.


I hit the sack around midnight, and just about the time I was really sawing the old wood my neighbors showed up in the parking lot outside my window with their car stereo cranked up to 12.  I debated calling the law, but they've done this before and long before the cops show up on a noise complaint they'll have the stereo off and the house dark.  I also thought about pulling my pants on and going outside to tell them to keep it down, but my arthritis  has been raising hell with me the past few days, so by the time I got downstairs they'd likely be shut down and quiet.  Then there's the added fact that I'd be armed, and these people being your basic porch monkeys their response to a request to turn the music off would very likely result in a bunch of Tyrone theater and turning the music up, which might easily escalate into my shooting some silly SOB that desperately needed it, and we all know where that's likely to end up.

Officer, Columbus PD: "Did you shoot this porch monkey man?"
Mad Jack: "I did."
CPD: "Why?"
MJ: "Well hell, the son-of-a-bitch just needed shootin', is all."

This is truth here.  Why isn't this good enough for the police?  Haven't any of you run into some asinine SOB that's giving you and everyone within earshot a bad time of it, and just needs shooting?  Why is that against the law?  Why do people get upset about it?  It isn't like I'm wrong about the guy.

I went back to bed, and sure enough they shut the stereo off in a few minutes.  I've got to figure out a strategy to deal with these ass holes.

So I'm up.  I drink my coffee and eat a bowl of cereal while staring at the local news like a stupe, then it's off to the range.  Mike elects to go to L.E.P.D. Firearms, Range, and Training. Just what LEPD stands for, I couldn't tell you.  Given that this is Columbus, Ohio and governed by moonbats, I suppose it could mean Liberally Enlightened Politically Dynamic Firearms, Range and Training, but perhaps not.

The bad news about L.E.P.D. is that they won't let you shoot steel ammo on their range.  You want more bad news?  Ammo is a long way from cheap at L.E.P.D., and since yours truly is a fathead of the first magnitude, I didn't bring any good old regular .45 ammo, and so had to buy two boxes.  So that's the worst that's going to happen to you at L.E.P.D.

The good news about L.E.P.D. is that the staff is knowledgeable, congenial, thrifty, polite, trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and let's not go overboard here.  Suffice to say that I met them, and I'd go out drinking with any of them.  They're good people, and if you have a gun problem (which one guy shooting next to us did) they'll help you out.  Like I said, nice people.

Targets are Further Away Than They Look

The other good news is that the range is well illuminated, which is a necessity for Big Mike and me these days.  My eyes are headed south to the point where I'm not sure which is in worse shape, my back, my feet, or my eyes.  My mind is sharp as a butter knife.

Warning!  Pay Attention!

They're serious about the steel cased ammunition, and they politely confiscate it from you on your way in, then return it to you on your way out.  Okay, no sweat.  If I owned the place, I'd probably do the same thing.

Another nice thing about L.E.P.D. is the ventilation system.  There's always fresh, cool air blowing over the shooters, which both Mike and I really enjoy.  There is nothing to equal 95° weather outside and 105° weather inside, which is what you'll find at The Bullet Stop. I like the Bullet Stop, but I like filtered A/C better.

For Lazy People

And, if you're too damned lazy to clean your pistol after shooting it, which a lot of us are, they'll do it for you for a sawbuck.  I was tempted to have them clean my Ruger Mark II Government Model, but I was betting that they wouldn't take the whole gun down and clean it.  I'll pass, and do it myself.

Ruger Mark II

My first effort with my Ruger isn't bad, considering I haven't shot in a long while.  Still, I was kind of disappointed.  This is the result of three ten shot magazines at 25 feet, two hands standing.

Ruger, Second Target

Here is the second set of three mags I went through; 25 feet, two handed, standing, slow fire.  The last two magazines showed a tighter group.  It was during this round that my pistol started jamming because it was dirty.  I decided to switch to the .45.

Here's Big Mike's results with his .45 Kimber.  Nice, huh?  Mike wanted to call it a day after this, but I refused.  He still had ammo left, and there was every chance in the world he could improve on this group.

Big Mike's Kimber Results

Big Mike's Kimber

I dug out Big Nose Kate, my Springfield .45 V16.  I like shooting Kate, because the recoil is more like a gentle little .38 and the sights are sharp.  Some day I'd like to get around to having a three dot sight system installed on her.  Here are the results of two magazines at 25 feet, two handed grip, standing, slow fire.

Springfield V16 Results

Big Nose Kate

Having proven I can hit something with a .45, I hauled out Betsy.  This is a .45 caliber Springfield 1911 Mil Spec that I bought brand new in Florida for $400.  Eat your heart out.  My only regret is that I didn't buy three or four of these models on spec, as in six months the price had jumped to $450.  Anyway, Betsy has vestigial sights, which are good enough to get the job done.  She'll eat any kind of ammo I've ever fed her, and her trigger pull is light and crisp. 

Betsy

Here are the best results with Betsy.  I shot four magazines, two mags two handed, one right handed, and one left handed.  As it turns out, I didn't do too badly with my off-hand shooting.  This is at 25 yards, slow fire.

Betsy's Results

We both ended up with decent enough scores, and decided we'd had enough.  I wanted a cup of coffee and maybe a little something to eat, so Big Mike suggested Panera's.

I hate Panera's.

Their menu makes no sense to me.  They'll use a half-dozen adjectives to one noun, and nothing carries a label.  Instead, they use a description.  So if you'd like, say, a ham sandwich, you're out of luck.  There is no ham sandwich at Panera's.  Instead, there's four slices of succulent premium grade smoked ham, invitingly surrounded by freshly picked tomatoes, crisp green Romaine lettuce, irresistible thin sliced Czechoslovakian onion... I want a ham sandwich and chips.  I can't find anything like that here.

Then there's the clientele.  The men are bearded and all look a bit light in the loafers.  The women are busy being healthy and feeling good about themselves for eating food that wasn't harvested by stoop labor in some third world nation.  I got news for you, ladies.  The tomatoes were grown in Delta, Ohio, and hand picked by Mexican stoop labor who are all paid in cash at the end of the day.  I can also tell anyone who wants to know that picking tomatoes is going to be the toughest $25 per day you ever made in your life.

These are the jobs being taken away from our citizens by Mexican illegals.  Just think how many fat ass welfare queens you'd see out in those fields if not for the Mexicans.  Right?

Panera Bread - An Establishment I Detest

When it's time to go I head out to the highway and promptly miss my exit, which is really no big deal except it looks like I've run into a construction zone on the beltway.  Traffic is backed up from hell to breakfast and it's all stop and go.  No one knows which lane you actually should be in - it turns out the hammer lane is the only one going through.

Construction?

Perhaps Not

Crane in the Background

Accident - A Bad One

Tractor Trailer Accident

I caught a glimpse of this as I passed it.  The tractor is completely demolished, and there are one or more vehicles down a steep embankment in a gully. 

Moonbats scream about gun violence night and day, carp about sensible gun control and every other fascist thing under the sun that involves removing our civil rights - civil rights that the Democrats, moonbats, SJWs, Feminazis, Progressives, and Antifa members are more than willing to give up.  I say that all of those fascist self-styled do-gooders are welcome to live in another country, where the prohibition against citizens owning firearms is working out so well, and is the foremost catalyst to establishing equality among the sexes, races, and religions.

Zimbabwe comes to mind.

Here's my real beef.  Traffic accidents, especially bad ones like the one I saw today, can be prevented.  The silly fuck that caused this accident should have his license pulled for at least three years, then have to attend and complete a safe driving course that he will have to pay for.  But I don't think that's what will happen to him.  Instead, he'll get a fine and points against his license.  And that's it.

In my mind that's just not good enough.  I'd like to see drivers like this one eliminated from the road completely.  Just get them off the road and don't let them back on.  Use electronics to determine if someone is driving without a license or valid insurance, and if they are, throw 'em all in jail and impound the car.

You may not agree, but that's my not-so-humble opinion.  Now I see I've got to wait two hours until happy hour.  Cheers!