Second Time: Washoe County Regional Shooting Facility

GB took me to the range again, but this time instead of going to the Indoor Safe Shot Lead-free Range here in town, we drove out to the Washoe County Regional Shooting Facility on Pyramid Highway. We got a late start on our range trip, again—haha. This time because GB was meeting with a brother of our church for one of his after-baptism lessons. I hid upstairs and did my homework, munched on chips and read Ender’s Game while GB had his lesson. After he was good and learned, GB came upstairs and approached me with the idea of going out to the range.

I was very nervous about going because I didn’t know what the new facilities, staff and patrons there would be like, but I was game to go. It was now after noon and I hadn’t eaten but my studying munchies. I was worried about heading out to the range without eating because there’s nothing nearby if I get hungry, but I was only barely hungry and didn’t want to eat before I left either! Haha. We decided to skip the food, pack up our gear and go.

GB carried our gear to the car again and this caused GP significant distress again. We have to develop a range routine that doesn’t bother her as much. We brought GB’s range bag with the 9 mm handgun in it and the hard rifle case with the shotgun and the .22 rifle in it . We made a quick stop at Wal-Mart for more 9 mm ammo. I waited in the truck with the guns and looked around for GB’s range sunglasses. I got good GB-brownie-points for finding them. And I found two 9 mm cartridges while I was rooting around!

When GB got back with the ammo, we began the 45-minute drive out to the range. It was a beautiful drive. We saw the wild horses and plenty of land for sale. I’d like to buy a chunk of property out from town like that. GB mentioned that he would too and I thought that was a particular thing for someone who wants to move back to Texas ASAP to say. I asked him if Nevada was growing on him and he said it was! This made me super-happy.

My mom, dad, little brother, aunts and uncles, grandparents, step-dad and step-grandparents are all here. I was born and raised just a hop away from here. My dad still lives in the house he grew up in and that he raised me in. I don’t want to lose all that. I’ll go to Texas to keep GB happy, but I at least need my momma to come out with me in order for me to be happy there and even then, I’d rather stay here if I can.

Some might say the range is too far out from town to be convenient, but drives like this one are happy experiences for me—they’re almost as fun as shooting itself.

Cruising along on Pyramid Highway, I pointed out our turn just in time for us not to pull the fabulous braking u-turn that we did last time. We drove down a long road and passed one outdoor range that was empty. Hmmm. Empty, fenced off and padlocked shut. GB phoned ahead, they were supposed to be open. But I saw an awning ahead and said, I think that we have to go over there. And over there we went. There was a small building with bathrooms and a vending machine and a Washoe County and US Flag out front. Someone had made a Washoe County seal out of the rocks in the yard of the building. There was a long thin parking lot, paralleling the awning, in which we parked… Now what?

GB went over and chatted with someone while I started getting all of my stuff together in the truck. He discovered that we couldn’t shoot one of the firearms that we had brought because we didn’t have the right ammo for it, but the other two (the .22 rifle and the 9 mm Hi Point handgun) were good to go. We grabbed our gear and entered the range through an opening in the chain link fence which ran between the awning and the thin parking lot. They were having a target break and we were free to walk around and get our gear ready. The range lady told us to go to the first bench and we did. I got my ears out and on, but GB didn’t. GB had his eyes on, but I didn’t. LOL. Half and half.

We went to the range trailer and paid for our range fees and our targets, it was under $15.00 for the both of us. She asked if we were both shooters, if I was teaching him or if he was teaching me. GB said that he was teaching me and that this was my second time shooting. She explained that during target changing time we had to have our weapons pointed down range, action open. GB asked me if I knew what action open meant and I said I did. It means to go like that and I gestured racking the slide. I felt silly that I didn’t know how to explain what it meant, but I knew what to do! We went down to our bench, put on the other half of our safety gear and otherwise got situated.

GB put these stickers on our target so that he could shoot at one sticker and I at the other. I still have mine : ) It’s sticking on the refrigerator door. The Hi Point’s magazine was picking on me, it jammed with my magazine, but not with GB’s. I thought it was something I was doing in loading my magazine, but when GB loaded it, it still jammed. Darn magazine!

It was harder shooting at this range than at the indoor range because I didn’t have the same type of target and I couldn’t have the target as close. With the zombie target, the tweaked aim of the Hi Point was easier to figure out because I could aim for his palm and hit his fingernail and then I had a visual distance difference. I could reason that out by thinking well if it was that off on the palm, then to hit his nose, I need to aim for his eyebrow.

I haven’t figured out how to do that with the sticker targets—they’re so plain, it all looks alike to me. I don’t have any measurement landmarks. I think GB and I decided that you have to aim lower and further to the left than what you actually want to hit. GB and I took turns shooting the Hi Point. I got sick of shooting the Hi Point, not because I wasn’t hitting what I wanted to, which I wasn’t. That’s all apart of learning. But because my thumb was killing me! (And it still hurts even though it’s been a week and a half since we went now).

So I didn’t want to shoot anymore. I was just gonna sit down and watch GB shoot or read the book I brought. But GB had a better idea: switch guns. He busted out the .22 rifle. He had meant to oil it before we came and so it was a little difficult to keep the action open for target breaks and to get it to close again after them. It jammed a couple of times on me too. But it was a breeze to shoot. It was easier for me to hold onto than the Hi Point. It shot where it aimed. It didn’t hurt my thumb. I had much more fun with the .22. And made more holes in my sticker target with the .22. I shot it left-handed, but I had long sleeves on and I was careful so I didn’t get any hot brass on me. The rifle ejects it far enough to the right that it flies over my right arm just fine.

Every time there was a target break, GB and I would go out to service our target and we’d end up the last ones back even though our target was one of the closest targets! What’s up with that?!?

When we were through shooting, we piled our gear back in the truck and I went to the bathroom and washed my hands and face to get some of the lead off. The bathroom had a heater—how cool! It was windy and cold outside so it was nice having heat there when I was washing up in cold water! I didn’t want to leave the bathroom to go back out to the truck. Hehe.

We went home, washed our range clothes, stowed our gear and that was the end of our range trip. We still haven’t cleaned the .22 though. : ( Poor .22.

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