I didn’t have today circled on the calendar, figuratively speaking, or anything like that. I guess it was around 9am that I decided spontaneously that it’d be a good morning to get back on the range and continue knocking off the rust. I grabbed a couple of pistols and headed in that direction.
Daybreak Point was bathed in an other-worldly green glow at that hour. If I hadn’t been there to put rounds downrange, I would’ve been just as content to sit, drink coffee and soak up the peace.
I loaded magazines on the tailgate of the Ranger, gathered up what I needed and walked through the woods to the firing line. First up was my P365 (9mm). Then came a much-anticipated reacquaintance with one of my favorite platforms.
It had been a very long time since I’d fielded John Moses Browning’s masterpiece in God’s Own Caliber. In this plastic-fantastic culture of ours, there’s nothing quite like an all-steel 1911 chambered in .45ACP.
It thumps pleasantly. It makes big holes.
I put most of my shots on improvised reactive targets, moving and firing from various positions. With six rounds remaining in my last magazine, I squared up to the target stand, drew a bead on the three-inch plastic lid at the center of the plywood disk and squeezed off six quick shots.
The volley obliterated the small red lid. Left behind were six clean holes that I could cover with the palm of my hand.
I’ll take that any day.
Getting behind a 45-caliber 1911 again was a pleasure. Although I’ll devote the majority of my range time to tools I carry regularly, you can be sure this beauty will get its share of attention.
It’s great to be here.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable