I’m a 40-something woman and I grew up in the South and yet somehow until last week I had never fired a gun before. I strangely had several friends who also expressed interest in taking the Colorado Hunter Safety class, but somehow no one actually ended up taking it with me. So last Monday night, running a bit late, I waltzed into a sixth-grade classroom at Basalt Middle School and could only find a seat in the very front of the class. The very first thing the instructor did was pick up a rifle and proceed to tell us how to tell if the gun was not loaded. He was very nonchalant and stuck a thumb here, a finger there, tra la tra la, now you students come up one at a time and check to see if the weapon is unloaded. I was in the front of the class! I was going to be the SECOND person to have to do this, the first girl! I was terrified. I managed to stagger up there and pick up the weapon with my left hand, above the trigger, like he told us, and somehow I managed to press the right button, open the chamber, and make sure the gun was not loaded, all the while NOT pointing the barrel at anyone in the class.
Next I find out that we have to go to the shooting range on Friday and actually FIRE the weapon. Thankfully the instructor tells us we are not being graded on our accuracy; in fact, it’s not even necessary for us to hit the target. But if we pick up the gun incorrectly out of his car, or fail to check to make sure the gun is not loaded, or handle the weapon in an unsafe manner (point the barrel through his car, point it at another student, or carry it incorrectly), we would automatically fail the course, no matter how well we did on the written test. I’m completely petrified at this point, sure I’m going to fail, and feeling like I did in college when I found out I had to give a presentation to the entire graphics department in order to graduate.
The class is 4 nights, 3 hours each night, and the shooting test will take place before the last class on Friday night. I coerce my husband into taking me to the range on the one evening we have off, and we get to the range with maybe 15 minutes left before it closes. I just feel like I will be a little more comfortable on Friday if I have at least fired a gun one or two times. He shows me how to load the gun, how to take the safety off, and how to fire it. It’s loud, but I already know this from my hunting experiences with him. So after he shoots once or twice, it’s my turn. He tells me to “gently” squeeze the trigger. All I remember is that it’s louder when you are actually holding the gun yourself, and the gun itself seems to have a mind of its own. It’s a 12-gauge shotgun, so I may have actually hit a bit of the wall, through sheer luck, but I make a mental note that if I ever want to hit something I’m aiming at, I’m going to have to account for the recoil. For the second shot I learn how to put a shell in the chamber myself. I also learn that I am already afraid of the recoil and pretty much hit nothing but dirt above the target wall this time. My sweet spouse insists that I shoot the gun one more time, then he loads 3 shells into the shotgun and shows me how you can shoot it multiple times without reloading because it is a semiautomatic. He’s so comfortable with the gun and he fires off 3 shots boom boom boom and I’m sure he hit his target even though I have recently learned that although he’s left handed, he’s right eye dominant, and dangit, he should be missing the target too.
Well! I have learned something. I am now even more terrified of the shooting test on Friday. Not only am I a terrible shot, but I’m afraid of the gun. Everyone says, “you’ll be using a .22 for the test; you’ll be fine.” This means nothing to me. All I can think about is how loud that gun is and that there will be a lot of people watching. On Friday I’m feeling downright nauseous, and I’m planning to go late to the range, because we have to shoot in groups, and I figure if I’m one of the last ones there there won’t be anyone left to watch me. So I pull up to the range at about 5:30, hoping that at least two groups of five will be done shooting by now. But alas, the instructor forgot the safety glasses and earplugs, and no one has fired a single shot yet.
Okay, at this point I have sidled up to some of the other women in the class, and I’m fretting about the test. I am the only one in the class who has never done this. I watch the first group go. They shoot five times sitting down (this makes you more stable) and five times standing up. They all seem quite comfortable. They return the guns to the car and collect their targets, Our instructor has said these guns haven’t been sighted in, but plenty of folks seem to have hit their targets. My turn. The women in the class are ready to go and they convince me to join their group. I’m the first to grab a gun. I try to grab the smallest gun, only to find out that the instructor brought that one for the two kids in the class. Okay, I’m embarrassed, but I’ll get over it. I grab another gun, gently pull it from the car (hands away from the trigger!) and immediately check the action. A spent cartridge comes flying out and this flusters me a bit. I check it again even though it’s a single shot, and then I march off towards the target area. We all sit down and I have to ask the instructor how to load the rifle since I’ve never done it before. I’m delighted to see that the .22 bullet is tiny and have already noticed that these guns are MUCH quieter than the intimidating shotgun. We are allowed to shoot whenever we’re ready, and continue until we’ve shot 5 times. Okay, this is not bad at all.
Next we have to stand up and shoot five more times. The ammo is behind us on tables, so we have to be careful about where we point the barrel of the gun. As I’m shooting my second five shots, the instructor tells me to leave the last spent cartridge in the gun instead of ejecting it. This should give the next round of students something to think about when they check the action. Aha! This is what happened to me! A little trick. Well he sure scared me with his little trick. I manage to finish and leave the last spent cartridge in the gun. I take the gun back to the car and wait to see my target. The target is an 8-1/2 x 11 sheet of paper with a silhouette of an elk on it. For the first five shots we were supposed to aim between the antlers, and for the second five shots we were supposed to aim for the “vital area” of the animal, which was marked with a bullseye. What a surprise! I didn’t hit the animal with a single shot. But 9 of the 10 shots hit the paper, and the pattern isn’t too incredibly terrible. I noticed with my very first standing shot that the barrel of the gun is much less steady when you are not bracing it on your legs. I squeezed the trigger accidentally with my third shot so I assuming that is the one that missed the paper entirely. I learn firsthand why you should wait to load your gun until you are ready to shoot, why you should keep your fingers away from the trigger, and why you should always leave the safety on. As it turns out, I think shooting a .22 is actually kind of fun, and if I had one of my own I would go back and practice with it. I also managed to pass the shooting portion of the class, so if I can just pass the written test, I will be awarded a hunter safety card.