Northwoods

We spent this past weekend up in Wisconsin's Northwoods with Superdad's family. Saturday was a gorgeous spring day and the weather dictated that we simply must spend the day outside.

What does one do outside in the Northwoods on a beautiful spring day? Why, shoot guns, of course. I had never even seen a gun in real life (well, other than on a police officer) until I met Superdad, let alone shot one. I had no interest in it, I wasn't going to do it and no one could make me.

But then I met Superdad and he loved to hunt and I wanted to impress Superdad, so I agreed to go out to a shooting range with him so that he could site in his rifle for the upcoming deer season. While there he asked me if I wanted to shoot.

"No!" I thought to myself. "Um, sure," is what came out of my mouth.

What followed is an enjoyment of target shooting. No, I have no interest in going hunting, and I don't have to impress Superdad anymore, so I feel pretty confident saying I'll never go, but target shooting is a completely different matter. It brings out my usually repressed competitive nature.

On Saturday the shooting was just my speed. Superdad and Super Grandpa set up a target and brought out the baby gun (a .22 rifle) since my girly, delicate shoulder can't handle any sort of recoil. I was a little annoyed that the kids got to go first, but I tried to act like an adult and waited my turn.

Hank was beside himself at the opportunity to shoot a real gun. Superdad and I weren't entirely sure if Hank was ready to grasp the seriousness of the situation and act accordingly. Boy, were we wrong.

Superdad ran through a lengthy gun safety speech, complete with how-tos and what to never, ever do and I think Hank knows the rules better than I do now. Superdad decided he was mature enough to try it out.


I never realized exactly how much there is to know about a gun: how to clean it, how to load it, how to chamber a round, how to know when to shoot, when not to shoot, when to turn the safety off, etc. and was always a bit nervous around guns. I still am, to a degree since I can't do all of those things but I rely on Superdad to be there and provide instruction (I would never, ever shoot on my own; I don't know enough). I've come to believe that if you think your child might become a hunter (which Hank already says he wants to be) that it's important to start teaching them the basics early on so that by the time they're in the woods with a weapon on their own the rules of firing a gun safely are second nature.

Finally, it was my turn. I kicked butt with the .22; packing in five shots in a 2" radius, and then moved onto Super Grandpa's 9MM pistol. I didn't do quite so well with that, but it was still fun. Superdad wants to buy me a 9MM so we can join a gun club and target shoot together. Romantic, huh?


For those who blame the violence in the world on the mere existence of guns are who are loathing this gun post, fear not. Later in the day we took a lovely walk through old family haunts and gorgeous Northwoods scenery. But since we didn't shoot anything, I thought I'd save the walk for a post of its own (tomorrow, maybe?).