First time in the range

The night before had been a rough one at D bar A Boy Scout Camp. First, it appeared that my body chemistry prevented one of the critical elements of bug spray from working. Rather then repulsing them, as advertised, it seemed to draw them to me. In spite of the fact that the air was choking with the smell of Off, the mosquitoes swarmed around me. The bit my face and arms, they got I side of the sleeping back to get to my chest and legs. Every hour of the night I was more itchy and irritated than the night before.

This wasn't the only interruption to my sleep. At about two in the morning I heard a plastic rustle and I knew exactly what it was. Just before leaving for camp, mom took me to Mr. Bulky to by a snack for the ride and to eat while I was there. I am sure she imagine a trail mix, or dried fruit, but I settled on chocolate covered peanuts. I think they were double dipped. Anyway, as I had plunged my hand into that bag many times over the last 24 hours, I knew exactly what it sounded like. It was the sound that woke me from a fitful sleep. I prepared myself, finding the flashlight which was in the bag with me and trying not to make much of a sound. Then quick as I could I turned it on and pointed to where the chocolates had been and where I neared the sound. They were being dragged, by an unseen creature, underneath the side of the tent (canvas tents with no floor). With out thinking I hopped out of bed, the candy was on the run, and I followed. I ran down the trail of the woods, barefoot and in my pajamas, after a raccoon, until it was gone.

I tried to push these things from my head, though, because I needed to focus. I really wanted to be good at this. Today I had gotten I to the coveted rifle class. They would teach you some gun safety, and let you shoot targets with a .22. This was the big time for this camping trip. I could let an insect and raccoon plagued night ruin this.

Each space had a little blanket we would lay down on and each space has a small wood divider. The instructed could see each of us from a standing position behind us, but we were kind of isolated from each other. Not just by the barrier either. We were instructed to wear the safety glasses that each station had and before we started shooting, we put on orange plastic ear muffs. It is amazing how much you hear when all the outside sounds are blocked. Your heart. Your breathing.

We were going to fire five shots. I slide the ear protection into place, cut off the rest of the world for a moment and breathed in deeply. No scope, or crosshairs, or any of the things I imagined. Instead there was a small knob on the end of the barrel, which you tried to visually get to rest on the V near the back of the barrel. It sounds easy, but I found it hard to keep in one place. The knob would be in the right place a moment, then my had would twitch, or it just seemed to move on its own. I a margined being one with the gun, making the target bigger. I saw myself getting that magic bullseye. I pulled the trigger. Bam. I looked down range and I couldn't tell where I had hit the target. Perhaps I have so cleanly hit the bullseye, you couldn't make out the black of the paper from the place where there was no paper at all.

I had missed. I wasn't even sure how to adjust. Was I too high? Too low? The instructor, who had told me I had missed, told me to bring it down and it would help me to control my shots if I would hold my breath just before I fired.

Breath in. Hold. Aim. Fire.

It was exhilarating. I would see the next shot hit the paper. Outside of the rings for points, but close enough I could tell how to adjust.

By the time all my shots were fired, I had gotten a couple of them into the 1 point circle, but that was enough for me. I could do this. I liked doing this. I had to relinquish my spot so another boy could have his shot at it, but I got right back in line. This wasn't about a merit badge. This was about awesome.