I was out at Genessee on a weekday in the winter, oh, about a year and a half ago. I was alone on the entire range, at the far right end of the 100 punching paper with a .223.
Guy came roaring into the yard in an old farm pickup, with what I supposed to be his teenage daughter in the passenger seat. Jumped out of the truck with a rifle and a big grin on his face and started slinging lead, making a real big boom.
Being somewhat curious by nature, I wandered over introduced my self and asked "what you got there?"
.416 Rigby, got it for Christmas, first time I've got to shoot it HERE TRY IT.
me - uhh, geeze, thanks mister, but I really don't think
NO YOU GOTTA TRY IT it's great HERE!
me - ooooooooohhhhkayyyy.
Now, all bundled up for winter I might look somewhat substantial if you don't see my pencil neck...I'm 6' tall but 170lbs of skinny legs and arms and a bit of a middle age spread. Also, though I'm in my 40's, at the time I'd only been shooting a year or so, rifles almost exclusively off the bench. So, standing, with slight aprehension but a good damned firm grip, I looked over the iron sights and pointed aproximately in the middle of the paper target I had set up - one of those big ones what are they, 24x30" or so?
BOOOOM but I didn't really hear it I was too busy trying to hang onto the rifle that I'd just punched myself in the nose with.
Did manage to hit paper and remember to thank the kind b*stard
