One Year

To be honest, I wasn’t really sure I was ready to adopt another dog after so recently suffering the heartache of losing my precious Spyder to bone cancer. But the unbearable loneliness of coming home to a dogless house every evening after work was doing nothing to ease my grief and sorrow, and the sad eyes and skinny body of the little black pup in the Super Dog Rescue adoptable dog photo listing were so heartbreaking that I reluctantly agreed to at least go meet him.

Even before heading to the foster home, I had pretty much already decided that I was just going to see the dog, as I had already made the rounds at the local shelter and, although they were all special in their own way, none of the dogs I had met thus far had had that special “something” – that intangible feeling I had gotten with both Spyder and Zoe that let me know we were meant to be family. And I just figured the right companion wasn’t in the cards for me yet.

On arriving at the foster home, I unenthusiastically knocked at the door. Imagine my utter surprise at being greeted by this adorable, wiggly little black body with the most soulful brown eyes that absolutely melted my heart right where I stood.

After introducing herself to us, the foster mom invited us to the living room where I sat on the couch and Fry (then known as Mike) hopped up into my lap, planted the softest puppy kiss on my cheek, then curled up with his chin resting gently on my thigh. I was immediately helplessly, hopelessly in love with this little miracle dog – he had been spared a gruesome death in a Georgia pound, rescued by Super Dog the day before he was scheduled for the gas chamber, after having suffered near starvation in a neglectful home situation. I mouthed to Steve “I want this dog”, but he acknowledged he had known that the instant we laid eyes on Fry.

That was Wednesday, November 3, 2010. Fry’s foster family and neighbors had asked for some time to say goodbye to him as they all had fallen for his charms as well, and we needed to make arrangements at our own home since we hadn’t really planned on adopting again just yet. So we scheduled to pick him up the following evening after work. I spent almost the entire night preparing his bed, food and water dishes, and generally making plans for his arrival, including taking off work the day after we were to bring him home in order to acclimate Fry to his new home and surroundings. And on Thursday, November 4, 2010, our lives changed forever once again, with the addition of a new puppy into the household.

From the moment Fry arrived at our home, he seemed completely content with us. And although the past year has been a rollercoaster ride, as it always is with a new dog, it’s a ride I wouldn’t trade for anything in the universe. As with our previous furbabies, we’ve experienced chewed up furniture, holes dug in the lawn, bedtime “zoomies”, snuggles on the couch watching TV, puppy kisses, learning to walk on a leash, dog hair on the floor and furniture, worrying with every little scrape or injury, and laughter with each new trick learned.

Each of our dogs has had – and will always have – a special place in my heart, and Fry is no exception. In just one short year, he has already taken me from couch potato to borderline athlete and brought me back to mountain biking, hiking, jogging and swimming. Fry’s loving and gentle nature transformed my two-year-old nephew from a child who cried and screamed at the mere sight of a dog to a child who now shares apples and hugs with Fry and adores petting him. Even our cats love Fry, and are never so content as when the three of them are curled up on the same couch together.

Fry is a quick learner and a marvelous athlete with unmatched speed and agility who loves his family more than anything and wants nothing more than to please us. He is clearly primarily an English Pointer mix and frequently points wildlife when we are out walking – and even climbs trees! His love of swimming belies possibly some Labrador Retriever too, but I think there may be some hound in there as well, based on his beautiful singing voice. LOL

This little man has quickly become my buddy and my joy. His happy and submissive nature is truly remarkable, and I honestly have never seen a dog as simultaneously bold and gentle as Fry is. He is completely confident on the gun range or in a storm, with no fear or flinching at any noise, and yet will take a treat from the hand of a child with the softness of a feather.

Naturally, I have dozens of videos and photos of Fry’s first year with us in my YouTube and Picasa galleries, and many more to be added as time goes by as well!

He is my angel, and I’m so thankful to Super Dog for saving his life, to his foster mom for sheltering him and to Fry himself for coming into my life at the time I needed him most. I only hope I can make the rest of his hopefully long and happy life as part of our family as complete as he makes mine.

Remembering Spyder

It was one year ago that I held my precious Spyder for the last time as he drew his final breaths, and today was filled with memories of his too-short life and how much he meant to me for those 11 years we shared. He was my best friend, my protector, my confidante and my sunshine. I remember how he would curl up on the bathrug like my little guardian angel while I showered, and the cute way he smiled when he was happy, which was all the time as he truly knew the meaning of stopping to smell the flowers.

His whole body wagged with joy when I got home from work, and he had an amazing talent for making me laugh no matter how rough my day had been by playing peek-a-boo with his front paws over his own eyes. I still smile when I think of him lounging on the bed with his hind legs stretched out behind him frog-style, back pawpads to the sky, and that silly mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

Every day I miss you, sweetheart. I will always love you dearly and your pawprints are forever etched upon my heart and soul.

As The Arrow Flies

A couple of weeks ago, I decided on a whim to take an archery lesson. I have to admit I was surprised at how relaxing, almost meditative, this sport is. It’s quiet and requires no hearing protection, allows me to set my own pace, and the only limit to how long I can shoot is my own fatigue since the arrows merely have to be retrieved and reused, thus there is no issue of running out of “ammunition”. Steve and I searched a variety of archery shops online and had the great fortune to land upon Twig Archery’s site where the owner, John, kindly offered his expertise to help me select an appropriate bow – a Samick Sage takedown recurve – and then also talked at length with me about arrows and what would work best for me, and made me a dozen absolutely beautiful Eastons. The bow and arrows each arrived merely a couple of days after the order went in, so I was set up and ready to shoot even more quickly than I could have hoped. So Steve and I headed up to Caswell Ranch today for what was scheduled to be an Archery Fun Tournament. However, as only four of us braved the cold windy day, it wound up being more of a practice match than anything, but that actually worked out great for me as I am a brand new shooter and this meant I didn’t yet have to deal with the stress of a big competition right away. Plus, with the strong wind gusts we had this afternoon, it was nice to be able to work on figuring out windage at various distances without a lot of pressure. Overall, I am absolutely thrilled with my bow and arrows from Twig. The fit, weight and handling are perfect for me so that I can shoot quite a few arrows without fatiguing, and I find that my accuracy is improving each time.

While at Caswell, Dean was kind enough to also let us try out his longbows, a 50# Bear and a 35# English longbow, and I thoroughly enjoyed both of those even though the poundage was well over my range.

But my favorite bow by far is my Sage; it already is starting to feel like “home” to me and I don’t think it’s going to be long before we’re working as a single unit. Right now I’m still working on locating my perfect anchor point, although by the end of today’s practice, I was starting to feel like I might have found it or am at least getting very close, and now just need to focus on consistently drawing to that point. Thanks so much to Romeo and Dean for encouraging me to give archery a try, to Steve for being such a wonderful and supportive husband joining me in this new endeavor, and to Twig Archery for their expertise and unsurpassed customer service in helping me select the perfect bow and arrows to get me going comfortably and happily.

Fry Visits the Mountains

Before we adopted Fry last November, his foster mom had informed us that he had always had anxiety issues resulting in fairly severe motion sickness associated with riding in a car. So we’ve invested a lot of effort into easing him into traveling by going on very short car rides – less than his nausea threshold of about an hour – to fun destinations several times a week for the past eight months.  He’s done well with this, so we decided to take a leap and try him on a long trip this past weekend. We knew going in it was asking a lot of the little guy, but we took him to visit Steve’s parents in the mountains.

On the way out on Saturday morning Fry was, as usual, very anxious in the car, panting heavily despite having the air-conditioning running on high, and unwilling to do anything but stand nervously right behind me. We do lay the back seats down to give him a comfortably wide, flat, secure place to stand, and we place blankets and towels down for him as well. He made it a little over an hour before unloading all the previous night’s dinner due to the nausea probably brought on by his anxiety and panting.

After stopping to gas up the car, let Fry stretch his legs, relieve himself and have some water, we spread his huge snuggly Kong bed out in the car and covered it with a soft towel to see if we could convince him to lie down on that. To our surprise, within a few minutes of getting back in the car, Fry did in fact lie down on his bed. He was still fairly anxious, but I think he was so tired from an hour of frantic nerves that he gave in and decided to rest a bit.

Fry in the Car

After each of the next two successive rest stops, Fry seemed increasingly comfortable riding in the car, particularly at the steady highway pace. And, even more surprising, he was absolutely wonderful during the stops, behaving beautifully on his leash with no pulling whatsoever, going tinkle and drinking water from his doggy sippy cup, and then very happily hopping right back into the car with no coaxing at all and immediately curling up on his bed and resting.

Once we arrived at “Grandma” and “Grandpa’s” house, Fry settled in fairly quickly, after his initial barking since he hadn’t seen them in a few months. He was amazingly well-behaved, always staying close by and listening very well while in the yard. In the house, he made himself at home on the couch, and was quite happy with all the petting and attention. As Fry was exhausted from the trip, we just hung out at the house for a relaxing visit Saturday evening, and that night he slept in the spare bedroom with Steve and me, with just minimal restlessness due to being in a strange place.

By Sunday morning, he seemed to be more at ease, although was a bit nervous about getting into the car again to head out for a hike on the Parkway before the trip back home. He did hop in though, but was nervously panting again the entire half-hour drive to our picnic location. Once again, Fry showed excellent manners during the picnic and seemed content to lie in the grass at the overlook while we had a quick lunch.

Fry at the Overlook

We then headed to a very little-traveled trail about a mile down the Parkway and took Fry in for a hike. The weather was warm but overcast with the threat of an approaching storm which brought in a nice breeze, and Fry had a great time sniffing and investigating the trail. We also discovered he’s quite talented at finding and eating blackberries right off the branches!

Fry Picking Blackberries

He was so sweet during the walk, never getting more than a few feet in front, and generally preferring to walk either right beside or right behind me. When we got to an open grassy area of the trail filled with flowers and tall grasses, Fry had a blast running around, hiding in the grass, and then leaping out to run back to us again.

Wheee!

He was very good about drinking from his sippy cup, and when the hike was finished, was happy to hop back into the car and immediately lie down on his bed.

In fact, he was lying down for most of the ride home, really only getting up when we exited off the highway for rest stops. He was once again very good at each stop, taking care of his personal business and drinking a little water, then happily hopping back into the car. Despite beginning to breathe a little heavily and nervously as the trip progressed, he managed to make it all the way home without throwing up or getting too anxious, even though we passed through two heavy thunderstorms during the ride. But he certainly was happy when we finally arrived home. As soon as we opened the front door, he immediately ran inside, greeted “his” kitty-cats, and then hopped up on his ottoman, gave me a big lab smile, stretched out those hound-dog feet and flopped over for a real nap. I’m so proud of our little man. I know this trip was difficult for him, but he handled it like a champ and never got grumpy or irritable even though I know he was exhausted and stressed. He’s just the best little pup and I don’t think I could love him more.

Me and My Boy

Open Water

At the ending of the movie Open Water, as  lost diver “Susan” looks out over the vast expanse of ocean for any glimmer of rescue after nearly two days adrift, she realizes there is no sign of help on the horizon in any direction. It is at this moment she becomes aware also that sharks are circling her, and allows herself to slip under the water to drown before they attack her. This is how depression feels. The horrific realization that no one is coming for you – there is no rescue boat, no island to swim toward, no plane searching  for you, nothing except that vast expanse of seeming emptiness with silent terrors circling below the surface. It’s hopelessness, helplessness, fear, loneliness, sadness and emptiness all engulfing you without rhyme or reason. Worse, it’s overwhelming guilt for feeling those things and being so consumed by them that you’re unable to see past the darkness to what is hopeful, resilient, joyful, beautiful and wonderful, and the belief that somehow you don’t deserve any good thing anyway. “Snapping out of it” and “being happy for what you have” are not, as many assume, necessarily options for one caught in the claws of depression. It’s an illness that is the deep blue sea of the psyche and is just as capable of drowning the spirit as the ocean is of drowning the body. How overwhelmingly frightening to look around and see no rescue boat, only dark and angry Open Water as far as the soul can see…

The Carolina Cup

The Carolina Cup. Since I began shooting IDPA, winning an award at The Cup, one of – if not THE – best match in the country, has been my Holy Grail. Frank and Paula Glover have a reputation for getting the best Safety Officers and staff, and for putting on one of the most topnotch IDPA matches in the country, and this year’s Cup was no exception. You’d be hard-pressed to find more talented, friendly and skilled SOs and match staff, or a better run match anywhere. The Carolina Cup is a match not to be missed, and having a trophy bearing its name is definitely a dream of mine. Last year, I fell miserably short of that goal within the first couple of stages. So over the ensuing year, I practiced, trained, shot many matches and worked as diligently as I could to try and be better prepared this time around.

I knew going in that as a revolver shooter the only chance of any recognition would require a first place finish. There are simply not that many of us, particularly at the lower Marksman level where there are usually only one or two entries at all. As luck would have it, this year there were two of us in SSR Marksman – myself along with my friend and fellow competitor, Jody. We both compete regularly at monthly club matches where we routinely flip-flop winning, and usually have fairly close scores, so this year’s Cup promised to be challenging and exciting.

As Jody was SOing this match, he had already completed all the stages earlier in the week. Knowing the score I needed to beat was a mixed blessing – on the one hand, it gave me a goal to meet. On the other hand, as Jody had shot an incredibly good match, this knowledge also gave me a goal to worry about! My match began Friday morning and despite a slow start on two stages with a variety of moving targets, I felt reasonably strong and comfortable with my shooting even with some stupid mistakes and far too many points down. However, I had no fails, no non-threats and no procedurals so was happy to have completed at least half the match with no penalty seconds added to my plenty-slow-enough times! I actually surprised myself by completing the first half of the match in the lead, even if only by just a handful of seconds.

I was scheduled to finish out the match on Saturday afternoon which turned out to be a hellishly hot and humid scorcher of a day, leaving me immediately drenched with sweat and feeling like a wrung-out dish towel before I even got started. Despite this, I wasn’t too concerned, as I assumed I had already completed the more difficult stages of the match on Friday. Rookie mistake alert – turns out the stage that ate my lunch was what should have been one of the easiest ones on Saturday – the STANDARDS. Not only did I drop a ridiculous amount of points there, I also dropped one of my rounds when it caught the edge of the cylinder on the reload, something I haven’t done in over a year – d’oh!

The 16 stages effectively broke down for me like this:

I started the match Friday morning on Stage Six – That’s My Laundry!! This was a mind-blower of a stage for me to start on, with three moving targets activated as soon as I stepped off the start box. I had to engage a turner, flash and double-turner with two rounds each. After this, I had to seek cover behind a full clothesline and engage three additional targets with two rounds each.

Stage 6

With my heart still racing after those movers, it was on to Stage Five – Ms. Kitty’s Saloon. Here I started seated at a table with a cup in one hand and a deck of cards in the other. This stage was shot seated throughout. On the buzzer, I had to turn around and activate a steel popper with three rounds, then engage a sideways flash with three. After reloading, I had two crazy vertical swingers surrounding a non-threat with three each. One more reload, and time to engage the last target peeping through the doorway behind a no-shoot. Note to self after these two fast-moving stages: Focus on smoothing out that trigger pull!!!

Stage 5

Stage Seven was Carjack. Starting seated in the driver’s seat, at the buzzer, I had to engage a target out the passenger window with three shots, then swing around and put three shots on the target out the driver’s window. After reloading, there were two additional targets out the passenger window requiring three shots each.

Stage 7

Stage Eight – Gas Station - was a fairly complex stage requiring a bit of thought. The first two targets were engaged inside the “store” in tactical sequence while retreating to cover behind the ice storage box. At this point there was a slightly far target to be handled. After reloading, I had to edge around the ice storage to engage three additional targets from behind cover, reload once more, and retreat to cover behind the gas pump to engage the final far target hiding between a car and stack of barrels.

Stage 8

Then it was on to Stage Nine – Going Postal. The first three targets were engaged while retreating out of the “Post Office” to seek cover behind a mailbox. From low cover, two targets were engaged to the right and the last one on the left. I’m not sure, but I think there might have been a live camera belonging to Panteao Productions on the ground behind me while I shot this stage – too bad this wasn’t one of my better reloads!

Stage 9

I started Stage Ten – Picnic in the Park - seated at a picnic table with a no-shoot directly in front of me with two targets situated behind it. After engaging these two each with two to the torso and one to the head, I had to reload and then run to cover behind a barrel and wall to engage the remaining two targets hiding behind a barrel also with two to the torso and one to the head each.

Stage 10

At this point, I headed across the road to the wooded bays where I was faced with Stage Eleven – Tent Hell. The start was seated on a stump, holding a fire log in both hands. At the buzzer, I had to stand, draw and drop the log into the fire pit where it activated a turner and a flash target behind a car, after which I had to address a target hiding behind a pine tree. After reloading, I engaged one more target in the trees, then ran to low cover behind the car and put two more shots each on the remaining two targets around the car and through the car window. I earned a nasty down-10 on the flash target, but the pain of that was softened by having the Safety Officer tell me “You shot it too fast!” Now, that is something I’ve never heard before and probably never will again! Me? Shooting something TOO FAST?!?!? LOL.

Stage 11a

Stage 11b

Stage Twelve was David’s Wall. Fortunately, after the frenzy of the previous stage, this one was fairly straightforward. A six-target array while moving to various wall openings with the final target around a sharp corner. And that completed day one of The Cup for me.

Stage 12

Video of Day One

(Videos are in stage number order, not order shot)

Saturday afternoon, I began the second half of my match on Stage Thirteen – Ron’s Picnic. This was a deceptively difficult stage for me, starting at low-ready with two shots on the first target, then two each on the next two targets while advancing toward low cover behind a car. At this point, the remaining three targets were engaged also with two rounds each.

For Stage Fourteen – Sunbathing – we were informed in the stage brief that “clothing is optional” but that pool water was looking pretty icky after sitting out for nearly week in the boiling sun, so I opted to remain dressed for this one! I started seated in a lawn chair which luckily just happened to be the exact same chair I have on my patio, with gun and all reloads on the table beside me. At the buzzer, I engaged the first two targets with a 1-3-2 tactical sequence, then reloaded and engaged the last two distant targets on either side with three rounds each. This was a fun little stage, and it was nice to be able to shoot it from under the cool shade of an umbrella too.

Stage 14

Another fun stage was Stage Fifteen – Hiking the Trail. This stage was also in the wooded bays and required carrying a backpack which was slightly awkward but not really heavy. On the buzzer, I drew and began walking, engaging the first three targets along the trail while on the move, reloaded, and engaged the remaining three targets.

Stage 15

Stage Sixteen was Cup Standards and should have been easy-peasy, but ended up eating my lunch. It was a two-string stage and for the first string, all I had to do was put two rounds in each target, reload and put two rounds in each head. Not only did I miss one of the head shots, I also dropped one of my rounds on the ground during my reload as noted above. After wasting time with that and getting my mojo apparently all out of whack, for my second string, my strong hand and weak hand shots were just all over the place.

Stage 16

Then it was back across the road again for Stage One – Special Delivery. Seated in the passenger seat, at the buzzer I had to turn and engage one target outside the passenger door and two more out the back of the truck while seated. Reload and engage another target out the back, then slide off the seat to put two rounds in a low target out back, cross behind the driver’s seat and engage the target out the back on that side using the package boxes in the truck as cover. One more reload, and engage the final target out back from the same position.

Stage 1

The runner was set up as a charging target for Stage Two – Bodyguard III. The buzzer activated the runner which charged toward me, crossing a steel plate and a no-shoot, so I had to carefully gauge my shots to engage the target while avoiding any penalties, then engage the second target, reload and engage the remaining two targets, all with three rounds each.

Stage 2

For Stage Three – When It Hits the Fan - I started seated in the driver’s seat of the van, with my gun in the IDPA box on the passenger side floor. On the buzzer, I had to kneel beside the seat, retrieve my gun and fire two shots on the steel popper out the back door. This activated a double-turner outside the passenger door as well as opening the back door of a van behind the one I was in. I immediately had to engage the turner, then put two shots in the first target in the second van, reload and engage the remaining three targets at the second van.

Stage 3

My last stage of the match was Stage Four – Dangerous Harbor. Starting standing next to and facing the rear side of a boat – a REAL one, I might add – on the buzzer, I had to turn, draw and engage two initial targets, then run to low cover behind a picnic table, on the way pushing down a steel popper that activated a flash target and a swinger behind a far boat – Idaho – at the end of the dock. Once at low cover, there were two targets behind another slightly closer boat – Uranus – anchored at the dock, then one stationary and the swinger behind the more distant Idaho.

Stage 4

Video of Day Two

(Videos are in stage number order, not order shot)

As Jody had completed the entire match earlier in the week, I had already seen his score and therefore knew what I needed to do in order to win. Unfortunately, this knowledge turned out to be more of a hindrance than a help, I believe. Upon seeing what an excellent match he had had, I was keenly aware I needed to be on my absolute best performance to have any chance of coming out in front and I think that sort of got into my head even with my minuscule lead after Friday morning. Dropping too many points on my first stage Saturday afternoon tweaked my nerves a bit, but totally screwing up the standards really got me off-kilter and I was never able to regroup after that, falling more and more behind until the end of the day Saturday when I wound up losing sufficient ground to earn a solid butt-kicking and dropping out of first place by almost 22 seconds.

While I was very happy that I had improved my performance over last year significantly with a much improved score, zero penalties and far fewer points down, this year’s placing of second out of only two SSR Marksmen and 21st out of 23 total revolver shooters was a crushing blow to me. I managed to put on my very best Happy Face and made sure to look at the many bright sides of the weekend – I did have a tremendous amount of fun at an absolutely awesome event, saw many old friends and made a lot of wonderful new ones, and got to shoot some of the most challenging and exciting IDPA stages around. But the deeply disappointed tears quietly falling on my pillow late Saturday night told their own story…

The Difference a Year Makes

Last year I wrote of my experience shooting at my first ever major sanctioned IDPA match, the North Carolina State Championship at Caswell Ranch. During the intervening 12 months, my IDPA experience has evolved and morphed in a direction I never expected as I headed into the 2011 NC State match, held once again at Caswell.

To give a little background, let’s first look back a year ago. Dissatisfied and frustrated with my results last year, right after that match I sought the advice of  Dean Brevit, who had a suggestion that caught me totally off-guard. “I think you should try revolver.” What?? Use an old-fashioned cowboy gun for competition? I could barely manage racking a slide and working a magazine release button, and Dean wanted me to learn the complexities of using a speedloader, and in a gun which only lets you know it’s empty by clicking when you expect a bang.

But, me being the stubborn old fool that I am, and certainly not one to fear embarrassment in public – heck, for years I raced a leopard print mountain bike wearing matching leopard print attire… – I naively said “Sure!”, and proceeded to purchase a Smith & Wesson 686 which I promptly brought to Dean for tuning and customizing.

The very first day the gun was ready, I went to Dean for a lesson with it and after that first frustrating hour, he set up some targets and ran me through a Classifier. I won’t go into detail, but let’s just say if there was a division below Novice, I would have been in it. I worked hard to learn the intricacies of revolver skills and practiced every single day for weeks on end, taking lessons intermittently. Then four months later I reclassified. This time I made Marksman, barely missing Sharpshooter by a handful of seconds.

As the months passed, I slowly transitioned from “I HATE this gun” to “I LOVE this gun”, and it wasn’t long before the reload procedure was as natural to me as breathing. The wheelgun began to just feel “right” and after a year of shooting local club matches with it, I felt ready for this year’s NC State match.

Being familiar with Dean’s stage design, I fully expected the match to be challenging and fun, and I was not disappointed. I squadded with three great guys who regularly shoot with us and we set out on the course after the safety briefing.

As it was a shotgun start, we elected to begin on Stage Three – Shooting four targets around a picnic table with three rounds each while advancing. Simple enough, right? Well, I started out okay, but somehow managed to completely miss T2!?! That was good enough for down-15 and a Fail. Yikes.

Stage 3

Trying to be an optimist – completely out of character for me – I chalked that up to shooting so early in the morning, and proceeded to Stage Four, the shoot house. I had shot in the shoot house in previous weeks, but for this match, it was beyond dark in there. In fact, a fellow shooter described the moment the SO closed the door as feeling like “the gates of hell slamming shut behind you!” and Dean had painted some disorienting red and black pattern on the door right in front of your face at the start position, which really gave an eerie feel to the house. This stage had five targets requiring two to the body and one to the head. Despite having never shot a revolver with a flashlight before, I felt like I did okay – until I heard my time called out at 53 and change! At least I had no fails or no-shoots, and even managed to hit the target covered with a black tee-shirt.

Stage Five was a stage I was actually quite comfortable with, where three targets were engaged with two shots each from a supine position on a swinging patio couch. Not screaming fast, but I was okay with my down-3 total.

Stage 5

Stage Six involved the dreaded shooting-from-the-truck scenario with a twist. We had to turn around, retrieve our gun from the dummy-driver’s lap and shoot through the back window which was covered with lattice-work, while a no-shoot swinger waved back and forth across the sight line. My time was okay, but those points down pretty much ate my lunch.

Stage 6

I skipped ahead to Stage Eight for the standards and except for placing a beautiful figure-eight double high on the upside-down 30-yard target in the down-3 zone, had an acceptable run.

Stage 8

By this time, my calculations showed my points down were horrendous and pushing my score to scary-to-calculate levels, so I was rather nervous as I approached Stage Seven, the house-clearing stage. Fortunately, several of my shooting buddies, some of whom regularly work as SOs at the club matches, were at this stage when I arrived and gave me a much-needed pep talk. I managed to slow my shooting down just a bit here, as I worked my way down the various hallways and shot this stage clean, despite having some very tight shooting angles through windows and doorways.

Stage 7

It wasn’t quite lunch time at this point, so our little group decided to head over to the “back side” of the range to shoot Stage Nine. This was a simple three-target triangular array at an ATM, which I managed to clean as well.

Stage 9

Stage Ten was set up as a restaurant scenario – complete with dinnerware nailed to the table! – shot seated, with three targets in tactical sequence and then three farther targets in any order. Getting in a bit too much of a hurry cost me a couple of points, but I felt okay with that stage overall.

Stage 10

Down in the field next to the pond, the golf cart was parked and ready for Stage Twelve. For this one, the gun and reloads would be placed in separate pockets in the golf bag in the back of the cart, and on the signal, I had to get out of the cart, retrieve my gun and handle six fairly distant targets while using the golf cart for cover. I probably shot this one a little faster than my abilities as well, since my points down were a bit more than they should have been, although not terrible.

Stage 12

Since we still had time before lunch, we decided to go ahead and shoot Stage Eleven, the one most folks dreaded but with my vision being so weird anyway, didn’t really bother me. For this one, we had to wear safety glasses with the dominant eye side blacked out. Three targets were shot through a “tunnel”, and the remaining four were shot around a couple of walls, using the walls as cover. This was actually probably my best stage so far, both in time and points down, surprisingly enough.

After lunch, we finished up with the last two remaining stages of the match. Stage One was a gas station scenario that required shooting while retreating, while squatting and from behind cover. I was fairly happy with my hits with the exception of the one makeup shot I took during the entire match, which unfortunately resulted in making up a down-5 with another down-5!

Stage 1

I did manage to finish out the match on a good note with Stage Two. This stage had a 1-3-2 tactical sequence on two targets which would have been fairly simple except revolver shooters like me had to then reload and put a head shot in each target, first addressing the target opposite the one just engaged. Surprisingly enough, I actually made a plan and stuck with it, shooting this stage clean and in the proper order.

Stage 2

When the results were posted, I finished a disappointing second out of two SSR Marksmen, losing by 45 seconds. Despite this, though, I feel the match was a tremendous success for me. Do you want to know why? Because I pushed myself. I stepped outside my comfort zone and shot faster than I felt like I could. Granted, my version of shooting “fast” is still painfully slow for most people, but I’m the epitome of cautious. I don’t take chances. I don’t face challenges courageously. So for me, even though my points down were bad – really bad – and my final score reflected that, I know I challenged myself to do what I didn’t think I could. I pulled the trigger as soon as the target crossed my sights. And I did it every time, on every stage and every target. Many times it didn’t work and there were plenty of down-3s and down-5s to prove it, but sometimes it did and I got a down-0. I didn’t hit any no-shoots and only had two Fails. And I did it all in what a lot of folks consider one of the more difficult divisions.

Many thanks to Dean and Beverly Brevit and all the amazing Safety Officers, volunteers and staff for all their tireless work putting on yet another outstanding match. Also thanks to all my shooting friends for pushing me to try harder, for encouraging me, for making me laugh when I wanted to cry, and most of all, for believing in and inspiring me.

Every Day is FRYday

Frylie has now been with us for a little over five months and the bonding process has definitely taken hold, especially for me. I took him for a private lesson with his pet-sitter/trainer, Christie at Teamworks Dog Training, and he has shown a dramatic response. Fry now sits quietly for petting when meeting new people, and is doing incredibly well with his focusing exercises such that I can get his attention immediately with a simple verbal command. His sweet nature, cute face and docile personality make him absolutely irresistible.

I’m also seeing some additional very impressive maturity for such a young dog at only 12 months old. Despite being what we suspect is some type of pointer/hound mix, he has demonstrated a remarkable ability to control his prey drive. Two young rabbits and two squirrels were playing in our front yard this weekend while we had Fry on the porch with us. The youngsters ran right in front of him, probably not more than a few feet away, and although he was quite interested, Fry immediately responded by sitting quietly when asked and made no effort to chase the rabbits or the squirrels. On the trail this past week,  he once again demonstrated his “chase” control by calling off a full herd of deer running right across the trail in front of him.

But one of his most amazing talents has to be his incredible agility and confidence. Out on our daily trail hike, he time and again wows us with his ability to run at full speed and turn on a dime, jump nimbly from limb to limb on a fallen tree, zip across narrow bridges, swim out in the lake to retrieve sticks, and maneuver deftly around our mountain bikes. As impressive as all that is, however, last week he truly left me speechless. When a squirrel raced up a tree to taunt him, Fry decided to just climb about five feet up the tree and give the squirrel a quick scare before hopping effortlessly back down and splashing through the creek and then falling in behind the bikes to head back home.

With this precious little boy, every day really is FRYday.

The Instructor Matters

In the world of competitive sports, the decision to hire an instructor (or coach, as the case may be) is an intensely personal one, particularly if you are, like myself, not especially athletically inclined or naturally gifted. In the case of those of us with average or less abilities, proper instructor choice is critical not only to achieve maximum realization of any potential we have but also to ensure the best hope of building and maintaining the confidence to stay with it.

When I first dipped my toe into the world of competitive shooting, I initially thought I’d try just “winging it” myself with only the most basic introduction to firearms class. After all, how hard could it be? Just aim and fire, right? WRONG! As I quickly discovered after merely a couple of matches, shooting accurately and with decent speed, especially while moving and/or with moving targets is much more intricate than television would leave us to believe. Vastly more complex than simply pulling the trigger, there is a great deal of precision, muscle and breath control involved as well as correct grip, stance and visual perception in order to put the rounds exactly where desired.

I initially started out with a semiautomatic pistol since it seemed that is what most competitors were using, especially the very few women in the sport. For almost a year, I attended matches nearly every week, placing at or disappointingly near the bottom of the scores every single time. I tried my best to improve, but remained unsuccessful. As I neared my frustration threshold and was just about to give up competitive shooting all together, a dear friend and fellow competitor urged me to give an instructor friend of his a try at teaching me before I gave up completely. Daren suggested I contact Dean Brevit for at least one lesson before quitting the shooting sports, to see if he might be able to put me on the path to success.

Since Daren had always been very encouraging to me, I took his advice and emailed Dean to set up a lesson following a match at his range. Although Dean seemed intimidating at first – he has an overwhelmingly impressive resume of real-world and competitive shooting and training experience – his manner was very calm, relaxed and matter-of-fact, and it didn’t take me long to settle down, figure out his dry British sense of humor, and focus on what he was telling me to do. Within that first hour, he corrected my grip on the gun, showed me a better way to reload with my small hands when the magazine ran dry, and gave me some options for transitioning from target to target in spite of my genetic visual challenges.

Over the ensuing months, I continued to take sporadic lessons from Dean, but was still having problems with the semiautomatic pistol, and just couldn’t seem to put the rounds where I wanted. I’ll be the first to admit that I am a very difficult student, with a tendency to be a perfectionist and a pessimist, and to get discouraged extremely easily. This also causes me to sometimes put unrealistic expectations on an instructor, although I have been fortunate in the past to have found truly remarkable teachers – Charlie Storm who successfully coached me for 24-hour endurance mountain bike racing, Shaums March who gave me the courage to race mountain bike downhill events and inspired me to reach for the stars, Moses Akor who worked wonders with my tennis game, and my beautiful and talented aunt Paula “Gypsy” Stump who shared with me her extensive knowledge of the art of Oriental Dance. Apparently now I had gotten lucky once again by being referred to Dean Brevit for shooting instruction, and it was at this point I realized just how important having an adaptable instructor truly is.

It was one year ago that Dean and I had a long discussion about the issues I was having with the semiautomatic – especially my difficulty with establishing good solid trigger control and the resulting tendency to “run on” and jerk the trigger which pulled the gun off target. Dean’s suggestion caught me completely by surprise. Rather than simply “using a bigger hammer”, he recommended a complete changeover by switching from a semiautomatic to a revolver. I honestly had never considered a revolver – an old-fashioned cowboy gun for competition??? But Dean was quite serious and said if I would be willing to commit to a year of trying revolver, he guaranteed he could correct the majority of the problems I was having with my current pistols.

I trusted him, and on his suggestion, purchased a Smith & Wesson 686, bringing it directly to him for some customizing work. That is when I learned how valuable having an instructor who is also a top-notch gunsmith can be. The gun I picked up out of the original box is a world apart from the gun Dean returned to me after his customization. He adjusted and fitted the grip completely to my hand size and finger strength, smoothed out the trigger beautifully, and even set it up with a large red dot fiber front sight with a solid black rear blade specifically chosen so that I could easily put the gun sights on target without needing the corrective lenses I had previously been using for shooting.

The next few months were a blur of working harder than ever to figure out this “new-old-fashioned” gun and the initially complicated method of ejecting spent rounds and reloading. I practiced daily and continued to take periodic lessons from Dean. Sometimes improvement came rapidly and other times I felt like a discouraged newbie all over again, but I persisted as per my promise. Within barely four months, my IDPA classification score had improved by nearly 50 seconds, moving me from Novice to Marksman (in fact, scarily close to Sharpshooter!…). Dean heard “I hate you and I hate this gun” dozens of times, as he had predicted, but now that the year has passed, I have to admit he was right in that learning the revolver has corrected many of my previous trigger control issues, but more than that, revolvers have become my gun of choice for all types of competitive handgun shooting – IDPA, Rimfire, and now the new Pocket Carry Competitions as well.

Thanks to Dean’s awareness of the challenges I was facing and the willingness on both our parts to be adaptable, I’ve found my niche. Every match I still face an uphill battle and am as yet still just a Marksman, but I’m enjoying the shooting sports more than ever now and feel comfortable and confident enough to keep working hard at learning and improving every time. The wheelgun feels completely natural to me, and the once-complicated reload process is second-nature thanks to Dean’s clear and concise instruction. Plus, I’ll be honest, there’s something kind of cool about being one of the very few women out there competing with a revolver…

Happy Fourth Birthday!

Happy Fourth Birthday Venus, our little angel!

Venus