Do you remember the first time you went shooting? - Page 2

Do you remember the first time you went shooting?

This is a discussion on Do you remember the first time you went shooting? within the General Firearm Discussion forums, part of the Related Topics category; I'm proud to say that I cannot remember my first time shooting. I started shooting not long after I could walk, or so they tell ...

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Thread: Do you remember the first time you went shooting?

  1. #16
    Array atctimmy's Avatar
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    Jan 2008
    I'm proud to say that I cannot remember my first time shooting. I started shooting not long after I could walk, or so they tell me. Atctimmy took to shooting like a duck takes to water.

    I do have one interesting memory of shooting when I was young. My brother and I were bird "hunting" in the woods behind our home. We saw a robin land on a branch 30yds away, or so. I raised my Crossman 10 pump bb gun to blast it and my older brother told me not to bother. "It's too far away" he said. Not liking his opinion I raised my BB gun and took the shot freehand and I killed that robin. I remember my brother being a little bit mad at me but also a little impressed.

    I learned later in life that my ability to shoot more accurately than others was due to my exceptional eyesight. As I'm getting older my eyesight is fading. Some days I even shoot like one of you mere mortals.....getting old stinks.

    ETA: My gift is with the rifle. Handguns I have to work at to be any good.

  2. #17
    VIP Member Array ccw9mm's Avatar
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    Jul 2006
    In scouts. We learned basic safety, shooting, accuracy. Very useful.

    First introduction to shotguns was with cousins, out on their farm while visiting for the summer. They thought showing me the family 10ga would be a hoot. I nailed the target, a huge used coffee can across the draw. The last thing I saw as it blasted me over backwards was both my feet sailing up in front of me as the can went spinning off beyond my sight. The first thing I heard once my ears stopped ringing was the howling laughter of my cousins. I guess you could say: I was hooked.
    Your best weapon is your brain. Don't leave home without it.
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  3. #18
    Ex Member Array barstoolguru's Avatar
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    Nov 2011
    under a rock in area 51
    yea I got "scope eye" and didn't have a good day

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  5. #19
    Distinguished Member Array miller_man's Avatar
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    Feb 2012
    Nashville, Tn
    I barely remember the first time shooting. I don't know how old, prob 7 - 8 yrs old. I was at my step grandfathers farm, him and my dad took me out with them. We went out somewhere in the yard, and they started shooting a shotgun at a target, I have no idea what gauge. I remember watching curiously for awhile then they asked if I wanted to try. I do remember being affraid and prob not exactly jumping at the chance. But my dad showed me what to do and pretty much held the gun for me. Like others, think all I did was pull the trigger. My dad is coming in town tommorrow, I'll have to get him to tell me the story.

    Wasn't really ever around guns again growing up that I remember. But my dad did get me a bb gun at about ten, I wore my arm out pumping that thing. Have so many memories shooting that bb gun though.
    The stupidity of some people NEVER ceases to amaze me.

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  6. #20
    Member Array Skidboot's Avatar
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    Mar 2012
    Thank you for reviving yet another painful childhood memory My father was a police detective who hated guns and knew almost nothing about them. Although he had to qualify annually, I'm almost certain he bribed the range officer to do it.

    Anyway, when my age was still a still a single digit number, one weekend he decided we should go to the police pistol range. I still have no idea why he thought this was a good idea. The range was outdoors and there was no one else there (guess cops didn't practice much then either); my father was an absolute nervous wreck. The gun was a snubnose .38 special, and my dad decided that while I was shooting, his hands would never leave the gun. Try that for awkward. It didn't go at all well, and with our four hands on the small handgun we must've looked like Laurel and Hardy try to learn how to shoot. At one point in our fumbling, we actually dropped the gun and it discharged. The session ended soon after that. Neither of us hit anything except the dirt backstop.

    As far as I can recall, we never spoke about that day, nor did I ever tell anyone else about it. Whew, glad that's over.

    Next up: my father and I attempt to go fishing.
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  7. #21
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    Array bmcgilvray's Avatar
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    May 2007
    My father helped me shoot his M1 Carbine out at our place on the lake in 1963 when I was six. He helped me hold it. First time I shot a rifle by myself was a year or two later at the same place. It was a Marlin bolt-action single shot .22. I managed to hit a one-gallon wide-mouthed pickle jar that had floated up with some trash at a time when the lake was at flood stage.
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  8. #22
    Senior Member Array BamaT's Avatar
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    Mar 2012
    Yep, I remember. I was about 10. One of my uncles was the police chief in the small town where I grew up. One day he came by our house, and asked if I would like to shoot his service revolver, and of course my answer was yes. We drove out to the town dump, where he set up a couple of glass gallon jars about 8 or 10 inches apart. He gave me some pointers about how to handle the Smith .38, then loaded it up, and told me to shoot one of the jars which were maybe 15 to 20'yards away. After blasting away and missing with every shot, he then told me to try shooting between them, and sure enough I then busted one of the jars!
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  9. #23
    Member Array deadhawg's Avatar
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    Nov 2006
    Yep. I was about 10, we went to visit my grandparents on their farm in North Carolina. Gramps and dad got out a .22 rifle and showed me how to shoot it. Set up some tin cans on a fence rail and we took turns knocking them off. I remember being very disapointed when we ran out of ammo, I was having a blast!. No idea whatever happened to the gun, sure wish I had it now.
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  10. #24
    Member Array tricolordad's Avatar
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    Jul 2012
    New Richmond, Wisconsin
    My 6th grade homeroom teacher took us to the police range in 1996 right at the end of the school year. He was also a sherrifs deputy and DNR game warden. We shot bb guns peft over from the old school shooting range, a .22 of his and his muzzleloader. Good times!

  11. #25
    Member Array Spovik's Avatar
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    Sep 2012
    My father let my brother and I use a single pump BB gun with a tube magazine for a while and we loved it. My first "real" firearm experience was with a Ruger Single Six in an old junk pit. I remember how much fun it was, how heavy it was, and how much louder the .22 magnum was compared to the .22 LR.

    Things have changed a bit since I've grown, but he has since given me the gun to shoot and it's still one of my favorite guns to shoot as well as look at.
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  12. #26
    Ex Member Array Skookum's Avatar
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    Aug 2012
    King Co., WA
    My dad was in to trapshooting when I was young. We were in Land O'Lakes, WI for a live pigeon shoot (I suspect these might not be held anymore, but Dad was a two-time state champ). There was an elderly (in my young eyes) businessman who was a friend of Dad's, a trapshooter, and had a pilot who flew him around in his personal Beechcraft 18 who was also a trapshooter.

    One afternoon the pilot took me into the woods to for a shooting lesson. We found a couple of discarded Coke cans, set them on a log, and he let me shoot at them, one at a time, with his 12-gauge. I can't remember the range, but I do remember perforating the heck out of each can. Interestingly (I think I was likely 7, as I received my first firearm -- an Ithaca single-shot lever action .22 LR -- when I was 8; I never did get a BB gun), I don't recall any recoil. I just remember being shocked and proud at hitting each can. In fact, I picked up each can to show off my ability to my family, and kept them both on my bookcase innmy bedroom for many years -- until my grandma, when I was in high school, decided to clean my room, which included tossing the two shot-ridden Coke cans (thanks, Grandma).

    On the way back to the clubhouse, the pilot spotted an escaped pigeon in a pine tree. He again let me shot his shotgun, and I was even more proud that the pigeon fell from the branch and hit the ground dead (I had no concept of how easy it was to hit a stationary target with a 12-gauge). I gave the shotgun back to the pilot and ran over to the dead pigeon and picked it up, with the idea of adding it to my Coke can trophies. The pilot tactfully took the pigeon from me and threw it into the woods, nicely telling me that my family probably wouldn't appreciate me bringing vermin back to them. At least I had two dead Coke cans to help substantiate my tale of adventure.

    Looking back, my experiences as a youth proved advantageous. Dad felt that I was better off with a single-shot .22, as it would make me a better shot and prevent me from burning through ammo like a demon. He was right. All of my friends eventually got semi-auto .22s, and I was usually able to out-shoot them all in terms of accuracy.

    Dad gave me a 12-gauge, a Beretta Silver Snipe over & under, when I was 12. When I took a hunter shotgun safety class, everyone else had 20-gauges. Incidentally, the class convened in the high school gymnasium on a Saturday afternoon -- yes, back in the day we took our shotguns on school grounds to learn how to use them safely, and no one thought it was strange. After the classroom part of the class and and the field handling exercises, we went to the local trap range where we each got to shoot a 25-round set of targets. My friends were all telling me that my 12-gauge would pound me into submission. Not surprisingly, I ended up with the highest score in the class -- 14/25, if I recall ('twas my first time, but I never did inherit or develop Dad's skill with a shotgun).

  13. #27
    Senior Member Array foxytwo's Avatar
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    Oct 2009
    My father started taking me to the indoor range at the age of 5. When all the men were through shooting he would put me down in the prone position and instruct me in the proper sight picture, trigger control, etc. After the third trip he started me firing the rifle. It was a stevens and he had the stock cut to fit me. I was always with my dad from the time I could walk when he was reloading or cleaning his guns. Safety was his priority and he talked to me about it constantly. I was 11 before I could go hunting with him. This all started in 1945 and I still enjoy shooting but I don't relaod anymore.

  14. #28
    VIP Member Array BigJon10125's Avatar
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    Apr 2011
    Absolutely! It is one of my favorite memories. While at my uncle's house in the mountains with my dad he invited us to go shooting. We were the only ones at the outdoor range. Uncle, me, brother and dad. My uncle has a colt .357 nickel revolver with mother of pearl handles and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. There was a blued .22 revolver, a .22 rifle and a .357 rifle, both lever action cowboy guns. My uncle let me wear his cowboy hat and cowboy holster and carry the unloaded gun at the range. I felt like I was 10 ft tall knowing the amount of trust and responsibility I was expected to show.

    I shot pretty well. It was nothing amazing. I instantly fell in love with guns and the sport of target shooting. Life got in the way and I forgot about guns for quite a while, then realized one day, hey, I am old enough to buy my own! Since then my collection continues to grow and I hope to add some of the guns I shot that day to the collection.

    Thanks for another opportunity to remember that day!

    "Better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt" ~ Mark Twain

  15. #29
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    Array armado's Avatar
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    Jan 2008
    New Mexico
    MY father was a policeman and taught me how to fire with his services revolver. It was a S&W Police special and I was about 5 years old in 1960. There was no hearing protection used back then.

  16. #30
    VIP Member Array grouse's Avatar
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    Jul 2011
    Yeah, I kinda remember, could'ent have been but 3 or 4 my grandfather helped my sister & I hold his single shot stevens .22 & we shot shorts (that's all he ever shot) at a very shiny can it was close to dark, seems we were in the bed of his '48 Chevy pic-up & just north of the pig pen.

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