I shot skeet recently with a young couple who were new to the club. Nice people. He’d shot before but she was just starting. She had good form and did well for a new shooter. I gave her the name of a local instructor and made a couple of minor suggestions.
After we were finished she mentioned that her gun, a 12 gauge Remington 1100, kicked more than she like and was quite heavy. I suggested she switch to one ounce loads and cut the stock down to reduce recoil but then added that I had a gun she might like to try and would bring it out for her to try.
The next time out I handed her my 28 gauge Remington 1100 and explained that it worked just the same as her 12 gauge. I pressed a box of shells into her hand and said I’d be in the club house and would come back to get the gun when she was finished.
I settled in on the club house balcony to watch as they went to the skeet field.
On station 1 she ink balled the first target. Low house same again. She dropped the second bird of the doubles but crushed the option bird. As she walked off the first station she had a grin from ear to ear. I was smiling too.
After they were done I wandered down to the field to retrieve my gun. “This gun is FANTASTIC,” she declared. “I hit 20 out of 25. That’s my best score yet.” We chatted a bit about the gun and the gauge. I explained that 28 gauge shells were a little pricier than 12 gauge but that reloading was an option if they were too costly. The young woman smiled and that it would be worth it.
Her husband was somewhat chagrined. But he was smiling when he said, “Thanks a lot. Now I think we need a new gun.”
She thanked my profusely and tried to pay me for the shells. I told her to forget it. My treat.
After we were finished she mentioned that her gun, a 12 gauge Remington 1100, kicked more than she like and was quite heavy. I suggested she switch to one ounce loads and cut the stock down to reduce recoil but then added that I had a gun she might like to try and would bring it out for her to try.
The next time out I handed her my 28 gauge Remington 1100 and explained that it worked just the same as her 12 gauge. I pressed a box of shells into her hand and said I’d be in the club house and would come back to get the gun when she was finished.
I settled in on the club house balcony to watch as they went to the skeet field.
On station 1 she ink balled the first target. Low house same again. She dropped the second bird of the doubles but crushed the option bird. As she walked off the first station she had a grin from ear to ear. I was smiling too.
After they were done I wandered down to the field to retrieve my gun. “This gun is FANTASTIC,” she declared. “I hit 20 out of 25. That’s my best score yet.” We chatted a bit about the gun and the gauge. I explained that 28 gauge shells were a little pricier than 12 gauge but that reloading was an option if they were too costly. The young woman smiled and that it would be worth it.
Her husband was somewhat chagrined. But he was smiling when he said, “Thanks a lot. Now I think we need a new gun.”
She thanked my profusely and tried to pay me for the shells. I told her to forget it. My treat.
