Week 51 - learning clay pigeon shooting

Last week I discovered that I'm not great at doing rather intricate work with delicate, little tools.  This week I realised that I'm very good at shooting simple objects with a rather large, cumbersome tool.  I don't know what that means but go figure. Just to clarify, I'm talking about clay pigeon shooting.  I'm not sure what I thought about shooting before now.  Most probably I had very stereotypical images in my head of posh young men in flat caps and Barbour hunting jackets, or possibly groups of bankers and hedge fund managers on stags. Terribly clichéd I know. 

Nevertheless, I came across it in my "things to do" research and realised that I would actually like to do it.  My only other experience of shooting a real gun was in the Israeli army when I was sixteen and I learnt to shoot an M16.  I don't really remember my experience of that to be honest but thank God - even though it was a training exercise the idea behind it is fairly alarming.  Learning to shoot a rifle with the sole purpose of damaging a piece of baked clay is much more in line with my beliefs.  (Ignoring the fact that a similar gun with the same shells can and does still kill wildlife). At least here there is a sign.

English Shooting has been the home of the English School of Shooting in North London for the last 35 years and sits on original Royal hunting grounds that were used for hunting for monarchy such as Elizabeth I, Henry VIII and Edward VI.  As I drove down the gravelled path towards the grounds, I started to hear the recurring sound of a very loud, shotgun bang.  Even as I got familiar with it I still flinched a couple of times, walking down towards the clubhouse.   I met with Gary James Halls, the owner of the place who welcomed me in with coffee, biscuits and chat.  I could tell straight away that he's warm with a dry sense of humour but professional and a great brand ambassador for the sport.  

One of the instructors, Craig came to get me and we started my round of 25 shells straight away.  With some protective earphones on, Craig loaded up my shotgun with two shells and showed me how to hold the gun. 

I'm right-handed so the butt had to sit neatly on my right shoulder to help with the kick-back and then I had to have my right cheek resting on the side of the gun, left eye closed and following the clay as it was shot out.

We started off in some woodland area, where the clay is shot out totally straight, so theoretically it is the easiest to shoot.  Essentially you have to shoot the clay when it gets to the highest point.  We did eight clays here and I got seven out of eight.  Boom.  Loved it.  It felt really good hitting the target and seeing the clay explode in the air.  I felt a worryingly captivating feeling of power when I was shooting the clays.  Maybe its just that addictive excitement?!

Then we moved onto another section where the clays are shot out at an angle.  I found these a lot harder to shoot, but I still clipped a couple of them.  The trick is to keep the gun moving as you're shooting rather than holding it still, which is what I was doing at the beginning.   Finally, we moved onto the final section where two clays are shot out at the same time.  Nailed it!  I surprised myself really, I thought it would be really tricky but I managed it with ease.  

To my dismay, my 25 shells fired all too quickly and my session was over.  However, I smashed 18 shots out of the 25 and was really rather pleased with myself.  Its another thing learnt that I think I'd like to do again, hopefully with a nice group of friends for a fun outing.  The more people you go with the cheaper it gets and obviously you can always buy more shells.  

It was pretty quiet when I visited on a Sunday morning so I got all the attention from the instructor, but, I didn't see any groups of stags or well-to-do gents in their shooting garb.  However, it clearly is a stereotype for a reason as when I returned to the clubhouse, Gary offered to take pictures of me holding my gun, dressed in flat cap and hunting jacket.  Naturally I acquiesced to the offer.  Rah.  Job done.