EW’s Outdoors Issue 2012
Happiness is a Warm Gun?
Shooting outside city limits
By Andy Valentine Photos by Trask Bedortha
W
here I’m from there’s a dearth of
fi rearms. Hell, I grew up watching
bobbies hit the beat with a billy club and
a goofy hat — no pistols at their hips and
certainly a lot fewer reasons to utilize bullets, considering
the United Kingdom’s nationwide ban on pistols and other
concealable hand-cannons. But in the rural U.S., fi rearms
and the great American outdoors go together like Rupert
Murdoch and phone hacking.
Wanting to swim in the murky waters of this generally
maligned American pastime, I began hunting for the man
or woman who could help me learn more about just how
enjoyable target shooting can be. I was surprised to fi nd
that, for a person who has about as much experience
with shooting guns as Ghandi, tracking down a few lead
catapults wasn’t all that hard. The two fellas I contacted
(who would like to remain nameless — let’s call them
Heckler and Koch) were all for lending me their guns and
ammo so I too could experience the Second Amendment
fi rsthand.
I had no idea the shooting laws in this country —
especially here in Oregon — were so liberal. You can
literally drive out beyond city limits with a borrowed gun
and start fi ring at dusty old beer cans and miscellaneous
targets. Just don’t bust caps too close to the road or near a
house or barn unless you want to pay damages on a pissed-
off dude’s truck, or if you particularly enjoy being labeled
as a complete fucking imbecile — because that’s what
you’ll be.
That said, there’s a lot of things that fl y out in the bush,
and I don’t just mean bullets. Tannerite targets, for instance,
are completely legal and explode like the Challenger
Space Shuttle if you add enough powder. First concocted
locally by Daniel J. Tanner of Pleasant Hill, Tannerite is a
mercurial mix of ammonium nitrate and aluminum powder
that really takes to hot bullets. Like, if you shoot at this
stuff from too close a range it could blow your dumb ass
up. Heckler and Koch had no qualms with using Tannerite
— although I’ll admit I was a little disturbed at how bright
their eyes were when they began mixing the chemicals out
of my trunk.
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Cackling as they loaded rifl es, handguns and clay
pigeon launchers, my guides embodied just how much the
liberation of fi rearms beyond city limits means to some
people. Given that they are both hard-working professionals
with clean criminal records and with families, Heckler and
Koch seemed to fi nd nothing but pure catharsis in the bang
of a barrel and the chance to escape. Understand: it’s not
just about the shooting — it’s the getting out of town and
respect this morally questionable device that (like it or not)
has punctuated human history for almost 650 years? That’s
something no videogame ever taught me.
In hindsight, sitting on my ass with a controller is
fundamentally not as awesome, or healthy, as getting out
into the wild and blowing through a box of bullets. And a
great deal of people feel the same way, apparently.
There’s a much bigger following of this ritualistic
bullet-wasting than I had previously
thought. You can pretty much count on
seeing other shooters out there — or at
least hearing them. If they come near you,
try to look congenial. As Heckler found
out on our little expedition, looking at
a guy while holding a loaded shotgun
makes you seem about as disquieting as
forced sex with a wood-chipper.
“Get your fi nger off the trigger. Every
gun is loaded. Even if you know it’s not,
treat it like it is,” Koch kept telling me
— a sure sign that, despite a demeanor of
brazen nonchalance, this man also knew
how to be safe around fi rearms. Educate
yourself on gun safety before you go shooting unless you
want something awful to happen — but that should just be
common sense, right?
So what does the Second Amendment in action look
like to a foreigner? Part of me worries that a bullet is going
to fl y 50 miles and hit me in the head while I’m eating
lunch at Jiffy Market, but there’s another issue that’s hard
to ignore: I started out wanting to hold an SKS assault rifl e
and pop off round after round of power and fury, adrenaline
coursing through my veins as my thirst for loud, smoky
adventure was quenched. I ended up doing just that. And,
with a childhood of thinking fi rearms were for irresponsible
gun-freaks (and farmers) behind me, I had fun.
All this tells us is that target shooting is like a drunken
meathead at a bar: He’s loud, aggressive and intimidating
on the outside, but in his heart there’s an innocuous,
childish soul crying out for attention. I say give it to him.
You could fi nd out he’s not as fi erce as he seems.
ew
The sound of a pop echoing
through the valley is something
that every American should
hear once in his life
blowing off steam in the wild. Without this hobby, I got the
feeling these two would live their lives like caged panthers.
The sound of a pop echoing through the valley is
something that every American should hear once in his
life (after all, this country was founded on gunfi re in the
outdoors), and the smell of gun powder and empty casings
is almost nostalgic of a time when we were young; mere
boys pretending to play with guns and naively wishing that
it could get just a little more realistic.
Of course, as a child in England I was destined to while
away the hours pretending that sticks were guns or that I
was legitimately pulling a trigger instead of hitting the R2
button on my Playstation controller — just like some kids
here. And if you think a piece of plastic vibrating when you
shoot in a videogame is even remotely realistic, think again.
I’ve never experienced anything like the anticipation that
comes attached to fi ring a weapon for the fi rst time. What’s
the recoil like on this thing? How loud is it? Why should I
EUGENE WEEKLY MAY 10, 2012
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