I grew up with guns. The love of shooting is something that has been instilled in me for as long as I can remember. Some of my favorite times growing up were going to the farm in Idaho and shooing guns with my dad and grandpa. We would set up cans or other assorted targets in front of giant stacks of hay and spend the afternoon shooting.
I remember the first time that I went skeet shooting. I didn’t hit anything but it was still fun. My shoulder hurt for days. I think it was the first time I’d ever shot a shotgun.
I remember when I came to the realization, years after the fact, that the reason that I never killed any pheasants during the hunt is because I was only armed with a BB gun. When I mentioned this to my dad, he told me that it was because none of the other hunters wanted to get shot. Since I was probably six at the time, I agree that it was sound logic on their part.
