Shotgun Shells come in more than one Size?

Hello, This is Jonathan making a blogging appearance. I was recently invited to go trap shooting by Gary, a member of our church. He gets a group of guys together to go shooting at least one Tuesday a month. Normally, being my anti-social self, if I were invited by an acquaintance to participate in an activity I would turn them down, at least the first time they asked. (This is especially true if the activity would exclude Tonia, and was something I had never tried and was pretty sure I would not be good at). However, trap shooting sounded interesting and Gary sweetened the deal by providing the gun, shells and transportation.

I drove up Tuesday night after work, grabbed dinner at a teriyaki place, and met at Gary’s house at 6:30pm. There were four other guys there so our total party was six. We arrived at the range. Gary gave us each a gun (mine was double barreled, very cool) and Box of shells in a holder which strapped to your belt. . (I was pleasantly surprised at the thought of shooting a whole box). We then went inside to pay. As we walked in I was watching the shooters currently outside on the range. They were consistently hitting the target (a 4 inch bright orange, clay disk, called a pigeon) sending orange pieces flying all over the range. I remember seeing one-person miss and thinking “with a whole box of ammo I hope I can at least hit one”. I followed the guys up to the counter and paid the $5.50 to shoot. Thinking I would rather have a $5 bill in my wallet then four ones I paid with a $10 bill and a $1 bill. The guy behind the counter asked if I wanted “one round”. This confused me because I thought that I already had a box of 25 rounds. I said something intelligent like “um, sure.” And he gave me $5.50 back so I figured I had gotten it right.

We then proceeded to wait and small talk for about 10 minutes until room opened up for us on the range. I generally hate small talk and this is why I avoid social engagements like this. Gary is extremely nice but on the surface of thing we do not have a lot in common. He is just about to retire and so we are at different stages of life and have different hobbies and interests. However, I took part in the conversation, mostly asking questions about how to trap shoot “better” with out giving away that the largest gun I had ever fired was an air powered pellet gun when I was eight. I’ll pause here to note that by the end of the evening we had moved beyond small talk and I have deeper appreciation of Gary.

Ok, so they called our names. At this moment, you have as much idea as to what happens next as I did at the time. So I did what any one would do, I followed the crowd . . .

[This the is way trap shooting works, you have a group of five shooters. Each shooter lines up at a shooting station. The stations are in a row about 16 yards from the trap house. The trap house is a building sunk down in the ground which now holds a modern automatic machine which shoots clay disks randomly in one of about 7 trajectories. Each shooting station has a microphone, which will recognize a human voice. So, when you yell “pull” it launches the pigeon. Each shooter takes one shot and then the next shooter takes a shot until all have made one shot. This repeats for 5 shots per person and then you rotate down one station. This is repeated until each shooter takes five shots from each location for a total of 25 shots. This is the afore mentioned “round”. Each set of five shooting stations has a range employee or “Trapper” who sits in a tall chair and tallies each shooter’s hits and misses.]

. . . Fortunately I was the last of our group of five (Gary gracefully opted to shoot with a different group leaving just us 5). I watched happily as most of the people in our group missed their first shot. “hey, I’m not the only rookie”, I thought. I proceeded to call “pull”, and nothing happened. I repeat “pull” a little louder . . . nothing. I quickly repeat again “PULL” hoping no one will notice that I am to incompetent to operate the voice activated launching system. This time an orange dot flies from the trap house. I quickly pull the trigger with a satisfying “BLAM”, that I can hear through my ear protection, and a decent kick to go with it. Of course I miss, but that is fine by me I have outwitted the voice activated launcher, and hey I still have 24 shots to hit something. My next shot is also a miss but I feel like I’m starting to get the hang of it. I reload and take my third shot “pull” – “click”. Now what? “pull – click” is not anywhere near as fun as “pull – BLAM” (although the clay pigeon is in equal danger either way). I look down for obvious blunders: safety off - check, correct barrel - check, gun loaded – check. I decide to try again. (Someone once said the definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting a different result, but hey it worked with the stupid “pull” machine earlier). “pull” – “click” Same result. By now the other four guys are all looking at me wondering what is going on. Our trapper has now realized this particular set of 5 shooters are not the most experienced and he gets down to help me out. He knocks out the shell and we replace it with another. I try again. “pull” – “click” Now I’m really holding things up. By now I’m sure I have the attention of everyone on the range. Sure enough am soon greeted by a gentleman in a green hunting jacket who asks what’s wrong (as if I know – the gun won’t go “BLAM”). He opens up the gun and knocks out the shell. He notices that it is a 16-gauge shell. He presumes correctly that I am firing a 12-gauge gun and as a result the narrower 16 –gauge shell has slipped down the barrel beyond the reach of the firing pin. (I pause to point out that it makes no sense that shotgun shells get narrower as the gauge gets larger and bullets get bigger as the caliber gets larger. Go figure. I continue . . .) I now realize that when Gary gave me the box of shells and the holder there were two extra shells in the holder. These were the ones I used for the first two shots. However, my whole box was the 16-gauge shell. By now, Gary had arrived and apologized for the confusion insisting that I shouldn’t be blamed because I didn’t know anything (although he put it much nicer then that). He gave me a new box of 12 gauge shells and I finally proceeded with my third shot. “Pull – BLAM” another happy miss. Only 22 shots left.
Things improved from here. The gentleman in green has now identified me as a rookie and a potential danger to the other individuals within firing distance and decides it is wise to stick very closely to my side. As he monitors my progress throughout the rest of the round, he offers friendly instruction and tips. On my fourth shot I was awed by the site of multiple pieces of orange clay falling to the ground. I hit it! Wow, my goal was accomplished and I still had the better part of a box of shells to shoot. The round continued from there, with me hitting one out of four shots or so, and the gentleman in green offering new tips along the way. These tips must have been working because I continued to hit the occasional target. However, I tended to only be able to execute one tip at a time. Thus when he said to keep my feet balanced I forgot about following the target with my barrel even after I pulled the trigger. Never the less, I ended the round impressed that I had hit more than one target and feeling quite happy.

I then found out that we had time (and shells) for a second round. So, the five of us hurried in to pay for a second round. We came out in time to watch Gary start his first round. We discovered we were quite happy he was not in our group because he would have certainly shown us up. After missing the first shot (which hardly counts because he was not warmed up) Gary proceeded to hit 10 in a row finishing with 21 out of 25 hits.

We were then up for our second round. My instructor had decided that I was safe to leave on my own and so I was on my own. I hit two of my first shots. This gave me the goal of hitting 40% for the round. I held one better than this pace for the next ten shots. However, started to get better and I hit 3 of my next 5. With five shots left I realized I was doing as well any anyone in our group of 5 (two of whom had gone more than once before). My confidence was growing and despite missing my next shot I was determined to do better then my companions. I hit my next to shots and with only two shots left I was convinced I was something special; after all this was my first time. By now my shoulder ached from the recoil of the gun, but my pride would not let me consider changing my grip because I was on a roll. I hit each of my last two targets finishing with four straight hits. I finished the round with a total of 14 hits out of 25 (over 50%)! Even better I beat out the other shooters in my group (the last thing my ego needed).

We all thanked Gary promising him we would come again if he invited us. I hope he asks again soon. Based on my last four shots I’m almost considering getting a shotgun of my own. But my shoulder is quite sore, so I think I’ll hold off for now.