Lanier Shooting Sports Lifestyles – June 2015

Happy June everyone! I am not sure where the time goes, but it sure flies by. My May was so full of travel, weddings and celebrations that I am not 100 percent certain what day it is right now. My middle child graduated from high school, my daughter had her junior prom and one of my best friend’s daughters got married. There have been a birthday celebration (ugh), athletic banquets and baccalaureate services. This is a long way of saying there has been less shooting time than we would have liked around here. But alas, we must have our priorities.

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A Good Point

Scooby stands at the highest point of Crubenmore (a 3,000-acre beat on Drumochter estates, which is part of the Cairngorms National Park). He breathes in this mysterious landscape – with its light grey sky, patches of bare rock face and carpet of short muted heather – hoping to catch the scent of grouse.

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Purdey No. 8142 Visits Nebraska’s Bohemian Alps

This past October we visited my wife’s sister and brother-in-law in central Nebraska. I was a willing participant. I love my extended family, I love visiting that part of my country and I had a selfish motive: shooting at the Oak Creek Sporting Club in Brainard, Nebraska with a pristine thumb lever Purdey built in 1869 loaned to me by a friend. Shooting a classic British shotgun in the heart of the New World intrigued me.

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Holly and the Ninja

“You’re gonna hate this part,” I warned Ninja.

My 19-year-old co-worker – nicknamed for her ability to get anything done efficiently and well – immediately began to cringe and squeal, which was exactly what I wanted.

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Lanier Shooting Sports Lifestyles – May 2015

As I stood yesterday looking at the big looming facade of Gold’s Gym, dreading the forthcoming workout, I thought “Damn all that meat and Malbec!” Yep, it happens every year! We go to Argentina and we become gluttons. We eat too much, drink great Malbecs and a few (or several) cervezas and shoot until we cannot hold the gun up anymore.

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Cold Weather Pheasants

I could feel the bite of the north wind on my face as I struggled to break trail through the deep snow. I was exercising my fingers inside my gloves to maintain feeling as my bird dog Timber, playfully skimmed along the top of the crusted snow. However, for me, every step was a chore but I had to keep pace and maintain a good shooting position.

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