Montana Revisited

After Wyoming, it was time to return to Montana to visit one of my friends that I had passed by on the rush to my High School Reunion in Minnesota (No I haven't covered the Reunion yet, but I will).

Our primary activity was going out to shoot some guns! Yes, I had brought some extras for recreation, or if I found myself in the midst of some civil strife. You never know, these days.

So, we loaded up and headed for the "range". It's actually a glorified "gravel pit" on BLM land. An impromptu site perfect for the #1 shooting sport in America: Plinking.

Before I get to that though, the ride there provided an interesting incident.

On the way there, I decided to show off my HEMI endowed beast a bit and gunned it up to 120 mph on the highway. That was mostly to hear her growl a bit. It must be the air in Montana. I then settled down to the speed limit and cruised along, until...

Yup. The Popo. I saw the lights flashing and pulled over. Needless to say, I thought I got popped for doing 45 over the speed limit. Ugh. This was gonna cost me a bundle.

The conversation with the Montana State Trooper went something like this:

"May I see your license, registration and insurance?"

"Sure" (Handed them over)

"I'll be right back."

Wait while he runs the data. He comes back.

"Where are you all going?"

"Shooting at the BLM at (wherever it was)."

"You have guns?"

"Yup."

"Well I stopped you for speeding. You were going 65 in a 50 back there."

:::GULP:::

"Sorry Officer, I thought the speed limit was 65 before it went to 75."

"Well before it goes to 65, it's only 50."

"Oh, I didn't see that."

"I clocked you just before that. I am only giving you a warning. Now, take care and be safe."

"Thank you Officer, I appreciate that. You be safe, too."

And that was that. Whew!

My friend and I (I'll call him ROM), talked about the stop on the rest of the ride to the range. First of all, I got off lucky. ROM suggested I buy a Lotto ticket before the luck ran out. Then we wondered why the trooper didn't even look at the guns and stuff. He would have found two guys with five handguns an AR rifle with an assault vest & loaded magazines, plus a shotgun. I imagine that's normal in Montana. Perhaps even a mite light. In any event, it was of no concern.

Then, we wondered what the Trooper was thinking while trying to catch up to us. If he clocked me that early on, he must have wondered how we managed to get so far ahead at the speed limit. Or maybe he saw my RETIRED Thin Blue Line sticker on the rear window? Don't know. He was very professional. He never asked about me or my former status.



In any event. We got to the range. ROM had just bought a new shotgun and wanted to try it out, so we did that first. Now I normally don't shoot 20 gauge shotguns. I am used to 12 gauge and combat shooting with it. The 20 gauge seemed a bit like a kid's gun, but it's adequate. I don't know, but I assume 20 gauge ammo is cheaper.


Next, we played with my HK's in .40 S&W. ROM likes the caliber, so that was not an issue. I let him try out the USP Compact I carried on duty as well as the P2000 SK mini blaster I got as a retirement present from my BP buddies. Two thumbs up from ROM. He liked the DAO triggers.

We next transitioned to my pet "Jessica": my tricked out COLT law enforcement carbine.

He fell in love with her. How could he not? She's as close to a military grade M4 carbine a civilian can own in the USA...plus, she's as pretty as her namesake.


I was also going to say, "...and just as tight" but I don't know that first hand.





Anyway, ROM wanted to see how well she handled in my hands, so I gave her a go. It must have been the stress of his watching eyes that got me in the groove. After a few close misses I managed to get the two clays we had set up as well as the half empty water bottle in quick succession. Those would be clear head shots in a child sized zombie. Not too shabby for a fat, old warhorse!