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Warrick Edmonds

You know, in the gun owning universe, sometimes there are moments of true bliss. Recently I had a very trying day attempting to sort out a wayward 7mmRemMag. It's been teasing me with almost acceptable groups interrupted by flyers to the point I'm thinking of taking up fishing instead. But after nearly a whole day of torment with the 7mm, one guy at the range offered me a few shots with his old beaten up 22-250 and at 200m, all five went into a 50 cent coin. It was such a good feeling, truly made my day. Another time that stands out was when we arrived to find a pistol group had taken over the range, I'd miss-read the programme. They were pretty welcoming though and one guy let me shoot around 20 rounds from his 30-30 single shot handgun. First time I'd ever used a pistol, so wasn't it pleasing to hit the 200m swinging gong about 80% of the time. Then there was the last hunt, when a fallow deer sprang out of the shrubs around 150m away and started jogging across my field of view. My shot from the 7mm went through the 'chest' about an inch behind the front leg and angled across so it would have gone out in front of the opposite leg, perfect, with instant results. Sounds like bragging but that's not what I am meaning. What I'm saying is, amongst the hours and hours of preparation at the range, the careful hand-loading, the questions to Nathan, the search for sub MOA, all that thought and fiddling around, there are occasionally moments of genuine, unadulterated satisfaction.