In Sarasota in the spring the polo season begins, the tarpon start to run and the sun allows you play through the mid-day heat. Ms. Deborah and I took a diversion from the beach, golf and stomping divots to break some clays this past spring at the
Sarasota Trap Skeet and Clays. This facility has every type of clay shooting you could want: trap, skeet, 5-stand and sporting clays. We had started out with intention of a quick round of clays and then lunch on the beach. I was anxious to break in a new over and under 20 gauge. Well a lot did break, not so many clays though. Here’s what happened. As we rented a golf cart, the proprietress explained that the sporting clay stations wrapped around the trap and skeet fields between the fields and a canal. Maybe you’ll get to see the resident gator, she offered. Where I come from we measure reptiles in inches not feet. I made sure Ms. Deborah was well acquainted with the cart’s controls. The first station was a report pair, simulating crossing quail. As Ms. Deborah manned the trap control the first pair went off without a hitch.
Pull! Boom. Boom. The second pair is where the breaking started to begin.
Pull! Boom. Click. Click? Yes click. I broken open the over and under and tried again but the trigger was frozen and safety was musher than a rotten apple. Anyone care to guess the manufacturer of the ill-fated over-and-under? Here’s a clue:
Il fucile da caccia è inceppato. Riding back to the clubhouse, we rented a 20 gauge since I had boxes of 20 gauge shells. I opted for a
Beretta Urika. Driving back to the stations, Ms. Deborah’s gave me her impression of
Mister Toad’s Wild Ride. The spiny palmetto scratching as we whizzed to station 2.
Pull! Boom--ouch. Pull! Boom-ouch. The semi-automatic worked like a dream but the stock was short and the recoil jammed my thumb into my nose on each shot. I needed to figure out a way to stop rapping my nose with my thumb. On to station 3 the cart died like a cell phone when you really need it. We had to go back to the clubhouse again. Fortunately two gents who had caught up to our movable feast offered their ride to return to the clubhouse. The two wore dungarees held up with suspenders. Pith helmets topped their heads. With their beards they looked like protégés of the
Duck Commander or two members of a ZZ Top cover band. One’s beard tapered to a point and tickled his belt buckle while the other’s was cut off straight so that every time he turned his head from side to side he brushed off his belly. I can only imagine what Ms. Deborah and I looked like to them. I thanked them and warned them about the canal and gator. They smiled. They could tell we were out-of-towners. Back yet again to the clubhouse, where the proprietress eyed me like a troublemaker. She was quick to find another cart and get us on our way. So back to the Duck Commander crews with a thank you and handshake. On to station 4 with me hanging on to the cart’s handgrip, dodging the palmetto and wondering when the gator would appear. So I would like to end this post by saying the gator bite the golf cart tire. Or I broke a clean 100. But the Urika coughed out the last empty and Ms. Deborah remarked: Now didn’t you make that look easy.
What really rubs my fur the wrong way are home buyers who purchase a house near a shooting range and after they move in they complain about noise, toxic lead and whatever else their lawyers dream up. You read here recently about a range in NY and one last year about a range in VA, and about how these ranges struggled or continue to struggle to stay open. Well the NSSF has announced a new program designed to help local public and private ranges increase participation in the shooting sports, which might help to keep the clays flying at places marked for closure by the anti’s. The Range Partnership Grant Program isn’t just for clay shooting either. It’s for any type of shooting sport. The NSSF has $250,000 per year allocated for projects that specifically address one or more of the following objectives: recruitment of new shooters, reactivation of lapsed shooters and increased opportunities for active shooters to try another discipline. Eligible organizations are limited to public or private ranges and clubs, or educational institutions with hunting or shooting sports curriculums and faculty. The NSSF is especially interested in new, creative approaches. In fact, forget about delivering a plate of cookies or a bundt cake to your new neighbors, hand them a pair of ear plugs and invite them to the range to bust a few clay or punch holes in paper.
Bobcats are one of those predators whose population ebbs and flows following the cycle of its prey. With the rabbit and grouse populations in NY on the rise, so too, are bobcat numbers. Bobcats are one of the most stealthy predators in the northeast. Coyotes can’t hold a candle to the bobcat’s ability to melt into the forest and literally disappear. And it is—or was—a rare thing to see a bobcat. Now with more on the prowl feasting on grouse and rabbit that purr you hear is not your heart beating faster knowing the grouse population is on an up tick, but of a 20-something-pound feline drawing a bead on old ruff.
The International Shooting Federation (ISSF), in Munich, Germany, governs Olympic shooting sports. They recently ranked the top three skeet shooters in the world. American Haley Dunn ranked the number one in the world, followed by Ning Wei of China ranked 2nd, and Christine Brinker of Germany 3rd. Smells like Olympic gold is in store for one of these shooters.
I am absolutely convinced that nature has a sense of humor. On a recent trek through the land trust Cooper and I encountered a tree felled by a beaver. There’s nothing really unusually about that especially since the land trust has a beaver pond within its boundaries. And the tree was a hardwood so common in these parts I don’t remember if it was oak, ash or maple. The thing that made me laugh out loud was what was on the tree.
The tree held a red trail plague indicating that this was the red branch of the trail, which is helpful if you are “Daniel-Boone challenged” in the woods. Obviously the beaver in the area are sick and tired of Cooper and I traipsing near their pond. Well that was a clever beaver indeed and it only took Cooper and I an extra three hours to find our way out of the woods. Cooper didn’t seem to mind. He had the scent of woodcock in his nose. And I was confounded by beaver yet again.
If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery then it is with mixed emotion that someone is taking our cue. We 
A few week ago at the 2008 ISSF World Cup for Shotgun in Suhl, Germany, Australia's Michael Diamond (two-time Olympic gold medalist) broke 145 targets for the gold medal; Bret Erickson of the US (Don’t Mess with Texas) claimed the silver with 144; and the bronze went to Russia's Alexey Alipov, the 2004 Olympic gold medalist, with 143 targets broke. Italy's Daniele Resca finished in fourth. Bostjan Macek of Slovenia and Marian Kovacocy of Slovakia tied for fifth with 141 targets each and in a shoot-off, Macek bested Kovacocy and took fifth while Kovacocy finished sixth. It looks like Erickson is a real contender for trap gold in China this year.
We sure are finding out the gun dog you like as well as the states you love to hunt birds. Don't worry we aren't asking for your secret coverts so if you have not taken the survey, please take a minute to fill it out. All you need to do is click the link to the right that says SURVEY and the survey will open. It's a heck of a lot more fun than mowing the grass this long weekend. For those of you who have filled it out, have fun mowing.
From Michigan is the brother team of Arthur and Jeff at 