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1000 yards and counting

When the alarm clock went off at 6:15 yesterday morning I was severely tempted to burrow my head under the pillow and ignore it. I'll admit to pressing snooze, after all it is a rather rude hour to be awoken on a Sunday morning. However, it was my choice to set it at that hour and as soon as I could process that thought I rolled over the duvet and towards the floor, hoping that my legs would react - face-planting not being my first choice for Sunday activities. 

With an almost life-time supply of coffee and two very laden arms I bundled myself into the car. Set the sat-nav and turned up the radio. 

An hour and some very dubious singing later I drove past many camping bikers to where the rest of the club were meeting for breakfast, and more coffee. 

Eventually it was time to head to the firing point,  unpack the boot (including my new ear defenders - housemates beware :) ) and make the most of the lovely, sunny day. Just before the lunchtime cut-off I headed to the 900 yard firing point.  

After lunch, up the hill and 100 yards back we decamped at the 1000 yard firing point. I won't mention my first round score, suffice to say that it was nothing to write home about. However, as the whole of Stickledown emptied out I lay down in the prone position again. 

It was one of those moments, where you manage to do exactly what you set out to do . Possibly also known as beginners luck. Who knows? But I was shaking with excitement when I eventually stood up. Having dropped only one shot from the bulls-eye I scored 48.6 (out of 50.) That's nine bulls-eyes, including six 'V' bulls. Over 1000 yards.


Quite a proud moment!


Lucky

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