Untitled Document

Celebrating the Second Amendment

by andy baillargeon

When I moved to Utah I expected a very conservative and regulated existence. As many of you non-conformist, radical individuals already know, this can hold quite true until the topic of guns comes up.

I recently embarked on a journey that involved high-powered artillery and tactical military maneuvers. I've shot some guns in my day but nothing that could put four separate holes through a quarter from 120 yards. This combination of precision and power can only be displayed by semi-automatic assault rifles, more specifically an AR 10-.308.

Don't worry, this didn't mean anything to me either until I rested it securely on my shoulder and pulled the trigger. Being a novice marksman, I expected nothing more than an unscathed target and a battered male ego. But with the perfection of these weapons, the ego remained in tact and the target was left victimized.

This journey began at 0-800. The three of us arrived at the hidden canyon site after a quick trip east on I-80.

"Private, gather the weapons and assemble them in the shooting area!"

"Sir, yes sir!"

We had along with us two AR 15-.233's, an AR 10-.308, and an AK-47, and one .40 calibur, semi-automatic Glock pistol. We were ready to start the demonstration: the weapons were loaded and ready, targets secured, and orders to commence shooting were give.

We warmed up with the smaller AR 15's at medium range.

"This is your first time shooting one o' these, ain't it boy?!"

"Sir, why do you ask, sir!"

"Cause my grandma can shoot betteren' you and she's been dead for 15 years!"

After a good while of warming up, the big daddy was unveiled. The AR 10 had a shell almost twice the size of the AR 15 and twice the kick to match. About 100 rounds later the static shooting moved to military drills and maneuvers.

"What'da boys say we make this a bit interesting?!"

"Sir, whatdya mean interesting, sir?!"

"Are you smart mouthin' me boy, er are ya just yella?!"

"Sir, neither, sir! Just curious, sir!"

"Quit flappin' that fat can of yours, and I'll show ya what I mean!"

Three stations were set up about ten clicks apart down range. Each station was assigned a specific position to shoot from, two shots from each. The positions were kneeling, prone, and a weak-handed shot. All of this was going to be timed. We were each given our own target to monitor target hits.

"Alright ladies, we do this one at a time and you will begin on my mark!"

"Yes sir!"

"I can't hear you!"

"SIR, YES, SIR!"

We approached the targets and the other two had all eight holes while mine only had six.

"Son this is unacceptable, you're about as worthless as tits on a boar, drop and give me 50!"

The next demonstration was called "the jungle trail." Five targets were strategically place in the thicket along a single track. Once you saw the target you must neutralize it with no more than two shots. I knew after my first failure I must not repeat. This was more my style, a commando mission where it took more than mere marksmanship, but cunning and grit. Yea, this was the exercise for me.

I moved like the wind with lethal accuracy. The trail was overgrown with underbrush, but it didn't slow me down. I destroyed each enemy target with organ rupturing shots, the war paint loosened by the sweat dripping from my face, and in the end I was awarded a purple heart and the medal of honor for bravery. Thank God for Rambo movies.

We ended the day with some long range firing, shooting full pop cans off the top of a near-by cliff.

"Boy, you may have proven yourself on the last exercise, but I still say you're about as useless as shooting pool with a rope! Knock that can off the ridge and I'll promote you to luitenent!"

"Yes sir, I'll use the AK-47, sir!"

I unleashed a barrage at the cliff but the can remained in tact on its perch. I was stripped of my medals and relieved from duty.

What you have just read was based on a true story. Some of the events may not have actually happened. Names weren't used to protect the innocent.

Well, I think I have found the answer to this complex question. The thrill of shooting these guns is unmatched. The connection between man and machine takes you away from reality. So the complex answer is this, IT'S DAMN FUN!

So remember, just when you think Utah has taken all your rights, you can look upon my story and know, we are the gun totenist, sharp shootinist state around, and were damn proud of it.