Today I woke up before the sun and drove South to a shooting range between Sumner and Orting to shoot clay pigeons out of the sky with a twelve-gauge shotgun with my dad and my sister. I managed to hit about five of them, but wasn’t actually counting.
Shooting flying targets with the shotgun was much more challenging than shooting stationary targets with a bolt action rifle. You don’t have time to line anything up in the sights so you’ve got to go by feel. Having a magazine was nice, but I didn’t count rounds the first time I was shooting so I’d forget to reload.