So today I went to the range with partner, and my double rifle- Did I mention I have a double rifle? Anyway, I got to shoot it for the first time.

Oh, my god.

here’s a target. Well, not actually a target. I got to the range and realized in my haste to shoot the new baby, I had packed the rifle and the ammo, and little else. So i took a sharpie and drew a dot on a piece of cardboard. Here it is.

Range 50 yards. The dot is around two inches. The bulletholes form a constellation. The constellation’s name is “Ouch”.

The rifle was regulated with factory Hornady Leverevolution rounds, so that’s what I bought. They’re not loaded hot. I’m told that this rifle will take more, but I won’t be pushing it. At least not now. It comes to your shoulder with some authority, but the gun has enough weight that it absorbs some of that for you. What it does do, is punch you in the face.
The stock feels fine, I have a perfect weld on it, and when you pull the trigger it’s like catching a left hook. Not from Ali, but it hits hard enough that you notice. After ten shots, I had developed a knot of sorts under my cheekbone.

I felt SWELL.

Yes, there are eight shots in the cardboard. They’re all in an 8″ circle. The other two shots went into a bowling pin. WHich was actually still hot from the impact when I picked it up afterwards.

And it has a name now.

When I first got it, I couldn’t stop touching it. (I told you it was like having a huge wiener) And I felt like Lenny. I wanted to hug it, and pet it, and squeeze it, and call it George.

And then I shot it, and it named itself. I put those eight rounds through the cardboard, and I was admiring it, when Partner points behind the target, and says “Jesus Christ”.

There’s a hole in the berm, about a foot deep and about three feet across. From eight rounds.

It’s name is “Backhoe”