Who Knew That Was There?

On Wednesday, I found something I am pretty happy about. Just a 1/2 hour drive from my house, is a decent sporting clays course.

When I first moved to L.A., I went to school at California Institute of the Arts, which is north of Los Angeles proper, in the Santa Clarita Valley. To get there, you need to drive up Interstate 5 through the Newhall pass and down into the valley. Over the years, I have made this drive many times, but I never in my wildest dreams, thought there was a gun club right there in the Newhall pass.

Since I took up this sport, I've been looking for sporting clays courses. Oak Tree Gun Club is right here in L.A. and will rent you a shotgun. Which is important for me, seeing as I don't own one, yet.

I was able to talk two of my friends here in L.A. to joining me. Both Kevin and Jerome have never been to a sporting clays course, much less shot a shotgun. Kevin told me he'd been quail hunting recently, but never tried this sport. We were all excited to go.

We showed up at the club house, and after a little bit of wandering about, found the window where we had to check in. Oak Tree doesn't take reservations for the sporting clays course, but that's fine because no one ever shoots it on weekdays. Which works out great for me, since I've not got a regular job, I can probably go shooting on any given weekday I'm home. But Nick, who was helping us, says it can be pretty busy on the weekends.

While I paid, Kevin and Jerome watch a few old timers practicing at the trap stations. I could see the excitement build in their eyes while watching these expert shooters knock clay after clay out of the sky. Nick handed me the shotgun and three hundred rounds and directed us to a gator (basically an off road golf cart), where he would drive us to the start of the sporting clays course.

We drove passed the skeet and trap ranges, took a left by the pistol range and then headed straight up the side of a mountain. We got to the top of the ridge and turned right to the first station. Nick showed us how to work the traps, pointed out which direction the course went, told us to call him when we finished and climbed back into the gator and left us.

Jerome shooting at station one, Kevin is acting as his "trapper". The view was just stunning, and we had a gorgeous day to boot.

The entire course runs across the top of a ridge. The view was absolutely stunning. Los Angeles had a few days of rain last week, which makes for super clear skies. No smog. From where we stood on the first station, you could almost see the ocean.

The first few stations were built out off the ridge, so most of the shots were down and away. This also made for a really pretty garden of spent shotgun shells, just below the station. No point in trying to collect those, you'd probably just slide a few 100 feet to the valley below.

As we moved down the course, the shots changed some, including shooting at 60s, the smallest target they make. But I was a little disappointed they didn't have a station with rabbits.

A standard size 90 target, a CD for comparison and a size 60 target. Now if I can only get a battue...

There was a great station with a target called a battue (pronounce "bah-too"). It's a completely flat disk, that was released from overhead to the right. Because it's so thin, it travels really fast with the ability to dip and dive if it finds a pocket of wind.

Here's Kevin lining up to shoot at the battue.

We were shooting 4 sets of 2 per station. At the battue station was also a regular 90 that came from overhead to the left. The shot was so difficult, that a wager cropped up between Kevin and Jerome. The wager started simply, if Kevin could hit all 8 targets, Jerome would buy dinner at a nice steakhouse. Of course on the first round, Kevin failed. Then the bet changed. For each battue he hit, he'd get something else. Let's just say Kevin earned a salad with croûtons and a baked potato with butter.

All in all, a great day. Of the four courses I shot, this was, honestly, my least favorite. But it's similar to the bumper sticker, "The worst day fishing is still better than the best day working." In my case, "The worst day shooting clays is still better than, well, most things."

Kevin is chomping at the bit to go again. Perhaps on Friday...