Thursday, July 4, 2013

The unplanned shoot.



Friday afternoon. Almost late for work but not worried. A compulsory overtime set by management due to the increasing number of medical requests was not at the top of my to-do list for the weekend. I routinely punched in. 16:02.. no pressure. When I got inside the office, almost everyone was on their feet. The work queue had been reduced to a figure manageable to those who were on regular duty! "This sucks," I told myself under a heavy sigh. All my camping plans down the drain for nothing. I hurriedly asked the shift supervisor if I can cancel my overtime. The affirmative reply gave me a big smile..


Now, what to do, where to go? Reynar suggested a photo shoot at Shk Zayed grand mosque (which we already did in the past- and why haven't I blogged about it yet?) I was up for it just to work out my shutter finger. Then he blurted out: "why not try a different shoot in Al Ain- one with real guns?" That did it. I was all into the plan. we started asking around the office who wanted to come along. Luckily, a gang was formed and off we went to our destination 120 kilometres away.



An hour later, we were at Al Ain equestrian, shooting and golf club paying our fees and getting hype for the unplanned firing. First stop: 9mm pistol firing! It was June the club had a summer offer of 90AED for 50 rounds. That deal was the bang for the buck. A short safety emphasis from the range officer (which was not really enough for most first timers in the group) all about loading the clips, pointing the gun, squeezing the trigger and oh, putting on ear protection. In no time, we were firing away at targets set at around 50 feet as per NRA indoor shooting standards. The ladies had to use the .22 pistol, which was appropriate for greenhorns but deadly if mishandled.


 My first impression of the compact Caracal nine was that it was overused, the slider was rattling and other signs of wearing were evident. The piece I used needed cleaning and oiling. Giving a little consideration that it was late in the afternoon and thousands of shells in the floor, the guns must have seen a lot of action for the day. I noticed that no matter how dead-on the target was in my sights, the bull's eye target always seemed to be "bullet proof".  If only I had a scope to check how I was shooting, I could have adjusted my sights. 

 At the end of the 50 rounds, I got a fair result- it was alright- literally! As in all the bullet punches were to the right of the bull's eye! This is humiliating.

With the urge to redeem ourselves from the rather uncomplimentary results that were forever immortalized in our target papers, we opted to try out the .22 rifles that were considerably cheaper at 70 AED for 50 rounds.


Since it was possible to shooters to split the 50 rounds, our pockets demanded that we do so. So there I was prone on the mattress with a .22 caliber KK300 Walther rifle dry firing to feel the trigger. It was feather-like. Peeking into the dot sight, my astigmatic eyes threatened to fool me. Not taking the risk of failing to redeem my poor handgun performance, I decided to shoot like I do with Nikons- both eyes open. 


The routine of  loading a bullet for every shot and pulling the bolt after every shot, ejecting the empty shell was almost ritualistic. I was getting comfortable firing a bull's eye after another. Then it hit me: the all to familiar back pain triggered by prolonged hyper extension of my lumbar spine has gave me the cue to finish my rounds and get upright for the much-needed back relief. I took my time, holding my breath each time I fired to the target 150 yards away.  Needless to say, I was vindicated of the impression I made earlier of being a poor shot.


We all had a great time firing. It was half past nine in and as the explosions from firearms slowly gave way to the sound of sweeping empty shells, the sound of grumbling in our stomachs grew to decibels that were unmistakable for tinnitus. It was time to go for grub!

A few minutes away was the golf club which was home to the finest stone grilled stake in the emirate (don't take a vegetarian's word for it, go try it yourself!) For those wondering what the vegetarian ate in a place known for it's steak, the glutton in me decided to have one whole vegetarian pizza all to myself.  That is were we spent the rest of the night. Or so we thought.

As we walked out with full stomachs the distant lights dotting the winding road up to Jabel Hafeet
caught our attention. We had our next destination! Our three-car convoy slightly stretched the city speed limits as we found our way to the mountain top. With temperatures at 35 degrees, and slight gush of desert night winds, it was still picture-perfect, despite the slight hint of dust in the air that would have been a little too obvious if the sun was up.

Our watches were about to change the dates when we decided to go home. Raynar had to report to his other half who still had work the next morning. The rest of the gang rode with Mark, who decided to go for coffee! We followed him to a Starbucks branch that would possible be open at such ungodly hours. We got there and proved ourselves wrong. The doors were locked for the night so we decided to go to another place a few hundred meters down the road.

Luckily, the guys decided to accommodate us and keep the shop open as long as we wanted. A few chats, The guys settled for raspberry-flavored shisha and I enjoyed nuts and an avocado shake. Time has passed fast and we had to decide where to spend the night since I was the only one hell-bent on going home to Adu Dhabi while the two other cars was to stay in Al Ain for the night.They decided to crash in Angel's (Mark's sister) flat. We got there and my, what a neat place she has. The lady knows her taste! French fries were made, ships were opened, bottles of San Mig Light were brought out. (of course, I get to have grape juice- just like communion.)

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It was time to go home (read: 3:00 am) We said out goodbyes and along with Geri, Daryll and April, we drove safely back home to Abu Dhabi. Ok, "safely" was an understatement since I got a picture- the one taken by speed cameras by the road? yeah, I got one on the way home. It was a little past five when we reached home. The sun was warming up, half of the city was still enjoying the pleasure of extra sleep on a weekend.

Trip expenses: gas: 50 AED. 50 rounds 9mm firing: 90 AED. 25 rounds .22 rifle: 35 AED food- pizza and iced tea: 48 AED. Speeding ticket: 300. Quality time with friends: priceless.