For Americans, “going to the range” is an average Wednesday activity.
To pretty much anyone else in the world - unless you’re in a profession that works with guns - that statement will get: weird looks, people judging you, and a number of friends distancing themselves as they’d be afraid you could go loco and shoot them…
I think it’s income dependent. Going to a shooting range and just tearing through ammo sounds expensive, and I’ve never done it, but I’ve known generational-farmer types who do it on a regular basis. They usually bring friends with them. I don’t think most people in the south have been to a shooting range, but it doesn’t strike me as terribly uncommon.
I think it’s a lot like having a boat. If you know a guy who has a boat, you’re much more likely to go boating on the regular, and if you know a someone who has a lot of guns, you’re more likely to go shooting with them.
Yep, not a ton of ranges in the south. Probably 6 in the 200 mile radius of me. They’re not that profitable, because everyone has usually land or a friend with land.
Live in the north where southerners flee to for jobs (still a shitty Red state) and the range is a regular for gun people. When I had friends that shoot, it was an every or every other weekend thing for the cheap shit, once month take out something nice to shoot that costs a little.
as a european, i went to the range a lot as a kid, because my dad’s side of the family did game hunting back then and he wanted me to learn. this was exclusively with bolt-action long guns, because that’s everything they allow. the process of getting the rifles out of the safe, packing them in locked bags, going to safe ranges far away in the woods, marking every bullet fired on a form, and collecting all the cartridges bored me to tears.
later my dad got in a legal dispute with the police over firearms registration, because as a sporting goods salesman he had to make sure every part he sold had a laser-engraved serial number and it took months for them to finally get that you can’t laser-engrave a 2mm spring.
For Americans, “going to the range” is an average Wednesday activity.
To pretty much anyone else in the world - unless you’re in a profession that works with guns - that statement will get: weird looks, people judging you, and a number of friends distancing themselves as they’d be afraid you could go loco and shoot them…
I live in the south and I don’t know a single person who goes to a range ever. I think you are exaggerating.
I think it’s income dependent. Going to a shooting range and just tearing through ammo sounds expensive, and I’ve never done it, but I’ve known generational-farmer types who do it on a regular basis. They usually bring friends with them. I don’t think most people in the south have been to a shooting range, but it doesn’t strike me as terribly uncommon.
I think it’s a lot like having a boat. If you know a guy who has a boat, you’re much more likely to go boating on the regular, and if you know a someone who has a lot of guns, you’re more likely to go shooting with them.
I’d say the majority of people in the states don’t give a hoot about baseball, but it’s still ‘America’s pastime.’
>.>
Plus, being in the south, why would they go to a range? A friend within an hour probably has property where you could shoot for free.
Yep, not a ton of ranges in the south. Probably 6 in the 200 mile radius of me. They’re not that profitable, because everyone has usually land or a friend with land.
Yeah, we lived outside of town, so we just shot in the backyard.
Live in the north where southerners flee to for jobs (still a shitty Red state) and the range is a regular for gun people. When I had friends that shoot, it was an every or every other weekend thing for the cheap shit, once month take out something nice to shoot that costs a little.
as a european, i went to the range a lot as a kid, because my dad’s side of the family did game hunting back then and he wanted me to learn. this was exclusively with bolt-action long guns, because that’s everything they allow. the process of getting the rifles out of the safe, packing them in locked bags, going to safe ranges far away in the woods, marking every bullet fired on a form, and collecting all the cartridges bored me to tears.
later my dad got in a legal dispute with the police over firearms registration, because as a sporting goods salesman he had to make sure every part he sold had a laser-engraved serial number and it took months for them to finally get that you can’t laser-engrave a 2mm spring.
thank god for regulations.