We all walked the 15 yards to the target, and the IPSC members tallied Todd’s points. As soon as the bullet holes were counted, they were covered with brown tape squares.
“This looks like a lot of fun”. I said to my wife. She nodded agreement.
Unlike during our concealed carry class, and other trips to the range, at the IPSC competition everyone followed all of the rules, all of the time. The pistol waving maniacs at our concealed carry class would have been sent packing in minutes.
The sense of unease that I sometimes felt at the range, the twisting of the gut, followed by a fogging of my safety glasses as I contemplated my demise at the hands of some armed fool was gone while at the IPSC competition. Here was shooting and firearms discipline that was responsible and respectful, a breath of fresh air after watching self taught yahoos wave loaded firearms at every corner of the room.
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