It's time for the sporting clays wrap-up post. Which can be pretty much summed it up in three words:

Wet.

(Just say it three times.)

We started the sporting clays shoot under leaden skies; I finished it with pants so heavy from water (I foolishly wore work jeans) that I had to tighten my belt to keep the damn things from falling off.



Of course, no outdoor pursuit should be entirely comfortable - it should never be like strolling through a climate-controlled mall looking at uncomfortable shoes in the windows - but in this case, I didn't need ugly weather to cause discomfort.

My shooting offered plenty of that (or rather, the missing),

He Shoots... He.... Misses!
With the vertically enhanced Chris Raine pretty much folded up into the front seat of the Subaru Legacy sedan (he's big, it's not), we rolled up to the shooting site at 7:45.

Sure, the skies looked ominous, but according to Weather Nerd Scott, it looked like we'd enjoy the protection of a big hole in the rainy stuff which was already pounding the canyon.

About one hour later, I became very aware he was wrong.

As I stood in the field and felt my pants absorb water by the pound, the limitations of weather prediction technology in an uncertain world became very, very clear.

Those who don't wear eyeglasses will never understand The Curse of Rain in Sports Where Visual Acuity Is Critical
(when it's raining, it's damned hard to see).

Still, I'd already felt the sting of unmet expectation; the rain was bad, but the 10-20 mph winds (gusting to 30 mph) weren't helping (anybody).

Yet, try as hard as I could, there was no way to blame the misses (especially the easy misses) on the weather.

Turns out shooting tiny, fast-moving disks is a lot like proper fly casting; if you're putting a lot of effort into it, you're probably doing it wrong.

Focus is needed, as is a kind of zennish inner stillness, which I simply didn't have - and couldn't gain once the winds and the rain piled on.

Oddly - just like learning to cast a fly rod - it's hugely frustrating and big fun at the same time.

In the end, I shot a 52 (from 100 birds); nine less than last year's 61. Chris Raine shot a 72 (down from last year's 86). The other shooters took a similar hit.

Alert Underground Reader Mark
foolishly bravely showed up despite the forecast (that's him in the picture at the top of the post), and he also posted a 52.

Older Bro posted a 47 (four less than last year), and this despite losing a couple birds to a borrowed shotgun "featuring" an automatic safety that engaged every time the over/under was broken open (note to self: never invest in technology designed to do your thinking for you).

Every fly fisherman reading this will understand what's said next: I stalked away from some of the shooting stations white knuckling the shotgun while simultaneously laughing and calculating what I'll do next time.

In other words, it's possible to get all cranky about the immediate result, yet you can't wait to do it all again (I don't golf, but hear this from golfers all the time).

Back To Fly Fishing
The weather on the Upper Sacramento has varied widely; everything from warm, sunny days to freezing temperatures and rain (snow down to 4,000' was part of one forecast for the next couple days).

In other words, it's Fall in the mountains, which means the trout may or may not be on the October Caddis in a big way, the BWOs may or may not be hatching in a big way, and other fly fishermen may or may not be standing in your favorite water when you arrive.

Since my stint as Mr. Single Parent ends tonight, I plan to be on the water this week, and this time I won't be armed.

See you on the river, Tom Chandler