![]() ![]() Sunday morning I rolled out of bed and headed back to the range. The occasional, "Whose rifle is this!" was a little embarrassing but all in the name of safety and not meant as a personal affront.īy the end of a scorching, humid, Alabama August Saturday, my muscles ached, my elbows were chewed up and I seriously questioned my sanity! But there was a phrase that kept being repeated, "A rifleman persists." I didn't really know at the time whether I wanted to be a rifleman or not but I did know I wanted to persist. The instructors were infinitely patient while still encouraging me to improve. When I attended that first Appleseed, my only goal was to learn to shoot a rifle.and hopefully hit a target smaller than the side of a barn! My body rebelled against the unfamiliar and uncomfortable shooting positions. The seed had been planted but like so many others, life got in the way. It was almost a full year after hearing Rusty speak that I attended that first event. It was Rusty's rifle that I would borrow and take those first fateful shots. There was only one familiar face, Rusty Bonkoski, the Alabama State Coordinator, Shoot Boss for the event and the one who introduced me to Project Appleseed in the first place. I worried that the guys would make fun of my lack of knowledge and experience. I had no clue what to expect, well, except that it would probably be mostly, if not all, men. This would be my first time ever firing a rifle. Everything about that weekend was outside my comfort zone. It was hot, August in Alabama hot! I was extremely nervous - no, terrified really. "The Journey to Rifleman: A Woman's Perspective" - by Terri "T.J. ![]()
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