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The Early Days of IPSC


Patrick Sweeney

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Heck, one of my regular shooting partners has a 5,000 USPSA number. He's still pretty flaming fast too.

I get to hear about the good old days every match we go to. biggrin.gif

tomB

Well my uspsa was and is #A4616 and after a 22 year hiatus I got to start shooting it all over again. Proved that was my number from some old major match scores as they didnt save much before the computer age came along. Best part of it is I'm still shooting my ol'frankenstein 1911 .45 and now they even have a class for us guys called single stack.

I did get a few laughs about my gear but then it turned to "whose this guy shooting all the A's?" I just told them muscle memory!

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  • 4 weeks later...
  • 1 month later...

...Paul Weaver (the only guy I ever met who owned more guns than I did)...

More than Richard Davis????

Now Richard had so many guns that my buddies and I would take a couple home with us after Second Chance. My favorite "glory days" of shooting spent there!

When I won the BCBC I picked a Bennelli M1 and Richard freaked out that I didnt take the S&W Second Chance Commemorative...I told him "the only folks in Youngstown that have gold plated triggers are pimps!"

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OK, 'nother tale from the old days. Although this one isn't as old as the others. First, some background: at Second Chance, we used to have "Free for All Wednesdays." Wednesday evening the back range would be closed, we'd retire to the top of the hill in back of the range, and fire tracers into the darkness.

After a few years, the volume of fire (guys would spend all year cruising the gun shows, looking for tracer ammo. I know one guy who bought a Mauser just to shoot the tracer 8mm he had scored at one show.) got to be pretty intense. Then the belt-feds showed up. We'd have belt-fed M-60s, MAG-58, and finally, an M2HB! Richard started to get a bit annoyed that some of the downrange equipment was taking hits.

But the stopper came when someone showed up with an H-K M-21. A belt-fed G3 derivative, a lightweight, hard-kicking, belt-fed .308. Well, they're having fun shooting it (from the shoulder, at the backstop 300 yards away) and after a belt one of them puts it down, and because the barrel it hot, he takes the barrel out .(removable barrel, inside the shroud) One of the other H-K crew picks it up, and not noticing the lack of a barrel (it was dark, he'd had a drink or two....) loads a belt and fires it. The tracer goes bloop-blooop-bloop out the shroud, and burning merrily, drops into the dry grass. Chaos ensues.

Trying to get several dozen shooters, all wrapped in their own world of shootign tracers, to stop, and keep the guys waiting to shoot from firing, so we could put out the grass fire, was real work.

After that, Richard changed it to "Propane Wednesdays" which is another story.

Hell I was there and I shot that Ma Duce for like a buck a round or something wonderful like that.

I will never forget that HK 21 misfire (?) grassfire, yes caos, whatever it was.

While at a gunshow this winter some guy was selling a parts kit for a HK 21 and when my son asked me what that gun was I told him that same story! Moral, dont shoot it without a barrel.

Yes then came the Nuclear Blast Simulator

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Some news, and an update, one of the names I've used in this thread, Bruce Britt, died recently. Cancer. What I hadn't known was what he had done before he was one of the world's nicest guys in practical shooting: 82nd airborne, in Vietnam.

Bronze Star, Air Medal, Vietnam Service Medal with three bronze devices (3!) two tours, and no Purple heart.

So, there we were, at Second Chance near the end, and we're sitting in the night air. The match fireworks were over, and people were launching their own fireworks.

In the night, we hear a low, dull, "thwoomp" Bruce says "parachute flare, it came from that way, just this side of the treeline." he looks up and says "can you hear the whistle?" It's right there." And as he says this we hear a slight 'pop' and then a few seconds later the flare lights.

"And the tube will land over there." He says, pointing into the night. Tube? Yep. you see, that flare is launched as a unit, and the tube, once it reaches its apex, uses a small charge to throw the flare out and ignite it. The tube then falls to the ground.

"We have to go talk to them" Bruce says, and gets up. We walk over towards the sound, and another flare or two go up as we cover the distance. Bruce recognizes the sound and direction each time, even when the rest of us are uncertain. When we get there, in no uncertain terms, we explain you can't be raining empty tubes down on people or cars. Knock it off, now.

Knowledge gained from a very special school, and that the rest of us had no clue existed, or that Bruce knew.

ummmm, were these jokers by a Dodge motorhome? :unsure:

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  • 3 weeks later...

While I doubt I can top Patrick's stories, I'll offer a few of my own.

This must have been '89 or '90, but the transition from .45 to 38 Super was still underway for many folks. A buddy of mine had recently received his new single-stack 38 Super which was build identical to his 45 comp gun. While excited to play with this "new" technology, he was still skeptical if the Super really gave you an advantage, other than the +2 rounds in the mag. So, during a local match he decided to enter twice. He'd shoot his Super for the first run, then switch to his .45 for the second run, and then compare the time for each run. Not exactly the most scientific, but he was interested nonetheless.

He's on the final stage of the match and had just finished his first run with the Super. He's convinced that the Super's recoil is more manageable and can see that he'll soon be retiring his .45. But, he has one last run to make. He steps to the line, with .45 in holster, and the RO tells him to load and make ready. He pulls his gun from his holster, inserts a magazine and racks the slide. And with everyone watching, the most peculiar things happens. An entire loaded cartridge launches out of the front of the barrel and tumbles to the ground in front of him. He, and everyone else, are looking at this phenomenon in amazement. Then it dawns on him, he swapped out his pistols, but not the magazines. He put a Super magazine into his .45 and yes, those little rounds will fit completely down the barrel of a .45. We all laughed pretty hard at that one.

Grunt

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I was at the Coors-Springfield Armory Challenge in Durango, Colorado, I think in 1989, maybe '90. The top 16 shoot-off was underway and two of Colorado's best were pitting against each other; Eddie Rhodes and Charlie Putman. Charlie was shooting a single-stack 1911 in 38 Super and wore a Safariland 008 holster. This was as good as it got back then. Eddie, on the other hand, was shooting an single-stack .45, no-comp, and an old Davis holster that he wore behind his hip. Charlie had also started shooting isosceles, and Eddie was still using that classic Weaver technique. Eddie was literally old-school before old-school came into fashion. At times, folks liked to poke fun at him, not because he refused to upgrade, but because he was still DAMN good inspite of that. Anyway, they both step to the line to shoot. Eddie takes the first one, then Charlie takes the next. In the final round, Eddie wins and everyone is applauding this old-school guy. As they are walking off the line, Eddie turns to Charlie, and in a very audible voice says, "…and don't ever make fun of my holster again." He had a great sense of humor.

RIP Eddie.

Grunt

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I shot a match in South Africa once, many moons ago. It was a championship match and a lot of countries were represented. A couple of British shooters had finished for the day when two South African police officers approached them and asked a few questions about the match. (They had heard about it and figured they'd stop by to check it out.) The brits explain the basics of IPSC and the four chatted for a while. Somewhere in the conversation the idea of "ride-along" was proposed, where the Brits would ride along with the the two cops that night during their patrol. The brits think, "sure, that'd be interesting." Then the cops advise them to bring along their street guns (as opposed to their comp guns.) The brits hesitate for a second with a "huh?" look on their faces, but then think nothing of it and agree. "Probably just a precaution," they say.

Now, this was early 1990's and Apartheid was still in the throws of its demise. Joberg was still a very dangerous city (that remains to this day) and this was illustrated by the high walls, with barbed wire on top which surrounded many residences. So, these two brits show up at the police station that night with their pistols concealed in IWB holsters. The police welcome them and the four take off in the squad car. As they tour the city the brits begin to see the underbelly of the city (where else would police patrol?) They are a couple hours into it when the police radio begins squawking. The one officer answers it, speaking in Afrikaans. The brits don't speak the language, but they can tell the dialog between the cop and the dispatch is getting more tense. Then the cop begins talking to to the other cop, again in a very serious tone. Finally, the driver flicks on the lights and sirens, steps on the gas, and the car speeds through traffic. The brits are completely in shock when the one cop turns around and explains the situation. "OK, we're going to a call. Its a bit serious. Just remember one thing. If you have to shoot anyone.......don't worry about it." Both brits lean forward, draw their pistols, chamber a round, and re-holster. They exchange WTF glances at each other.

In the end, the brits stayed in the car and nothing horrible happened. But man, what a great story that made at the range the next day. It always ended with, "Remember, if a South African police officer asks if you want to go on a ride along, just say no."

Grunt

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It was 1992 and I was at the Area 1 championship. By then, Matt McLearn and and I were hanging out a good bit at matches. We grabbed breakfast prior to the match one morning, along with Bruce Gray, and Ross Dean (remember Doctor Dot?). We all had fun that morning picking on Matt who was, at the time, Sponsored by Nowlin. He was sporting a fancy uniform with logos and stripes. It was quite nice, but we had to razz him a bit. The banter settled down once our orders arrived and we started to eat. And then, out of no where, I hear Matt say in an angry tone, "You've got to be kidding me!" I look over to see that he and his uniform is covered with oatmeal. I notice right away that the "shot group" pattern of the hot cereal has some vertical stringing to it (such observations are a hazard of the sport). I then glance across the table and there's Bruce with a sh*t eating grin on his face. He's holding a spoon in his right hand, with his left index finger in a position as if he had just flung hot, wet, rolled oats in the direction of Matt. Immediately, a nervous laughter erupted at the table. Matt begins to verbally accost Bruce, who's only excuse was, "I don't know why but I just wanted to flick oatmeal at you." Matt was incensed, explaining that his uniform is now unfit for wear. Needless to say, the mood for the rest of the meal was a bit tense. But, Matt wasn't going to allow Bruce to get away with this. The scheming began.

A few days later, Matt emerged victoriously at the Area 1 (that was a good year for him.) We're all at the awards banquet listening to the announcements and watching the prizes be awarded. Everyone is having fun. Then, Matt walks up to the announcer and hands him a note. The announcer reads it and then says, "Is this for real?" Matt nods that it is. The announcer then says, "Ladies and Gentleman, I've just received word that Bruce Gray has learned that his girlfriend is expecting a baby and they have set a date for marriage next month." It was fun watching Bruce *literally* chase Matt around the banquet room.

Grunt

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I was at the Coors-Springfield Armory Challenge in Durango, Colorado, I think in 1989, maybe '90. The top 16 shoot-off was underway and two of Colorado's best were pitting against each other; Eddie Rhodes and Charlie Putman. Charlie was shooting a single-stack 1911 in 38 Super and wore a Safariland 008 holster. This was as good as it got back then. Eddie, on the other hand, was shooting an single-stack .45, no-comp, and an old Davis holster that he wore behind his hip. Charlie had also started shooting isosceles, and Eddie was still using that classic Weaver technique. Eddie was literally old-school before old-school came into fashion. At times, folks liked to poke fun at him, not because he refused to upgrade, but because he was still DAMN good inspite of that. Anyway, they both step to the line to shoot. Eddie takes the first one, then Charlie takes the next. In the final round, Eddie wins and everyone is applauding this old-school guy. As they are walking off the line, Eddie turns to Charlie, and in a very audible voice says, "…and don't ever make fun of my holster again." He had a great sense of humor.

RIP Eddie.

Grunt

Both Eddie and Charlie are some of my favorite people!

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  • 4 weeks later...

OK, however many pages back it was, where I described my epiphany, stepeing away from .30, to embrace dinky black rifles? That's where I got my butt handed to me, usign my M1 Garand, by a club member shooting his unversal M1 Carbine.

Second Chance story opp here....My shooting bud and good friend Joe wants to shoot the Rifle match one year at Second Chance. The only rifle he has is a M1 Garand. Ok so he's not going to be competitive but he's gonna shoot right? He starts off pretty good, hitting those pin plates and just burying them into the ground. Everyone's .223's just knock the plates over but his '06 is just slamming those plates down! Next thing we know theres a grass fire behind the plates and they have to call a ceasefire so the timer kids could go out there and stomp the grass out. We teased him relentlessly about damaging the range, etc.....

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Not like the Viking Spear episode. On the back range, on the BCBC (the shotgun slug event) you had to master a strange skillset: you had to mow down falling steel plates out to 90 yards with slugs. Ten plates. Then run to the over-under shotgun, launch the two clay birds and blast them (bonus time off your run) and then run to the table where your handgun was waiting. There, you had a dummy grenade you tossed into the port for more time off. Finally, pick up your handgun and shoot the last falling pins and stop plate.

Don't remember the spear, might have been after my 15 minutes of fame by winning the BCBC. That was my last year of going there and I had heard they changed the match after I almost beat it. <bragging> I had shot it several times but kept doing one thing wrong, missing the bird, missing with the grenade, missing a tank target, etc.. Then finally nailed it and almost beat the clock altogether with an under one second time. Hey the timer girls where pretty excited about it! Probably glad to see me and my short shorts finally leave the back range. Remember reading Ayoobs write up about the match and all he said was "bonuses are nice"

I do remember Big Al's scrap book, railroad tracks too and the pic of the gal who used like six steak knifes to commit suicide, she tried to stab herself in the heart and those cheap steak knifes kept bending off her breast bone! Finally she managed to get one in between the ribs. (the stories were better than the pics)

The PEE event was great fun and just as I was getting close to the top ten I ran out of money and gave up. I liked the slower firing rate guns, you could pretty much count those bursts.

I had always heard those propane explosions were NATO nuclear blast simulators!

Always camped there, some friends had rented nearby cabins, compete all day, party most of the night, free food and BEER at night, all week. Great memories and recently uncovered a couple hundred pin loads, my label reads 6.1grns of 231 with Speer 200grn jacketed hollow points. They did the job if I was doing mine.

I remember the black plastic water tower shower so the campers could bathe. So early June up there the water in it was 40 degrees? One day Ken Tapp see's me going in with towel and shower kit and tells me he coming back at night with a couple blocks of ice to put in there.

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  • 8 months later...

Honest, I showed up at my first match in 1979 with a S&W Model 10 HB .38 Special in a WWII web holster for a Canadian Hi-Power with a flap. The RO made me reclose the tab before moving.

Next match, I was sporting a WWII Colt Gov Model .45 in a Chapman Hi-Ride (cross-draw). Still have it! And the Colt.

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  • 2 months later...

We (Tri County Gun Club, Polo, IL) started shooting IPSC in 1979.

The days of Colt 1911's, Win 231 powder, lead 200 gr bullets (most

of us cast our own) and 18 1/2 # recoil springs. I bet our Lead

levels were in the 50's and no one checked them back then. Great

memories of leather gear and cross draw leather holsters.......................

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Here are some 80's shorts! LOL

I think this was the 86' AZ state champs. in Douglas AZ. I am the big, tall, dumb kid in the back, I must have been 16 or 17 in that pic. I got this image from Ian Martin, he is standing in front of me. Sure was fun growing up in Phoenix, shooting at Rio and chasing Rob and Brian every week!

Gone are the days ...

:-D

youngog.jpg

I showed Tim this yesterday.

He got a good laugh out of that picture. He did say he thought it was closer to 1990, as he wouldn't have been in Az in 86.

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Anyone remember the start position that some used of looking down at the pistol? After seeing it I had to try it for awhile. But I found that it really didn't work all that well for me as it took longer to get the sights on the first target. So I went back to looking at the target that I was going to engage first.

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Anyone remember the start position that some used of looking down at the pistol? After seeing it I had to try it for awhile. But I found that it really didn't work all that well for me as it took longer to get the sights on the first target. So I went back to looking at the target that I was going to engage first.

Heck I remember and Bill S had a hard time breaking that habit...When Adam followed Dad's lead, I asked Bill if i could "take over"

as Adam's instructor.

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Here are some 80's shorts! LOL

I think this was the 86' AZ state champs. in Douglas AZ. I am the big, tall, dumb kid in the back, I must have been 16 or 17 in that pic. I got this image from Ian Martin, he is standing in front of me. Sure was fun growing up in Phoenix, shooting at Rio and chasing Rob and Brian every week!

Gone are the days ...

:-D

youngog.jpg

I showed Tim this yesterday.

He got a good laugh out of that picture. He did say he thought it was closer to 1990, as he wouldn't have been in Az in 86.

Can't be '90 no way I was 20 in that pic, maybe '87 but no later than '88. I have the wood in a box some place, I will dig it out.

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Anyone remember the start position that some used of looking down at the pistol? After seeing it I had to try it for awhile. But I found that it really didn't work all that well for me as it took longer to get the sights on the first target. So I went back to looking at the target that I was going to engage first.

In the early days lots of things were tried as everyone was learning. With a cross draw holster just left of your belt buckle you could look right at grip safety especially from the surrender position. Some folks hit the grip safety so hard you could hear the ping from the parking lot, of course it took awhile to recover from that and get the pistol moving towards the target. You learn more from your mistakes than your successes it seems.

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I still have an old Rogers Plaxco World Speed Model that I used for awhile. Most who were using it used it cross draw, but after trying it that way for a time I ended up using it strong side then went to a Davis that I now use for single stack. There seems to be a lot of old holsters from the 80's in my bin of old stuff.

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