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  • #16
    Urban Rifle Hike 10-02-2010

    Sacramento to Rancho Cordova


    I decided to take advantage of the lull between the hot, and the soon to arrive stormy weather and go for a hike to the gun range today. I needed to prepare for hunting season, and the best way is to suit up and practice a little. You don't want your first day out in the field to be the testing ground for you and your gear, because it usually costs some dough to go on safari, and these days, that's a big concern. You could end up spending a hundred or two, and come home empty handed and with pulled muscles or who knows what other ailments. Before I went abalone diving for the first time each year, I always took a quick check out dive locally for the same reasons. So I put on my hiking boots, grabbed my 30.06 and 20 rounds in a waistband carrier, along with a bottle of water and a small amount of cash for range fees and emergencies. I slung the .06 across my back and headed out from home shortly after noon. My route was a little less than "as the crow flies" due to school zones, but I guessed the trip was 10 miles one way. The temperature was hot, but not unbearable, and the sun was beating down pretty good, but that's one of the hazards you may have to endure if you hunt in the warmer parts of the north state.

    I had to cross the freeway almost immediately and then headed for the straight line of Folsom blvd. Folsom was to be the straighest and longest leg of the tour. Traffic was pretty heavy actually, and it wasn't long before I found myself waiting to cross several lights, most on the freeway onramps.I had made it a little past Bradshaw road, and only about a half mile from home when I heard sirens and suddenly saw two different units in the oncoming side of traffic. I swear I thought they were headed elsewhere, because one looked like he was passing the other, but I found out that I was their call. Turns out there were several more behind me, but I am deaf in one side, and was concentrating on the two that were in my immediate front. Those two stopped and took up firing positions from their cars, one a handgun, and the other a rifle. Next, came orders being barked out from several people, both fore and aft. I couldn't tell you how many units were there at that point, but it was more than five, and from several agencies. They began giving me conflicting orders because they weren't at all in sync, but I yelled out that I have a hearing problem and told them that they were not being consistent. You know, one guy is yelling don't move, and another is yelling put your hands out away from your body, etc, etc.

    I ended up face down on Folsom Blvd on the hot pavement with probably a hundred cars stopped on both directions watching this. They cuffed me, and started drilling me with a few questions, to which I just answered that I was going to the gun range. they got me up and walked me to the car, put me in and then drove off the street to a business parking lot. There was some discussions to the effect they just needed to check me out and make sure that I was or wasn't something. So there I sat in the back of a unit with several others inspecting my gear, my rifle, my rounds, and a few other personal effects. Every so often one would come and tell me it wasn't going to take long. After a bit someone came and asked where I lived, home address, because I don't have that on anything I had with me. My license has a PO box, and they found that stashed in a side pocket of my little camera case. I don't care that they know where I live, so I gave them my street. They asked if the gun was registered to me at that address, and I doubt that really, having moved once since we bought that twenty years or more back.
    One smart ass cop, and I don't remember which one made an off handed comment as to my hearing loss as he shook my hearing protection in front of me. Something to the effect of "If he's deaf, he doesn't need these". I let that one go, because when your half deaf you get people making stupid comments from time to time, but anyone that shoots at a range, even a smart ass, is required to wear hearing protection, even if you're born with no ears. Them's the rules out there. So after a little time someone came and got me out and said that I was going to be freed, but also started questioning me about where I was going, and what I was doing. There was some rhetorical question about me testing them, to which I just told them I was actually testing myself. I reiterated that I was going to the range and gearing up for the season, to which another said the range is like 10 miles from here. He asked if I would like a ride there, to which I flatly refused (who wants a ride in the back of a patrol unit?), and I told them I was well aware of the distance and that exercise was part of the plan. I reminded whomever it was I was standing next to that I was told I was to be freed, and didn't like being lectured while wearing handcuffs. So I was released, and there was some further questioning of my judgement in a veiled sense. One cop said I should at least open the bolt on my rifle as I walked, but I mentioned I had ten miles alongside the road and I wasn't about to get dirt in there. Another pointed out that my route was to take me through a bad part of town, and I reminded him that I have lived in the bad part of town here for quite awhile. Actually, the part he was referring to is somewhat worse alright, but at least it's a busy street and there would be witnesses to call for ambulances or whatever. I was allowed to gather up my stuff, re-sling the rifle, and headed out with a few of them still shaking their heads as if they did not believe I was going to complete my hike. I headed back down Folsom Blvd at a little increase in speed, having lost a half hour or so with that episode. I saw quite a few units pass me from time to time for the next hour or more, but maybe they were keeping an eye on me for safety reasons.
    So that was the cop encounter for the tour, but that's also not the end of the discourse for the day. I'll catch you up on that tomorrow, because I still had nine miles of city slickers to go. Just to recap though, there were many units that ended up responding, CHP, County sheriff, and City police. I didn't get hurt or anything, but my good pair of glasses were scratched up pretty good while I was down on the pavement. I am a little more concerned than yesterday about the manner in which gun owners are percieved, and the loss of what I consider our better ways of life. Also, I did make the gun range, and it was more than ten miles. I think I'll be paying a price for that tomorrow though.

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    • #17
      OK, so after my detainment was over, and I gathered up my stuff, I asked the cops whether they were going to ticket me for jaywalking if I crossed the street to pick up my route again. One told me to go back to the crosswalk, but backtracking didn't seem efficient, so I headed east again without the protection of shade trees. After about a half mile I found another light to cross, and headed to the shadier side of the street. As I cross, and being half deaf I've learned the hard way that you have to look all around you because the normal sound warnings are not there, I had plenty of opportunity to look at everyone. Many, many people were astounded by the very sight of a slung rifle in public. You could also see them on cell phones, most likely dialing 911. I resumed my eastward direction and picked up the pace to make up lost time. The heat was becoming more apparent by now, and the trees started getting fewer in between. I passed a homeless looking chap with a pit bull on a leash, but he just smiled. Soon a car rolled up behind me and when I glanced back he was on the cell phone. After a bit he passed me at a good clip. Next I passed a light rail station with numerous people disembarking, Most were younger kids, and had the "what the hell" look on their faces. One guy said "that guys just walkin' around with a rifle". I passed a few more lights and crosswalks, at which many more people gawked, and several more got on their cells. Only got a couple of honks the whole trip, but amazement was probably the most common, with surprise next, and bafflement third. I'll bet the cops got a hundred calls after I left them. I made my way across the freeway again to head up Zinfandel drive and take it to White Rock. On the down side of the overpass I waited for a light, and a car with a mother and her probably eight year old son stopped for the light. The kid's mouth fell open and got all wide-eyed in surprise, and that soon got mom's attention, and they both soon smiled. That was probably the most positive response I had all day!
      I made my way up White Rock without any real problems and being a little less traffic, I saw less aghast people. As I passed a sign waver on the corner of White Rock and Sunrise, many people were staring at me from inside and outside of the Burger King on the corner. I guess those sign wavers do really get people's attention.
      By now, my shoulder is showing signs of wear from the sling, and I've slowed a little in pace. My one bottle of water is nearing the end, and it's still plenty hot. I was sweating profusely, and my upper shirt was half drenched. It was about here when I started questioning my ability to make the gun range, as my legs were tired, and i was developing some blisters on the feet. I pressed on, and only ran across a road construction crew alongside Sunrise Blvd. One hard hat guy smiled and waved. I could now see the gun range ahead and tried to pick up my pace after downing the last swig of water. The range is set back on Douglas, and I decided to take a shortcut through the open field as opposed to going all the way around. After about ten or so minutes of trudging through dried grass and weeds, I noticed I was suddenly amid broken skeet. A quick look around and I realized I was at the outer end of the shotgun range, and luckily nobody was using it. I tried a course deviation that would take me along the outer edges of the broken skeet pattern, and then walked up behind that part of the range. Somewhere along here a rangemaster met me and asked why I was on the range like that. I told him I had no idea that was the case until I saw the skeet, and also told him there was not fences or even a sign anywhere from that direction. He started telling me that I shouldn't walk on any fields out here because there was no public land, and that it was all private yada yadda..(not true either, as there is a huge regional park just up the street).
      So then he asked how I got there, and I told him I walked. Then he asked me a rhetorical question in regards to whether I walked with my rifle that way, and didn't the cops meet up with me. I mentioned that I had encountered the police, and that it was not particularly pleasant, but I made the trip anyway. Next, he asked why I was here. I told him I came to use the rifle range, to which he said that they might not let me shoot because I broke the rules and was on the skeet range. I reminded him I was not aware that I was entering the range, and reminded him again that there were no signs or fences, and also asked what happens if some kids get in there that way. As we walked towards the office he asked how was I getting back, and by now, I wasn't sure if I was able to walk, so I told him it depended on how I felt after I shoot. He once again made a comment about maybe I wasn't going to be able to use the range because of the manner in which I arrived. After a minute he said they were going to let me shoot, but handed me a one page document in relation to the rules, and demanded I read the entire thing first. No problem; and nothing on their about open carry, but you could tell that was an issue now. He asked if I had hearing protection, and I pointed to the counter where I had placed my equipment. He said he could rent me some if I didn't have any, and then made a point of telling me he could sell me a case for the rifle, and stood there with this condescending look waiting for me to answer that "with ok, let me see what you got." You could tell that this sort of public display is not something they care for, and certainly don't like. I was a bit taken aback by this flavor at a gun shop. I paid my range fees, bought another bottle of water and headed out. From here it was clear sailing with the exception of too much sweat getting in my eyes for the next 30 minutes or so, and in my tired and weakened condition, the steel buttplate on my rifle quickly took a toll on my shoulder. The light t-shirt was no help either. There was no 1 inch grouping today, but did manage to keep them all on the target and within acceptable game kill standards at 100 yards.
      I called for a ride home, and my wife came shortly after. The walk was over ten miles, and I'd place it closer to eleven with all the zig-zagging. I'm definately out of shape and requiring some rest today, but planning to make the trip again soon, although I am going to give the dispatchers a courtesy call next time

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      • #18
        Here is a copy of the records from the sheriff's log regarding my incident:

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        • #19
          Urban Rifle Hike II This Month

          I'm planning on hiking to the shooting range again this month,

          I'm hoping for a good weather weekend day towrds the middle of the month. Like last time, I am only planning a one way trip this time, so there will be arrangements to be picked up for the trip home.
          Rifle range fees are about 13.00 for the day, although it may seem like highway robbery these days, and especially so when you consider the short time you usually end up shooting. Consider it the price of freedom
          If you don't think you can make it the whole 11 miles, The tour begins near Bradshaw and hwy 50, goes down Folsom for several miles, so you can join me on a section, or have someone pick you up part way

          If you'd like to join in, feel free to contact me through the PM system here, or by email:

          [email protected]

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