I have been itching to burn some powder for quite sometime. When the email from http://www.monadire.com , a Georgian hunting/shooting forum, arrived, I for some unknown reason had it translated instead of binning it. It was an invite to participate in a sporting clays tournament. Did I jump at the chance? Ask me how fast and how high. The Mrs immediately emailed back and got the organiser's number who informed that I was most welcome to join in. I joined them that evening for a discussion in a local park. The organisers could not have been a nicer bunch of guys. The shoot was to be held on 30th June i.e. last Sunday.
Since it was going to be hot, we were to start early. Zurab picked me up from the same place in his brilliantly decked up Toyota at 07:30 on Sunday morn. While we were en route, Zurab tells me about his passion for firearms and hunting. If anything else, the way he adorned his Toyota is a testimony to his passion.
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I will not give out the number of guns he has.
We arrived at the range, just outside Tbilisi and near the popular Lisi Lake. Surrounded by hills and no residences nearby, one could see many setting up targets and having a go at them with their rifles all over the place, Of course, with great care to back-stop and safety.
By 08-00 most of the eager participants and cheerful spectators arrived and soon the stands and a drinks station were set up. All in all, there were fifty participants, with the ages ranging from 18 to 60+. The youngest spectator was about six years of age.
The guns were mostly Baikals, Stoegers and Turkish.But, that was not because they preferred them. Because they are the most affordable. There were a few upmarket guns too, a few Berettas, Brownings and a couple of Perazzis.
Soon, we were all made aware of the safety requirements, rules and regulations of the game and put our signatures on a paper to state our responsibility for our safety and actions. All guns were to be carried safe at all the time- semis with the bolt pulled back and displaying an empty chamber and the doubles with the action broke open. Cartridges were to be handed over one after one just before the shooter was ready.
You need to understand that this place was not a dedicated regular sporting clays layout. The organisers managed to get a regular trap and a jumping rabbit trap and a little power generator to work them. We were to shoot from five stations so that a varied target presentation was achieved. The first station was a right to left crosser with the shooter on the left end- five shots. The second was a combination presentation with the rabbit from the left and the crosser from the right- ten shots. The third was a crosser from left to right- five shots. The fourth was one that flew straight away from you- five shots. And the fifth was on that came straight at you and flew over your head to the left-five shots.
We went on to draw our numbers and as luck would have it, I drew number 2.
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Just as we were about to commence, an insouciant herd of cows descended upon the range and the volunteers rushed after them. I joked with my bystander that I did not know that we had "Driven Cows" on the agenda and if the number 9 shot was enough for them. The joke was lost.
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Soon the game was on.
Zurab in action with his Browning Cynergy. I mistook it for a Baikal until I took a close look. As an aside, I read from a knowledgeable source that the Baikal did provide a lot design inspiration for the Cynergy action. I am not sure of that but can only write of what I read. A very nicely built gun and looks much better than the much vilified earlier version.
![Image]()
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This gentleman, one of the organisers, having a go with his Perazzi MX-2000
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Guga, another organiser, with his Baikal O/U in action
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As the match went on, a lone horseman appeared on the horizon, silhouetted against the skyline.
![Image]()
Whoever said that shooting sports are not spectator oriented is wrong. The enthusiasm of the spectators and participants was unabated and remained high from the beginning to the end. Whenever a shooter did well in a particular round or a difficult shot was successful, there was always cheering and clapping and shouts of "bravo."
Spectators and participants keeping a keen eye on the game.
![Image]()
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Notice all the guns being carried safely. The bolt on this semi is pulled back displaying the empty chamber.
![Image]()
A Tula/ Toz SXS Hammer gun. Built well and built very strong. Only, it felt damn heavy and chunky in the hands.
![Image]()
The temperature soon hit 37oC and the windless dry heat began baking us. The only thing that kept us going is this thoughtful station of free mineral water and lemonade.
![Image]()
I used to spend the entire days in the cricket field impervious to the 45oC heat at home. On that day I realised how delicate I have become.
Tbilisi in the distance
![Image]()
However, I was not the only one who was feeling the heat. A few folks brought their bird dogs along, probably to get them used to gun shots.
This pooch having a focused go at a much appreciated drink of lemonade.
![Image]()
During the small breaks, one of the volunteers, a girl, wanted to have a go at the targets. You can imagine the good natured banter and the loud cheers that went up whenever the young lady busted a clay. She was a very good sport alright.
![Image]()
![Image]()
When the last round eventually came up, to set the target that came at you to fly over your head, an impromptu committee meeting commenced with everyone offering his opinion, the clay is too fast, too difficult, too easy etc.
![Image]()
Earnest debate going on
![Image]()
Soon, the opinions agreed and the match recommenced. This was the last station and everyone has been at it from the morning. Still the spirits were not dulled and some of these gents were still keen to have a good view of the clay. They were keen to practice their mount and swing behind the shooter. It made a slightly comic view from the distance and of course a lapse in the safety procedures. But, do not hold it too hard against them as you could still see the semi's bolt held back and the finger off the trigger on the O/U. Still not an advisable practice.
![Image]()
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This elderly gentleman had a stance of his own and a very low gun hold and yet shot brilliantly. He just blasted most of the clays dead centre.
![Image]()
When the scores came in, the first place had to be fought for through a tie breaker. Zurab and another young lad in his early twenties were to battle it out. They kept pulverising the rabbit target one after another and the tension among the spectators steadily rose. At one point, three cartridges misfired in Zurab's Cynergy and yet he manged to keep his nerves steady and so did the other lad who had a bit of an issue with his Fabarm semi. Finally, Zurab missed a target and the tournament came to a conclusion.
The winners
![Image]()
Everyone present congratulated the winners and handsome gift hampers were also presented along with trophies.
We were there from morning 0730 to evening 0630, almost 11 hours in the unrelenting heat, only with the drinks to keep us going. But the enthusiasm remained constant throughout the day and we were all uniformly glad that we took part in the event.
Now a few things about Georgian hospitality. Georgians are well known for their hospitality, which they take very seriously and with pride. This event was no different. When they found out that I was an Indian and that I wanted to participate, they went to great pains to be as hospitable as they can. Guga and Kakha, the organisers, wanted to arrange transportation for me as the place is off the beaten track and unknown to me. There were so many people offering me their guns to shoot in the tourney. I used a Beretta A400 Xplor semi. It was a very well built gun and shot brilliantly. If only I could shoot well.
![Image]()
When the prizes were being handed out, I heard my name called. Guga and Kakha pressed me to come forward despite my protestations and presented me a bag that had a nice knife and a wrist watch! They introduced me to the cheering gathering that I was a guest from India and that they were very pleased to have me. I was left speechless. There was little need for them as they did not need any publicity than what they already had. There were so many enthusiastic participants and they did not need one piddly foreign participant for publicity. They just wanted to be nice because they were nice people. It was one of those days when you are treated too well than you deserve and you come out feeling helpless that there is very little you could do to give something back. Another lesson in kindness.
Best-
Vikram
Since it was going to be hot, we were to start early. Zurab picked me up from the same place in his brilliantly decked up Toyota at 07:30 on Sunday morn. While we were en route, Zurab tells me about his passion for firearms and hunting. If anything else, the way he adorned his Toyota is a testimony to his passion.
I will not give out the number of guns he has.
We arrived at the range, just outside Tbilisi and near the popular Lisi Lake. Surrounded by hills and no residences nearby, one could see many setting up targets and having a go at them with their rifles all over the place, Of course, with great care to back-stop and safety.
By 08-00 most of the eager participants and cheerful spectators arrived and soon the stands and a drinks station were set up. All in all, there were fifty participants, with the ages ranging from 18 to 60+. The youngest spectator was about six years of age.
The guns were mostly Baikals, Stoegers and Turkish.But, that was not because they preferred them. Because they are the most affordable. There were a few upmarket guns too, a few Berettas, Brownings and a couple of Perazzis.
Soon, we were all made aware of the safety requirements, rules and regulations of the game and put our signatures on a paper to state our responsibility for our safety and actions. All guns were to be carried safe at all the time- semis with the bolt pulled back and displaying an empty chamber and the doubles with the action broke open. Cartridges were to be handed over one after one just before the shooter was ready.
You need to understand that this place was not a dedicated regular sporting clays layout. The organisers managed to get a regular trap and a jumping rabbit trap and a little power generator to work them. We were to shoot from five stations so that a varied target presentation was achieved. The first station was a right to left crosser with the shooter on the left end- five shots. The second was a combination presentation with the rabbit from the left and the crosser from the right- ten shots. The third was a crosser from left to right- five shots. The fourth was one that flew straight away from you- five shots. And the fifth was on that came straight at you and flew over your head to the left-five shots.
We went on to draw our numbers and as luck would have it, I drew number 2.
Just as we were about to commence, an insouciant herd of cows descended upon the range and the volunteers rushed after them. I joked with my bystander that I did not know that we had "Driven Cows" on the agenda and if the number 9 shot was enough for them. The joke was lost.
Soon the game was on.
Zurab in action with his Browning Cynergy. I mistook it for a Baikal until I took a close look. As an aside, I read from a knowledgeable source that the Baikal did provide a lot design inspiration for the Cynergy action. I am not sure of that but can only write of what I read. A very nicely built gun and looks much better than the much vilified earlier version.
This gentleman, one of the organisers, having a go with his Perazzi MX-2000
Guga, another organiser, with his Baikal O/U in action
As the match went on, a lone horseman appeared on the horizon, silhouetted against the skyline.
Whoever said that shooting sports are not spectator oriented is wrong. The enthusiasm of the spectators and participants was unabated and remained high from the beginning to the end. Whenever a shooter did well in a particular round or a difficult shot was successful, there was always cheering and clapping and shouts of "bravo."
Spectators and participants keeping a keen eye on the game.
Notice all the guns being carried safely. The bolt on this semi is pulled back displaying the empty chamber.
A Tula/ Toz SXS Hammer gun. Built well and built very strong. Only, it felt damn heavy and chunky in the hands.
The temperature soon hit 37oC and the windless dry heat began baking us. The only thing that kept us going is this thoughtful station of free mineral water and lemonade.
I used to spend the entire days in the cricket field impervious to the 45oC heat at home. On that day I realised how delicate I have become.
Tbilisi in the distance
However, I was not the only one who was feeling the heat. A few folks brought their bird dogs along, probably to get them used to gun shots.
This pooch having a focused go at a much appreciated drink of lemonade.
During the small breaks, one of the volunteers, a girl, wanted to have a go at the targets. You can imagine the good natured banter and the loud cheers that went up whenever the young lady busted a clay. She was a very good sport alright.
When the last round eventually came up, to set the target that came at you to fly over your head, an impromptu committee meeting commenced with everyone offering his opinion, the clay is too fast, too difficult, too easy etc.
Earnest debate going on
Soon, the opinions agreed and the match recommenced. This was the last station and everyone has been at it from the morning. Still the spirits were not dulled and some of these gents were still keen to have a good view of the clay. They were keen to practice their mount and swing behind the shooter. It made a slightly comic view from the distance and of course a lapse in the safety procedures. But, do not hold it too hard against them as you could still see the semi's bolt held back and the finger off the trigger on the O/U. Still not an advisable practice.
This elderly gentleman had a stance of his own and a very low gun hold and yet shot brilliantly. He just blasted most of the clays dead centre.
When the scores came in, the first place had to be fought for through a tie breaker. Zurab and another young lad in his early twenties were to battle it out. They kept pulverising the rabbit target one after another and the tension among the spectators steadily rose. At one point, three cartridges misfired in Zurab's Cynergy and yet he manged to keep his nerves steady and so did the other lad who had a bit of an issue with his Fabarm semi. Finally, Zurab missed a target and the tournament came to a conclusion.
The winners
Everyone present congratulated the winners and handsome gift hampers were also presented along with trophies.
We were there from morning 0730 to evening 0630, almost 11 hours in the unrelenting heat, only with the drinks to keep us going. But the enthusiasm remained constant throughout the day and we were all uniformly glad that we took part in the event.
Now a few things about Georgian hospitality. Georgians are well known for their hospitality, which they take very seriously and with pride. This event was no different. When they found out that I was an Indian and that I wanted to participate, they went to great pains to be as hospitable as they can. Guga and Kakha, the organisers, wanted to arrange transportation for me as the place is off the beaten track and unknown to me. There were so many people offering me their guns to shoot in the tourney. I used a Beretta A400 Xplor semi. It was a very well built gun and shot brilliantly. If only I could shoot well.
When the prizes were being handed out, I heard my name called. Guga and Kakha pressed me to come forward despite my protestations and presented me a bag that had a nice knife and a wrist watch! They introduced me to the cheering gathering that I was a guest from India and that they were very pleased to have me. I was left speechless. There was little need for them as they did not need any publicity than what they already had. There were so many enthusiastic participants and they did not need one piddly foreign participant for publicity. They just wanted to be nice because they were nice people. It was one of those days when you are treated too well than you deserve and you come out feeling helpless that there is very little you could do to give something back. Another lesson in kindness.
Best-
Vikram
