I have been officially diagnosed with target panic. Like when the previous generation talks about someone with the cancer. The voice drops to a whisper like it’s contagious or a dirty secret. If you shoot long enough, you are going to run into this eventually. Or more than once if you’re allowed to admit it. “My name is Amanda and I have target panic.” The first step is admitting you have a problem.
There are lots of theories floating about as to the causes by so-called experts. Nobody really knows what it is or why it happens.
I forsee lots of blank baling in my future, which I actually find really relaxing. Plus, it’s nice enough to practice outside and light enough to stay out until about 8:00 now. And I have a lead on a long distance bale so I can get some practice in there.
For a good laugh, check out Uncle Ted’s dissertation on the subject matter at hand.
Amen and pass the arrows.