Went to the range yesterday.
It was the second day in a row that the daily high hit 105°F, which is just shy of Indianapolis's all-time* record of 106, set back in the summer of '54, and the fourth day in a row that the mercury climbed into the triple digits.
I need to do something to texture the grip of my M&P; my palms were so sweaty that that thing squirmed in my hands like an eel every time a shot broke. I don't know how much texturing you can do with a CTC Lasergrip, though... Maybe deck tape?
Given the fry-an-egg-on-the-sidewalk conditions, the range wasn't terribly crowded. I was pleased to note that, out of the eight hardcore paying customers who braved the blast furnace to put lead downrange while we were there, two were decidedly non-ofay and five of us were chicks. #People_Of_The_Gun.
This is what winning looks like: Taste the ash heap of history, Sarah Brady.
*For weather purposes, time began in Indianapolis in 1871. Prior to that, the land here was without form, and void; and darkness lay upon the face of the White River.