Daughters & I drove up to Birchwood Range this morning, just before sunrise ... meaning a half-hour to 45 minutes before the sun would actually be visible from behind the mountains to the east.
That range was cold. There was hoarfrost on the ground about 3/8" thick, and my fingers were numb almost immediately. Warming them back up in my pockets did the trick, though, and by then my Alaskan metabolism was cranking, so they never got that cold again.
One minor injury to report: the caps on my scope's adjustment knobs were tight; needed to use pliers ... gently, gently ... to loosen them. The first one came off without a hitch, but the second one was a bit tighter. I managed to pinch the ball of my thumb in the pliers, and removed a chunk of skin.
It was so cold that I didn't feel it at first, but did notice some small spots of blood transfer on my first two fingers, and then on the scope cover. See? That cold air does provide some help for things ... like slowing blood loss.
I blotted the area while Mel opened a bandaid for me, and then we got on with the fun.
Mel's new .30-06 is a joy to shoot, and feels much like my .270 in terms of handling and recoil. No surprise there, I know.
The owner's manual claimed the scope was bore-sighted at the factory, but I don't believe it. It shot 4.5 inches low and two inches to the left, at 100 yrds. Mel's not a novice shooter anymore (just new to this rifle) so she adjusted things properly. By the end, she was shooting 1.25" groups at 50 yards.
Mine needed to be raised just a bit. The last time out, it was shooting more-or-less dead on 100 yards, so I raised it 5 clicks to be on at 200.
Due to the cold, Sam packed it in first, and got back in the car. By that time, my 1+" groups had opened up to 2+", so I decided we would call it a day. In another month, we'll be used to these temps, but the first time is always a bit of a struggle.
It makes me so proud to go to the range with my two daughters on the line beside me. You other dads out there will know what I mean.