1. Introduction
It is said that a 10,000 mile journey begins with the first step; and the writing of a book begins with the first sentence. This journey has taken many years to get to this point.
I grew up shooting. I can remember trips to the range with my father and shooting with him. My dad was an avid shooter and competitor and an engineer by trade. He approached shooting with an eye for measurement and exactness. I can remember him practicing and dry firing at home, reloading ammunition in the basement, doing all the case prep, handloading and other things that go into precision shooting.
His interest in firearms went way beyond just ordinary shooting. He wanted to know things and went to great lengths to find out. Further, he networked with others and was able to gain much valuable knowledge through that interaction. He also published articles in various magazines of the time and shared his insights.
While I did not get into competitive shooting as a teen, I grew up shooting and those experiences helped shape my life. When I made my own life choices as an adult, shooting became a huge part of my life.
I began my study of the martial arts as a teen and it is a lifelong study. My martial arts background, training and the code of ethics I learned to embrace became one of the tenets I would base future training doctrine on.
In college, I went to school for wildlife biology and wildlife management, where I earned a Bachelor of Science degree. I came to appreciate the scientific method of examining things and, when I got deeper into shooting, I came to embrace science as a means of under- standing and explaining how we create performance. To this end, we have to look beyond the world of shooting and look at the different fields of science for answers and new perspectives.
I became a law enforcement officer in 1980. At that time, firearms training for law enforcement consisted of lots of slow-fire, accuracy- based training, with a sprinkling of point shooting, as well as other odds and ends designed to give us some familiarity with the handgun and shotgun. But, even then, fast and accurate shooting was valued and practiced. Fast draw practice and other skills were a staple when I entered the law enforcement community.
Around that time the sport of IPSC (International Practical Shooting Confederation) came into being, and my mentor—Sgt. Dalton Carr of the Moffat County Sheriff’s Dept.—introduced me to it. Dalton Carr was an interesting man who had a diverse background in law enforcement and gunfighting skills. He had been to Gunsite when it was under the direction of Jeff Cooper, and he brought that knowledge back to our department.
I became an assistant firearms instructor. Dalton helped me get started, and he mentored me through many of my early years when I was learning gunfighting skills and tactics. He also introduced me to the sport of IPSC, and he mentored me as a competitive shooter. I truly believe that good mentors are critical in the development of skill and knowledge.
Dalton believed in my abilities, and he taught me to believe in myself. He was one of my best friends, and we remained friends until his death. I still think he is looking down and smiling as he watches from afar.
Back in 1980, with Jeff Cooper at the helm, IPSC was geared around street-practical weapons and modes of carry. I could instantly see the benefits of this form of shooting compared to the training we did as law enforcement officers. I took to it like a duck to water, little knowing how it was going to transform my life in the near future. I discovered that I had a talent for it, and it also appealed to my competitive nature.
On August 10, 1982, I was involved in a life-changing accident while hiking in the backcountry of Colorado. I was a young deputy sheriff and had just lost my roommate—Jeff Dickerson, a fellow deputy sheriff—in a tragic car accident the week before. I decided to go for a hike at Rabbit Ears pass in Colorado. I was not climbing ath the time; rather, I was looking up at the ears and deciding what route I could take to get to the top.
It had been raining and there was a great deal of water and mud around. I tugged on a chunk of rock above me to see how stable it was, and it came out of the rock wall. I stepped back to dodge it, and slipped on some rain-wet gravel and mud and fell off a cliff. I was unconscious on the way down and I landed on a broken rock talus slope.
When I regained consciousness about 30 minutes later, I found my body was pretty well smashed. I will spare you the gory details, other than to say that I had multiple fractures to my skull, my right wrist, and my pelvis; I had numerous torn ligaments, as well as rips, tears, and severely traumatized parts of my body, all of which came from landing on a rocky talus slope. I’m guessing I had a pretty good concussion as well; but I do remember being fairly lucid once I regained consciousness and had a chance to “get my wits about me.”
It’s funny what you remember from your childhood that helps you in your adult life. Never underestimate the power of a compelling story about human performance.
While I was laying there smashed and broken, I remembered the story of the mountain man, Hugh Glass, who had been mauled by a grizzly bear and left for dead. I thought about how far he had to go to finally save himself, and I thought: “well, if he can drag himself 60 to 200 miles, surely I can get myself back to my truck and to a hospital.”
So, after a brief assessment of injuries and, knowing that I had severe internal and external injuries, I managed to crawl and drag myself up the cliff. Then, despite the overwhelming pain, I got up and walked for a mile or more—as best I could on a broken pelvis. I found some help to get to the hospital, who put me on a Life Flight to Denver, CO, to piece me back together.
I remember the silly doctor talking to my mother on the phone and telling her that I had a 50/50 chance of living due to the severe internal and external injuries I sustained. My mother would later recount how, on overhearing that, I uttered a very loud obscenity from my hospital bed.
I also remember the doctors in the hospital telling me that I stood a good chance of being permanently crippled from the pelvis injury. I’m sure that walking a mile or so on a broken pelvis probably didn’t help it much.
While lying in a hospital bed, I contemplated what I was going to do with the rest of my life. I promised myself that—if I could get my body recovered sufficiently without being a cripple—I was going to do two things: 1) Teach the good guys to win, and 2) Become a national or world champion in IPSC/USPSA.
Fast forward two years. Through many trials, over the course of a year and a half dealing with permanent injuries and finding ways around them, I was able to successfully find a “new normal” and go after those goals that I set myself during hospital and recovery time.
Throughout this period, my new goals kept me focused and motivated to succeed. I was determined to be the best I could be, learn all that I could, and both teach the good guys to win as well as see how far I could go as a competitive athlete in shooting. The rest, as they say, is history.
I tell this story to demonstrate how an accident was the catalyst to my career. It motivated me to excel, because I truly realized how fast life could be taken away, and I wanted to make my days count. Now, roughly 38 years and countless competitions and training days later, I am still doing what I love. I am still learning and still growing in knowledge, skill, and awareness.
Just for the record, I don’t recommend this career path to anyone! There are much gentler ways to find your true calling.
Through teaching the use of deadly force and high performance firearms training is my chosen profession, I have spent many years studying the different martial arts as well as studying the science and philosophies behind those systems. The study of the use of firearms as a martial art is not new, nor does it need to have a specific name.
I intended to write a classic that does not become outdated or obsolete, but continues to enlighten the reader with new insights as one becomes more skilled in the use of the handgun. To this end, I have tried to remove the mystery as well as shed the hype, myth, and just plain nonsense that surrounds this topic.
My goals in writing this book are: 1) To get you to think about your shooting; 2) To apply the principles of science and peak performance to your shooting; and 3) To become aware of things you may not have known before, or were applying incorrectly.
Although I have created a lot of doctrine and training methodology over the years, I have deliberately done my best to not put my name on any technique, method, or rule, with the exception of rules of performance, for which I ask your indulgence as I have been assigning them that way for many years.
This book is meant to be both a historical document as well as an active tool to shape the direction of your dreams, your goals, your shooting education, and your skill development. I will write—to the best of my recollection—historical facts of who did what, and how techniques and systems developed over time. I want to honor those people who were the true originators of modern shooting techniques, and from whom I learned so much.
Objectivity is the first step in true learning. You must learn to see things as they are, and try to stay free from internal and external bias. This can be very difficult to do, as belief systems, values, and ego will get in the way of truly seeing things for what they are.
The second step is staying humble and acknowledging that you probably don’t know as much as you think you do. You can always learn— or relearn—something in a new way, and find a new application for that learning.
Where possible, I have quantified this information in the form of physical laws, principles, and concepts that are based on the laws of nature and science. Gravity is gravity, friction is friction, and leverage is leverage, and so on. Force has both magnitude and direction. It can be applied at different angles to create more effective ways of control- ling or directing the handgun.
Similarly, the science of human performance allows us to achieve previously untapped levels of performance. We use these laws—as well as others—to assist us to control and shoot a handgun , and to control ourselves while doing so.
A science is the study of a particular discipline or subject of interest, as well as determining the laws and principles that govern it. I main- tain that the science of shooting is governed by these natural laws and principles. The laws of nature and physics remain unchanged. How we apply those laws and principles changes as we understand how to apply them in a better way to reach a higher level of skill or execution.
Principles are the foundation for every art, science or discipline. They are applications of the laws of nature, and will remain fundamentally unchanged throughout our lives. If you understand the operating principles that your techniques are based on, you will develop a more powerful understanding of how to apply them more efficiently and thereby increase your skills.
This is the reason that this book will never be “outdated.” These prin- ciples will never change over time; they will simply be better under- stood and better applied to achieve higher levels of performance. As you gain skill, knowledge, and perspective, you will find that this book will continually provide you with insights at a new level of understanding and awareness.
Art is the application of these laws and principles by an individual according to their understanding or preference. This is called “style.” Each person has their own style, based on how they understand and apply the principles; but we must all follow the same laws and principles.
Shooting is both an art and a science. It uses the laws of physics, motor learning and behavior, as well as human psychology. Defensive shooting, in addition to the above, utilizes the laws of armed conflicts learned over many years.
How these laws are interpreted and utilized is the art. Each individual has a style that is unique to them. However, we must all follow the same laws of nature and the principles that our discipline is based on. W.0e simply interpret them as best we can and try to improve our skills. As you gain in knowledge and understanding of these princi- ples, you learn to adapt them in a new way and you gain a corre- spondingly higher level of skill and mastery.
The handgun can be used for different missions. In this book I have prioritized the defensive role of the handgun. My teaching model is based on using the handgun in deadly force situations, under high stress, in high-speed situations, and in daylight or low light conditions.
I will never teach a technique whose primary use is not applicable to the arena of deadly force. First, it is not necessary to learn an overspe- cialized technique when other techniques are as good or better. Second, this can cause unintended problems when people try to use range-specific techniques in deadly force environments.
Keeping true to my definition of “Practical Shooting,”—designed for everyday use—I have also included the use of the handgun for competitive shooting, which I find has real value for those who pursue the defensive aspects of training, as well as hunting, survival, and just plain “shooting for fun.”
I have tried to write in a clear practical manner so that the reader can apply this information and see positive results if they devote them- selves sufficiently to the task. The journey is not easy, but it is indeed worthwhile.