
My Introduction to Clay Shooting
Looking back, it's hard to believe that shooting would become such a big part of my life.
I was 12 years old when I first pulled the trigger, having been introduced to the sport by my father. The reality is that shooting was a part of my life long before I ever picked up a shotgun myself. I grew up at shooting grounds, pressing buttons, carrying cartridges and accompanying my dad to his Police inter-service clay competitions. Yet despite being surrounded by shooting, I wasn’t exactly desperate to get involved.
In fact, I hated it.
At the time, I was completely horse mad and couldn’t understand my father’s endless attempts to convince me that guns were safer than horses. It wasn’t until years later – and one broken back after a riding accident – that I reluctantly admitted he may have had a point. What I remember most about those early days wasn’t the shooting itself. It was the nerves. I hated people watching me. I hated missing targets. Like many people, I wanted to be good immediately and I didn’t like the feeling of not getting something right first time. Looking back now, it’s a feeling I’ve seen in countless women who come to try shooting for the very first time.




















