For the better part of five years, I’ve been going to a shooting retreat in the foothills near Yosemite to improve my skills and have a bit of fun. These retreats or camps have themes and one overarching theme—proper club attire.
Each year (or time I go), the theme changes.
One year it was steel-target shooting, another was “Cowboy Action,” the next “turn-of-the-century gangsters.”
While some folks come and go, for the past three years, the same group of men (and a few women) has shown up. I usually go with two friends—fellow Gen Xers who, like me, came from lower-middle-class backgrounds and now hover in the middle to upper-middle class. We’re having fun, learning skills, and dressing up as the good, the bad, and the ugly. Can you tell which one I am?
The reason? This particular camp has a gentleman’s dress code.
You must wear a waistcoat, tie, and collared shirt or period-specific attire.
The other rule is that dress should match the era: cowboy for cowboy shooting, gangster for the early 1900s, revolutionary soldier for the War of Independence.
The point isn’t vanity—it’s mindset.
The clothes, the rituals, and the roles help you step outside daily life—to learn, compete, and, for one weekend, unburden yourself from the shackles of your “this-could-have-been-an-email” corporate existence fueled with way too much caffeine.
Across the Generations
What I find most rewarding is the banter across generations. At nearly every retreat, there are at least three—Gen X through Gen Z—and if you count the host’s family, sometimes five (Boomer through Gen Alpha). That kind of span is rare, yet the shared interest in history, firearms, movies, video games, and craftsmanship makes it work.
We talk about every kind of movie, the history of video games, and even politics. It reminds me of the old days when men gathered in parlors to debate the news and challenge each other’s ideas—something sorely missing in our culture today. That sense of civility and mutual respect keeps me coming back year after year.
Healthy Competition
Skill-building needs measurement. Since I only practice shooting once a year, my benchmark is how I perform against my fellow campers and how I improve over the weekend. The competition isn’t about winning (though some take it seriously) but about getting better together.
