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TRINITY — His boots settled deep in the stirrups, the veteran gunslinger slowly leads his quarter horse into the ring. He surveys the array of red and white targets strategically placed in a pattern before them.

A piercing volley of gunfire erupts, slicing through the thick humidity and the thin clouds of dust stirred up behind Dandy's thundering hooves as the rider empties one pistol, then the other. Ten shots taken, 10 targets eliminated. It's over in 15 seconds.

As the dust begins to settle over Breezy Hill Farm in Trinity, Mike Lewallen is among a dozen friends and family members refining their horsemanship and shooting skills during an informal practice.

"Cowboy mounted shooting has become our second family," says Lewallen, whose wife, daughter and son all compete.

Lewallen, aka "Maverick," is president and co-founder of the Carolina Outlaws, a mounted shooting club he formed late last fall with his friend and fellow rider, Michael "Law Dog" Potter. The club is governed by the Cowboy Mounted Shooting Association.

Lewallen, 39, describes cowboy mounted shooting -- billed as the fastest growing equestrian sport in the nation -- as a form of barrel racing with guns and balloons.

Adult competitors use a pair of .45-caliber single-action Long Colt pistols, each loaded with five certified black powder cartridges -- blanks -- to shoot 10 balloons while negotiating a selected pattern (there are 62 in all) during a timed run on horseback. Each missed balloon, knocked-over barrel or dropped gun results in a five-second penalty, which can reduce a good run to a disaster.

It's like something out of an old Western or the Wild West shows popularized by Annie Oakley and Buffalo Bill Cody.

But Lewallen is no real, live outlaw. He's a kind-hearted family man who tapes up the spurs of his boots to insure Dandy's skin is not penetrated during an intense run.

Lewallen is quick to credit the club's members and volunteers who, logistically, help make things happen around the farm, especially during home competitions -- "shoot-outs," as they are known to insiders.

Worldwide, the Cowboy Mounted Shooting Association consists of 98 active clubs in four countries with more than 8,800 members. North Carolina is home to three clubs with about 161 members, according to the association.

Membership continues to grow by the day even in the down economy, says Brady Carr, the group's executive vice president.

Carr attributes the growth to the excitement and unconventional aspects of the sport, a family atmosphere, and a classification system of varying ages and skill levels designed to provide fair competitions.

Eight-year-old Kayla Lewallen, better known as "Cornbread," confidently handles her brother's pair of Ruger stainless-steel .45-caliber revolvers almost like a pro during a recent shoot-out.

Under the watchful eyes of her father -- less than an arm's length away -- she cocks the trigger with her right thumb, carefully takes aim, and in a spray of hot embers, nails all 10 of the red balloon targets one by one.

Cornbread's not yet shooting from horseback but is very competitive as the No. 1 rider in the Wrangler Limited division and No. 3 overall for the Wrangler class with her pony, Peaches.

Not to be outdone, her 12-year-old brother, Trevor "Stitch" Lewallen, is No. 2 in the world as a mounted shooter in the Wrangler Open division. He is North Carolina's first and only CMSA world champion, earning the distinction as the 2007 World High Points Champion for the Wrangler Limited division.

"It's addictive," says mom Sabrina Lewallen, who cherishes the family atmosphere and competition among friends. "I like to call cowboy mounted shooting 'cowboy crack' because it's the most fun you'll ever have on horseback."

The 38-year-old sales rep, in her third year of mounted shooting, is affectionately nicknamed "Barbie Cowgirl" for her long, blond hair and custom leather holster rig sporting plenty of bling.

On the back of the holster rig, surrounding her elegantly embossed name, are more than 50 light-blue crystals, complete with two small horseshoes and two flowers decorated with jewels.

A girl once spotted Lewallen walking through a pasture in a bright yellow top, sparkling chinks (a type of chaps) and a matching belt. The girl begged her mother to stop to let her see the "Barbie Cowgirl."

In the beginning, Sabrina Lewallen was just a spectator.

"A gentleman made the mistake of calling my wife a ... cowboy mounted shooting groupie because she always went around but she didn't ride and compete," Mike Lewallen says.

That was all it took. The next thing he knew, she was on a horse shooting, and it was costing him double the entry fees and double everything else.

"Barbie Cowgirl" never looked back. She is classified as a Ladies Level 3 with one win and is ranked No. 1 for all the ladies' classes in the state and the Mid-Atlantic region.

For Sam Helms, this is not just a hobby. Helms, 36, and his family travel from their horse farm in Monroe to join the fun and competition with their friends and fellow Outlaws at Breezy Hill.

A brick mason by day, Helms breaks horses, and his wife, Lee, 33, teaches a horsemanship program at their farm.

"This stuff right here has really lit a fire under my kids, and that's good," says Helms, who transitioned his family to mounted shooting after his children became bored with years of competing in local horse shows and trail competitions.

"I'm just ... hooked. I can't be no deeper in it than I am already," Helms says. "I mean, I love it."

Helms stepped up during a competition in late May, offering to let Mike Lewallen borrow his horse, Poco, after Lewallen's horse injured her leg.

It's a typical scenario found throughout the country by the people who compete in this sport. Lewallen often lends his horses, guns, holsters and ammunition, especially during clinics for new shooters, to help get them started in the sport.

"This is a fairly expensive sport," Lewallen says. "I will do anything necessary in order to help people get involved in this sport."

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In addition to the cost of horses, guns and ammunition, there are strict dress requirements for both male and female competitors that mirror the Wild West in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

"You just want to be as authentic as possible," Mike Lewallen says.

This means T-shirts must be shed for long sleeves, buttoned at the cuffs. Baseball-style caps are replaced with traditional Western cowboy hats.

If riders don't opt for old-style button-up pants, modern Western clothing in the form of five-pocket jeans can be covered with chinks or chaps.

"In July and August, you have to suffer through it just like you would in the old days," Mike Lewallen says.

Female riders have more options. Sabrina Lewallen prefers to wear full-length dresses -- which permit short-sleeve blouses and no hat -- during the warmer months. In the cooler months, she opts for jeans, long-sleeve shirts and a traditional Western-style hat.

Another aspect that makes the sport appealing is the challenge of combining horsemanship and shooting skills. It's all about the rider, the horse and the course.

"Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time, everything that happens in that arena is my fault, my responsibility, my everything," Mike Lewallen says.

"If we shot every single balloon, this would be a boring sport ... because we would always win. It's what keeps us coming back. Trying to get better at what we do."

Riders describe close, special relationships with their shooting horses.

Potter, 45, adopted his American mustang, Comanche, from a wild range in California as a 2-year-old and has trained him to compete in mounted shooting.

"He and I now are blood brothers," Potter says. "I can't describe how much I love that horse and how much he loves me."

The pair won their first competition six weeks ago.

"I just wish that for one brief, sparkling little instant you could take what you feel when you're doing this with your horses and put it into somebody who is ... a non-horse person and ... share that feeling with the whole world," Potter says.

"In my fantasy world ... you could solve so many of the world's problems if you could share that ... feeling with people. Because it's ... definitely magical."

Contact Nelson Kepley at 373-7333 or nelson.kepley@news-record.com