Sunday

I had to get away to recharge my batteries!

I spent the last three days on the St Mary’s river, canoeing with friends. We had an awesome time, even though the river was flooded and good spots to camp were few and far between. There was gunfire, squirrel hunting (using canoes in flooded woods!), squirrel eating, beer drinking, flareguns, paddling, sh*t talking, and generally a great overall MAN trip!







Trip vignette # 1

I’m sitting on a dirt road in the woods, scanning the trees for squirrels, and I spot one along the trail behind me. Putting the crosshairs on him, he’s perfectly silhouetted on the top of a big limb overhanging the dirt road about 30 feet in the air. I get on the trigger and Mr. Squirrel does the full-body shimmy indicating a hit; so I double-tap him within a fraction of a second to ensure his demise.

As I take the .22 away from my eye, I note where a moment before the dirt road was empty, now stand two of my friends with startled looks on their faces! I focus on them in the exact moment that the squirrel hits the dirt no more than 3 feet in front of them! Way cool in its effect, but VERY unsettling in the knowledge I fired my rifle directly over their heads.

They forgave me in the sure and certain knowledge that I didn’t do it with malice aforethought!

Trip vignette # 2

We’re sitting in camp well engaged in shooting the bull when one of my buddies asks if it’s true that I’ve chopped trees down with my Main Battle Rifle. I assured him I had on more than one occasion. Since he was armed with his own recently acquired MBR chambered in a .308, he hastened to put the story to the test.

He picked out a nearby tree with a diameter of about ten to twelve inches and proceeded to open fire at it from a distance of about 25 feet. When the tree remained standing after the completion of the second magazine, he attempted to help it over by pushing on it. We the observers quickly and vehemently pointed out that this was “against the rules.” Angrily he went to his pack to get the third magazine for his rifle.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, I jumped up, grabbed by .22 semi-automatic and ran a few paces forward to change the angle of fire in the direction of the tree and out of alignment with my fellows.

The “rest of the story” you can most assuredly guess: The tree toppled with a resounding crash…right along with my friend’s self-esteem and confidence in his weapon! Not one to let it go by, I made sure to ask him repeatedly throughout the rest of our adventure, “Hey Rad… ya wanna shoot my .22?”

LOL

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