For the last few days I have been far out in the Virginia hinterlands at the farm of a fellow libertarian with Belfast ties. In fact, his daughter was born there and it made for rather interesting evenings, chatting about firearms, how to live independently… and talking about Belfast pubs, pub owners and musicians we knew in common.
It goes almost without saying that I, being a Samizdatista of the Inner Circle and this, being a good size farm, one thing led to another and I let off a few rounds at innocent metal cans with a classic rifle.
The can never stood a chance.
Photo: copyright Dale Amon, All Rights Reserved
In case you are wondering; this early 1932-34 era example of the Winchester .22 some of you remember from Boys Life, was lovely and in good shape except that the sight had serious issues. My first two shots at the can, about 25-30 yards out in the woods, missed. I thought I had lost the touch or perhaps my eyes needed work. I watched my friend try and saw the puff as his round impacted well above and behind the target. That told me what I needed to know. I aimed about six inches below the can and sent it spinning. A small thing, but I have not fired a rifle in a little over twenty years, so there was a bit of satisfaction in watching the can go flying.
I also had my opinion of chickens completely changed. Most chickens I have run across peck at the ground and pretty much do their dumb bird thing. But one of his hens was different. It was hand reared and as soon as we got to the coop it jumped up to ‘talk’ to us and be hand fed and get its feathers ruffled. This one had a real personality.
This personable young hen introduced herself to me while being fed by her personal nutritionist.
Photo: copyright Dale Amon, All Rights Reserved
Where and when I grew up, i.e. Tasmania in the 70’s and 80’s we always took a 22 on picnics to shoot at the empty beer cans generated. Kept us kids amused. Won’t be any of that now.
Almost the same here. Sigh.
Of course I did fire off a hundred or so rounds with a Glock about 6-7 years ago… but with my residence in the UK and my work being on the road and scraping by… opportunities to do such things have been limited to non-existent.
On the subject of old rifles:
From Corb Lund’s “Always Keep an Edge on Your Knife”, full of other good advice.
“I have not fired a rifle in a little over twenty years”
Saddest thing I ever read on this website. Dale (and Alisa), next time yer in the Dallas area…
Be careful what you wish for, Kim:-)
Not a wish, Alisa… just an open invitation. All I need is a week or so’s notice to set the thing up (full-auto guns, etc). Sadly, I cannot shoot off my back porch… well, not without being arrested.
All freedom loving tin can abusers are welcome here:
http://www.armbritain.com/forum
The wife-unit kept chickens, lost them to the depradations of various neighborhood predators, 4-footed, I suspect. The rooster was an absolute rat-bastard. If the wife-unit turned her back it’d lower a wing and start side stepping in. At least, until I caught it with a steel toe in midair. It seemed to think things through after that and abstain. It also bullied our puppy, until the puppy realized it wasn’t a puppy any longer and made lunch of him. Can’t say I miss him.