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RangerRob

Well-known member
Joined
Sep 12, 2005
Messages
1,370
Location
Lookout Valley
Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little badass compound bow beginner


kits. Of course, the first month I went around our land sticking arrows in


anything that could get stuck by an arrow. Did you know that a 1955 40


horse Farmall tractor tire will take 6 rounds before it goes down? Tough


sumbitch.














That got boring, so being the 10 yr. old Dukes of Hazard fan that I was, I


quickly advanced to taking strips of cut up T-shirt doused in chainsaw gas


tied around the end and was sending flaming arrows all over the place. One


summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak


stump in our backyard. I looked over under the carport and see a shiny


brand new can of starting fluid (Ether). The light bulb went off in my head.


I grabbed the can and set it on the stump. I thought that it would probably


just spray out in a disappointing manner. Lets face it, to a 10 yr old


mouth-breather like myself, Ether really doesn't "sound" flammable. So,


I went back into the house and got a 1 pound can of pyrodex (black powder


for muzzle loader rifles).














At this point, I set the can of ether on the stump and opened up the can of


black powder. My intentions were to sprinkle a little bit around the


Ether can but it all sorta dumped out on me. No biggie, a 1 lb. pyrodex


and 16 oz Ether should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker you know?


You know what? Screw that I'm going back in the house for the other can.














Yes, I got a second can of pyrodex and dumped it too. Now we're cookin'.














I stepped back about 15 ft and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to


my cheek and took aim. As I released I heard a clunk as the arrow launched


from my bow. In a slow motion time frame, I turned to see my dad getting


out of the truck... OH SHIT! He just got home from work. So help me God


it took 10 minutes for that arrow to go from my bow to the can. My dad was


walking towards me in slow motion with a WTF look in his eyes. I turned


back towards my target just in time to see the arrow pierce the starting


fluid can right at the bottom. Right through the main pile of pyrodex and


into the can. Oh Shit.














When the shock wave hit it knocked me off my feet. I don't know if it was


the actual compression wave that threw me back or just reflex jerk back from


235 fricking decibels of sound. I caught a half a millisecond glimpse of


the violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you there was


dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1 ft above the ground as far as I could


see. It was like a little low to the ground layer of dust fog full of


grasshoppers, spiders, and a worm or two.














The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this... THE FRICKING DAYLIGHT


TURNED PURPLE.














There was a big sweetgum tree out by the gate going into the pasture.


Notice I said "was". That sumbitch got up and ran off.














So here I am, on the ground blown completely out of my shoes with my


thundercats T-Shirt shredded, my dad is on the other side of the carport


having what I can only assume is a Vietnam flashback:














ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOU'RE BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. DAMNIT


CEASE FIRE!!!!!














His hat has blown off and is 30 ft behind him in the driveway. All windows


on the north side of the house are blown out and there is a slow rolling


mushroom cloud about 2000 ft. over our backyard. There is a Honda 185 3


wheeler parked on the other side of the yard and the fenders are drooped


down and are now touching the tires.














I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this moment. I don't know - I know I


said something. I couldn't hear. I couldn't hear inside my own head. I


don't think he heard me either... not that it would really matter. I don't


remember much from this point on. I said something, felt a sharp pain, and


then woke up later. I felt a sharp pain, blacked out, woke later....repeat


this process for an hour or so and you get the idea. I remember at one


point my mom had to give me CPR. and Dad screaming "Bring him back to life


so I can kill him again". Thanks Mom.














One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again, Mom


had been bitching about that thing for years and dad never did anything


about it. I stepped up to the plate and handled business.














Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later. I still have some sort of


bone growth abnormality, either from the blast or the beating, or both.














I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into archery. It's good


discipline and will teach them skills they can use later on in life.














Author Unknown
 
Glad to see you`re still kickin` RR
That`s almost as stupid as standing in the pasture and see how high you can shoot an arrow straight up in the sky. Funny.... the bow and arrows disappeared a few days later ...never to be seen again. Kinda like the real bullwhip I had for a few days. Little Sister was glad to see it go !
 
Still around, Snuffy. Hope you're well, old pal. This little story was actually compliments of our old brother (from the original Delta House) Freebird. He'd sent this to me in an email and I stumbled across it today. After nearly needing a Depends from laughing so hard - all over again, of course - I decided I'd put it on here to share.
 
Omg. Laughed so hard it hurt! Sounds like something I would have done. We just threw starting fluid and spray cans in burning garbage barrels.
 

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