Bryan had to work Thursday and Friday, so during the day I was on my own. Nothing too exciting to report on that. Went to a movie, went to Denny's for coffee and read the paper, blah blah blah. On Thursday night Bryan and I went out and had a good time. It was the first time I'd ever seen people line dance (not counting TV).
Bryan leases either 50 acres or 100 (I can't remember which) and on Saturday we went out there. He's got a few deer feeders out there that sprinkle corn on the ground every so often. Next to those, he sets up a camera that has a motion detector and takes pictures of what comes around for the corn. He's got a lot of amazing pictures. Wild pigs, deer, possums, raccoons and bobcats even. So we (well, he) restocked the deer feeders and then we got out the guns.
I've never shot anything bigger than a pellet gun, but have always wanted to try it. We forgot a couple guns at Bryan's place, but we still had plenty. We shot 9mm and .40 caliber pistols, a .22 shotgun and another shotgun I can't remember the caliber of. It's two days later and my should is still a little tender, so it was a pretty big one. It was a fucking blast. No pun intended.
Left Bryan's Monday morning and stopped for the night in Texarkana, Arkansas. Or maybe Texarkana, TX. I'm not sure which side of the border I'm on, but it's just one big town anyway. I was looking for a place to stay on what I thought was the main drag when I saw a big sign that said, "VISITORS! DON'T STAY HERE! HOOKERS + DRUGGIES!" I took their advice and kept on driving, but still ended up in a craphole. I think I'm going to splurge on accommodations tomorrow night
I've got pictures that aren't pink now...
Here's the road leading up to Bryan's house. I wish I could spend the entire trip on roads like this.
Here are his two dogs. I want to say their names are Timba and Kinta. I don't think I have them right though. They're from some movie, so you should be able to figure out what their names are. Let me know if you do.
Before we headed out to the land he leases, Bryan was trying to jimmy-rig the gas door on his truck. He had superglued a magnet in there. This shot is of him saying, "Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!" after he realized he glued the magnet into the wrong place.
This is Bryan trying to shoot a pop bottle about 70 yards away with the .22 caliber shotgun. I'm going to say he missed.
Here's me shooting the .40 at some pop cans in the tire track. The puff of dirt behind the cans is what I actually hit.
I don't know why I'm posting this one. There's a similar shot of Bryan, but he'd kick my ass if I posted it.
Here's what happens when you get lost in Texas. It was deeper than it looks.
3 comments:
Glad to hear you had fun shooting shit. Just so you know next time, a .22 is a rifle, it only shoots one bullet. A shotgun shoots a bunch of little BBs. If you were using a shotgun you probably would have hit the pop can a lot more times.
From now on, I'm going to call all guns "boom-boom machines" just so I don't make a mistake like that again.
You can always call my gun a boom-boom machine. I have no problem with that.
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