Thought I’d share my Sunday with you guys.
This afternoon, my father asked me if I’d like to go to our hunting camp on the river with him and my nephew Harrison.
I said sure.
Well, we got there and the river was VERY high. A lot of trash/debris/foam was coming down the river.
We are fortunate that we have a high bluff opposite our camp, and the land beyond is uninhabited swampland.
Harrison had his single-shot Cricket .22 that he got for Christmas, Dad had a High Standard .22 9-shot revolver and I brought my custom Ruger 10/22.
We are picking our shots among the debris on the river. I managed a shot on a floating five-gallon bucket at approximately 150 yards. I had to “lead” the bucket by approximately 9 inches in order to make those kind of shots due to the speed of the current.
After a while of shooting, some of the persons who have camps near ours came out and parked 4-wheelers to watch and socialize. Over the day, we shot two 550 rounds of Federal hollowpoints. My 10/22 shot very well, but started hanging up towards the end. Considering I’ve put about 2,000 rounds through it since the last cleaning, that’s not too bad. Today was the first time it’s had any malfunctions—and that was after about 400 rounds today. Overall, I had about 10 stovepipes towards the end. There was only ONE .22 cartridge that failed to fire out of both bricks of Federal.
But here was the funny part…
At some point, Harrison asked me… Uncle John, are there really zombies?
I guess he really was listening all those times that I told Dad that he'd thank me when the zombies came. Hehe....
Being the helpful kind of guy I am, I proceeded to explain to him the nature of the living dead, and why it is so important to become a good shot. He now understands that it takes a headshot to drop one.
Of course, being at the river, I had to explain to him the concept of water-logged zombies. Needless to say, we started seeing them with regularity among the floating debris, and we dispatched them accordingly.
Dad just shook his head and reminded me that one day my sister is going to kill me for filling his head up with such.
Perhaps. But you just can’t buy entertainment like that.
And besides… have you ever considered how dull and boring childhood would have been if everyone didn’t have a “Crazy Uncle John” hanging around???
At any rate, I thought I’d share.
-- John
This afternoon, my father asked me if I’d like to go to our hunting camp on the river with him and my nephew Harrison.
I said sure.
Well, we got there and the river was VERY high. A lot of trash/debris/foam was coming down the river.
We are fortunate that we have a high bluff opposite our camp, and the land beyond is uninhabited swampland.
Harrison had his single-shot Cricket .22 that he got for Christmas, Dad had a High Standard .22 9-shot revolver and I brought my custom Ruger 10/22.
We are picking our shots among the debris on the river. I managed a shot on a floating five-gallon bucket at approximately 150 yards. I had to “lead” the bucket by approximately 9 inches in order to make those kind of shots due to the speed of the current.
After a while of shooting, some of the persons who have camps near ours came out and parked 4-wheelers to watch and socialize. Over the day, we shot two 550 rounds of Federal hollowpoints. My 10/22 shot very well, but started hanging up towards the end. Considering I’ve put about 2,000 rounds through it since the last cleaning, that’s not too bad. Today was the first time it’s had any malfunctions—and that was after about 400 rounds today. Overall, I had about 10 stovepipes towards the end. There was only ONE .22 cartridge that failed to fire out of both bricks of Federal.
But here was the funny part…
At some point, Harrison asked me… Uncle John, are there really zombies?
I guess he really was listening all those times that I told Dad that he'd thank me when the zombies came. Hehe....
Being the helpful kind of guy I am, I proceeded to explain to him the nature of the living dead, and why it is so important to become a good shot. He now understands that it takes a headshot to drop one.
Of course, being at the river, I had to explain to him the concept of water-logged zombies. Needless to say, we started seeing them with regularity among the floating debris, and we dispatched them accordingly.
Dad just shook his head and reminded me that one day my sister is going to kill me for filling his head up with such.
Perhaps. But you just can’t buy entertainment like that.
And besides… have you ever considered how dull and boring childhood would have been if everyone didn’t have a “Crazy Uncle John” hanging around???
At any rate, I thought I’d share.
-- John
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