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Bow and Arrow set...

Daveroo

Members +
An Oklahoma Kid's first Bow and Arrow set- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Don’t know who wrote this but he has a way with words that makes

one visualize being right there beside him. Good read

Life as a child growing up in Oklahoma ....

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 “sumbich”.

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).

A 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, so 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 SHOOT! 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 shoot.


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 COTTON PICKING

DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE.

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

Notice I said "was". That sucker 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. DAMN IT 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





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Sounds like the sort of dumb stunt I'd pull when I was a kid! :icon_lol:

:running:

Sounds like the dumb stunt (with a little less intensity) I DID pull. Won't tell what it was, this is a fambly forum and I'm not giving kids even more "ammo" to try out. Suffice ta say, the family goose was plucked early that year.

:guinness:
 
Sounds like the dumb stunt (with a little less intensity) I DID pull. Won't tell what it was, this is a fambly forum and I'm not giving kids even more "ammo" to try out. Suffice ta say, the family goose was plucked early that year.

:guinness:

"Plucked"??? :icon_eek::icon_eek::icon_eek:
 
That sounds so much like something I would have done as a kid....if I had Ether and gun powder around the house. I also will not list all of the things I did as a kid that could have easily ended my life....and boy were there plenty of them....but when I tell folks about them...they look at me and go "It's a wonder you survived your first 8 years of life."

Tim
 
ill relate one of my "dumb stunts" just for fun...

my mother forbade me to have..or ever ride motorcycles,yet everyone around me had them,and the majority of those with motorcycles either raced motorcross or speedway.

well one day we were all at the railroad tracks below our neighborhood,myself and "paula" were the only two without our own motorcycles...and she and i were also the youngest at about age 12,when my cousin randy said to me ,and i wont use the words,,but he was 5 years older,and dominated me in those days...well he called my manhood into question in front of paula,who i had a crush on at that time :jump:....he then said i should ride his bike over to the other side of the little ravine/canyon if you will..and challenge "jeff and louie" to a race...HA ...jeff was a champion ( locally) speedway rider and Louie raced at hangtown and other motorcross events yearly..and they were in COLLEGE !!

welli wasnt gonna back down anyway....i got on randys bike....i dont even remember what it was..yamaha something...shoved his helmet on my noggin and fired it up......well the safe way to get to jeff and louie was to ride over to my left about 50 yards and follow the trail down into and then back up the other side of the gulch.....but no..i spun the bike around....road it back as far as i could..turned back to point it at the gulch...and opened the throttle wide open.....i went for one of the little foot paths that led over the edge...wellll....when i woke up sometime later....randy was screamin at me i owed him a new motorcycle...jeff and louie had these real worried looks on their faces..like they knew they would be blamed for my death....paula was on top of me crying...and about 7 other guys were standing up on the edge of the cliff laughing like hyiena's...

i never have tried to ride a motorcycle since......well i rode on the back of my friend butch's once...a bunch of us had gone to the river to play one a sunday after the races...the girls got mad and took my truck home..left me and butch alone with his bike and i wasnt about to walk home.....so i rode on the back...as he crossed the foresthill bridge...mind you its 730' above the river....the jackchap stood up on the pegs to look over the edge....i wanted to kill him...and when he settled back down..i wrapped my arms around his waist like a girl does..and i didnt let go......i told him i didnt care if people thought we looked gay....if i was gonna fall offf...so was he!!!
 
That was dam funny. I know funny, and that was funny.

About ten years ago now, a friend of mine and I went camping in the Sierra Nevada mountains of California, with his two young sons (11 and 9, at the time). We had a couple of .22 rifles with us, and his sons each had one of those compressed air driven rifles. The kind where you have to screw in the compressed air canisters that are about a half inch in diameter and two inches long. For any of you our there who worked on US aircraft carrier flight decks, remember the air bottles you had to screw into your life vest (“float coat”)? Same thing. So the two young-uns are shooting things with their air rifles, and when it got dark we started “plinking” the empty air canisters with the .22 rifles. The kids wanted to set up a full one, to see what would happen. Dad was having none of that. “Do you guys know what those things cost? Set up the empty ones!” he admonished. Did you catch that? Dad would have the two boys “set up” the empty air bottles at some appropriate distance down range for the .22 exhibition... Any room for “skulduggery” here? Now a .22 doesn't make much noise when it goes off, everybody knows that. So there we were, plinking on “empty” air bottles, when all of a sudden, after squeezing the trigger on that puny .22 rifle, there was an “Earth-Shattering KA-BOOM!” It sounded like my Springfield Armory M1 30.06 cannon went off. Later we found the air bottle, peeled open like a banana, stuck in a tree behind us, which meant it sailed past our heads at some serious velocity... Yes, the lads set up a full canister, you know, to see what would happen...
 
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