Doodlebugger45
New member
For all young bow hunters
Life as a child
Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little 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 will take 6
rounds before it goes down?
Tough critter.
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.
Keep in mind this was 99.999% humidity swampland so there really
wasn't any fire danger. Ill put it this way- a set of post hole
diggers and a 3 ft.. hole and you had yourself a well.
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.
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... 1 lb pyrodex and 16 oz ether should make a loud
pop, kinda like a firecracker you know?
You know what? Heck with 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, LORD! 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 *** 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. Uh-oh.
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 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 crawfish or two. The daylight turned purple.
Let me repeat this...THE DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE. There was
a big sweetgum 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 YOUR BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!!
CEASE FIRE. GODDAMNIT 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 185s 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 so dad could beat
me some more.
Bring him back to life so dad can kill him again. Thanks Mom.
One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that
stump again, Mom had been b!tching 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. And 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
Life as a child
Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little 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 will take 6
rounds before it goes down?
Tough critter.
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.
Keep in mind this was 99.999% humidity swampland so there really
wasn't any fire danger. Ill put it this way- a set of post hole
diggers and a 3 ft.. hole and you had yourself a well.
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.
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... 1 lb pyrodex and 16 oz ether should make a loud
pop, kinda like a firecracker you know?
You know what? Heck with 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, LORD! 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 *** 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. Uh-oh.
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 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 crawfish or two. The daylight turned purple.
Let me repeat this...THE DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE. There was
a big sweetgum 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 YOUR BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!!
CEASE FIRE. GODDAMNIT 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 185s 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 so dad could beat
me some more.
Bring him back to life so dad can kill him again. Thanks Mom.
One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that
stump again, Mom had been b!tching 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. And 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
