We had the Russian SKS in the truck and glided to the gravel pile on top of the woodland bench to test it. I always keep the speed low, it's posted 20 and then 25 but I'm often slower. The dust gets kicked up if you roar through, and sometimes in the dusk it appears the entire town is burning there's so much dust.
Plus I like the old timers who cruise slow and seem to enjoy life just a little more than most of us. We know where we're going, it's close, be there in a wink, let's relax and hear a Beatles song on the CD.
But when we got to the plateau there was a red truck parked on top and a couple were strolling their baby along the dirt road. Baby was in a carriage and it reminded me of times not so long ago. It'd been me on that plateau and many other places, pushing a child either for pleasure or to bring him to sleep. I slowed tbe truck and gave a slight wave. They were walking away from the shooting area.
"Hi. Hey, we're just up here to test this rifle real quick. I know you're walking your baby but would it be OK if we test fired over by the gravel hill?"
The gal smiled at me but the guy started to shake and move back and forth. He was agitated.
"Well, first thing, is this is an administrative area and not for shooting."
I laughed. "I've been shooting here a long time."
"Oh well, don't listen to a guy who looks like me. Go ahead and do what you like." He walked off a few paces.
He had whispy hair over his ears. A swarthy muscular build, and he was right; with all that shaking back and forth he did look disreputable. But I'm the guy who just cut his own shoulder length hair and dropped the beard. How did we get to this place? A very strange turn. He had issues. I knew he was a BLM worker when he talked about the 'administrative' bit.
"I'll listen to you- no- OK; we'll just go somewhere else. Don't mean to bother you."
My voice was as kind as I could make it. I had three happy kids inside and hardly was a threat or pushing anyone around, let alone not listening. But the BLM is hard on it's workers in Eastern Montana. One of my best friends had to leave his Captain's position because of office politics and pressure.
The woman once more gave me a sympathetic look, and started to say it was OK to shoot.
"Oh sure, go ahead and shoot. Don't mind me. Now I'll have to move the truck."
"No, you wouldn't have to move-" I cut myself off.
"I think we'll just find another place." I looked at the gal. "I raised my kids here and it feels good to see a couple walking their baby." I nodded to her and drove off very slowly.
Sometime this week a new sign will go up; "No Shooting."
And the guy is so wrapped up in his head he'll never look back. "That Dude had no business shooting up here. Imagine shooting here. What a jerk. Well, this sign will make it clear."
I thought about returning, seeing if I couldn't cut through the fog. But I knew anything I said would be taken wrong.
He's a government employee. He'll do a good sign. We'll get order.
I felt sad. Sometimes magic happens and I can move the whole sheebang. Othertimes I'm powerless and just watch it play out. Who knows? Maybe we could have been friends. It would have been nice to have the couple over for dinner.
I didn't even have a khuk on my belt. If he got a look at that who knows what he'd come up with.
munk
Plus I like the old timers who cruise slow and seem to enjoy life just a little more than most of us. We know where we're going, it's close, be there in a wink, let's relax and hear a Beatles song on the CD.
But when we got to the plateau there was a red truck parked on top and a couple were strolling their baby along the dirt road. Baby was in a carriage and it reminded me of times not so long ago. It'd been me on that plateau and many other places, pushing a child either for pleasure or to bring him to sleep. I slowed tbe truck and gave a slight wave. They were walking away from the shooting area.
"Hi. Hey, we're just up here to test this rifle real quick. I know you're walking your baby but would it be OK if we test fired over by the gravel hill?"
The gal smiled at me but the guy started to shake and move back and forth. He was agitated.
"Well, first thing, is this is an administrative area and not for shooting."
I laughed. "I've been shooting here a long time."
"Oh well, don't listen to a guy who looks like me. Go ahead and do what you like." He walked off a few paces.
He had whispy hair over his ears. A swarthy muscular build, and he was right; with all that shaking back and forth he did look disreputable. But I'm the guy who just cut his own shoulder length hair and dropped the beard. How did we get to this place? A very strange turn. He had issues. I knew he was a BLM worker when he talked about the 'administrative' bit.
"I'll listen to you- no- OK; we'll just go somewhere else. Don't mean to bother you."
My voice was as kind as I could make it. I had three happy kids inside and hardly was a threat or pushing anyone around, let alone not listening. But the BLM is hard on it's workers in Eastern Montana. One of my best friends had to leave his Captain's position because of office politics and pressure.
The woman once more gave me a sympathetic look, and started to say it was OK to shoot.
"Oh sure, go ahead and shoot. Don't mind me. Now I'll have to move the truck."
"No, you wouldn't have to move-" I cut myself off.
"I think we'll just find another place." I looked at the gal. "I raised my kids here and it feels good to see a couple walking their baby." I nodded to her and drove off very slowly.
Sometime this week a new sign will go up; "No Shooting."
And the guy is so wrapped up in his head he'll never look back. "That Dude had no business shooting up here. Imagine shooting here. What a jerk. Well, this sign will make it clear."
I thought about returning, seeing if I couldn't cut through the fog. But I knew anything I said would be taken wrong.
He's a government employee. He'll do a good sign. We'll get order.
I felt sad. Sometimes magic happens and I can move the whole sheebang. Othertimes I'm powerless and just watch it play out. Who knows? Maybe we could have been friends. It would have been nice to have the couple over for dinner.
I didn't even have a khuk on my belt. If he got a look at that who knows what he'd come up with.
munk
