Get your kid into Archery

[fiddler]

Stolen from another forum. I have no idea if it's true.

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 place 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 sumbich.

That got boring, so being the 10 yr. old Dukes of Hazzard 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. I"ll put it this way - a set of post hole diggers and a 3ft. hole and you had yourself a well.

Anyway, one summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak stump in our backyard. I look 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 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) to add to the excitement.

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...1lb pyrodex and 16oz 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. 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 SH*T! 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 WT 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. Sh*t.

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 mother 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 DAMIT 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 2000ft 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 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 muzzleloaders 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.. Its good discipline and will teach them skills they can use later on in life. Something they won"t learn in school.

[MichiganShootist]

Thanks for sharing :roflol:

[tjs375]

Nothing like starting the day with a good laugh

[wi shooter]

I just double checked the locks on my kids bows, and my powder

Edited February 3, 2011 by wi shooter

[dcarter]

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 DAMIT CEASE FIRE!!!!!

OMG....that is way too funny!

[RogerT]

:roflol: :roflol:

[NCUrk]

Note to self, Do NOT try to be drinking a Pepsi while reading this... Pepsi coming from your throat, through your sinus's and out your nose burns... I wont even mention the mess on the keyboard....

[C.W.]

[Bigpops]

RAISING A SON

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 955 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). The 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. Let's 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. 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 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 FRICKING DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE"!!!!!!!

There was a big sweetgum tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was". That sumbich 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.

[DWFAN]

hilarious

I'm sure the people sitting around me at work are wondering wth is so funny.

[Bigpops]

hilarious

I'm sure the people sitting around me at work are wondering wth is so funny.

I had the same reaction and had to share with my co-workers in fear they thought I'd fully lost my mind.

This story reminded me of when I was a kid living in Las Vegas. I decided to help my dad rid our yard of ants. So....2 gallons of Coleman lantern fuel poured down ant hill - check! One match - check! Well...you can imagine the rest.

At least the eyebrows and hair grew back over the summer!

[whitedog]

Excellent.......

[rfwobbly]

I'm rolling on the floor because I really did have a similar experience.

When I was about 16, my friends and I were into fireworks which were illegal in Georgia, so that meant we had to roll our own. We had grown tired of cutting match heads off kitchen matches and the other usual sources, so one of my buddies sent me into a gun store to buy a pound of FFG. I was bigger and they all assured me I looked 18. "Besides, if you act like you know what you're doing they'll sell you anything", they assured me. And sure enough they did.

Well, we made firecrackers for about a week, then as summer wore on we grew tired of that too. Then these same wizards came up with the bright idea to dispose of the rest of the FFG by igniting it all at one time.

Well, being long-time Saturday morning students of Hopalong Cassidy, Roy Rogers, the Lone Ranger, and a thousand other black and white TV heroes, we all knew the gospel of black powder. We had seen it all 1000 times. To make a fuse all you had to do was simply make a powder trail in the dirt. It never failed; it fizzled really slow and the bad guys always had time to get away.

So we poured the contents into a big pile there in the middle of the driveway and proceeded to make our little serpentine trail for the fuse. The fuse trail was about 1/8" wide and about 12" long. Surely we all agreed, enough time to run into the house and watch from the safety of the bedroom window. When all was in readiness, you'll never guess who the wizards elected to do the high honors.

So there I was, in short pants and T-shirt, squatting over at the ready, matchbook in hand. At the signal the lit match touched the end of the fuse. Before I could even blink my eyes, there was this huge WHOOSH! It happened so fast that I was still crouched over the pile of powder and still holding the (now extinguished) match in my extended right hand! And all I could hear was my buddies rolling on the grass laughing.

When I asked what was so funny they led me into the bathroom for a look in the mirror. All the hair on my forehead, eyebrows, eye lashes, right arm, and both shins was completely singed off. I looked about as ugly as one of those hairless cats.

And to this day, I have never fooled with black powder again.

Edited June 29, 2011 by rfwobbly