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 *censored* 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 Farm all 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
