Heading to Indiana

I just loaded up my car with four long guns, five hand guns and a big assed box of ammunition. Bitter Clinger, indeed.

After a bit of work this morning I am heading to Indiana to meet friends old and new. For the last half decade we have gathered on a farm property once every autumn to enjoy the company of each other, and to celebrate the Second Amendment. We will enjoy some target shooting, grill some flesh, and have a beer or two (after shooting, of course). Rumor mill has it that we will have some ladies joining us this year, and I think that is fantastic.

I look forward to this weekend each fall very much and feel sort of “cleansed” and refreshed when I return home. There is a lot wrong with America, but there are still a lot of very good people here, and many that understand that these rights that our forefathers gave us are to be cherished and celebrated.

7 thoughts on “Heading to Indiana”

  1. Years ago a friend invited me up to a ranch where there was a big get together – 50-100 people coming up – with RVs and Trailers – a fun weekend.

    Highlight – to me – was this shotgun tournament – picture 30 guys (and the occasional gal) in a line – the clay pidgeon is launched – guy # 1 has to shoot at it – if me hits it fine – next one goes to #2 – if he misses – and #2 hits it – #1 is out – if #1 misses, #2 misses, #3 hits it, #1 and #2 our out – great fun

  2. Have fun.
    My husband does this once a year; the bonding isn’t over hunting & shooting – though that’s central, too; its renewing friendships kept alive after almost a half century in long talks at night. Mostly lawyers, they expect him to read a Victorian poet or two aloud at night – that’s part of the deal. But most of all, I suspect, they bring memories & tales of their grandchildren. You’re still too young for that, I suspect – and you are building those memories.

  3. My best memories of my father were hunting trips when I was a kid. He had a big metal box, his “hunting box” which contained a one burner Coleman stove, various cooking implements and the food for the outing. He would cook hamburgers after hunting. One friend of his almost shot me when I was about 6 but otherwise everyone was experienced and careful with guns. I recall a trip when I was 9 where we went duck hunting on an island in the Illinois river. Unfortunately, it was a nice day, not “good weather for ducks,” so the hunting was slow.

    Finally, my father left the blind and went into the woods in the center of the island to cook lunch. As the hamburgers cooked, hunters appeared from everywhere, drawn by the smell of cooking. When we walked back to the cooking spot, we also found that he had gotten three ducks “pass shooting” with his magnum 12 gauge, while we were sitting in the blind wasting time. He was a great wing shot. Hunting on my grandparents farm when I was about 15, I saw him get two pheasants with a double barreled 28 gauge. One with each barrel.

    We used to have big drives with 12 or 15 friends and relatives on the farm. Half would start at one end of a field and the other half at the other. When we got about midfield, we would see 50 to 70 pheasants flush. I once got my limit in 10 seconds when I was 15. I was shooting a 20 gauge Ithaca pump. When I moved to California, I still hunted with friends. The hunting was different, mostly quail and rare duck. The weekend after Kennedy was shot, we were hunting in the Imperial Valley near the Mexican border for pheasants. Most of the pheasants were semi-tame and stocked. I don’t know if the state does that any more. Probably not environmentally correct.

Comments are closed.