My first bow and arrow

[Cossack]

Life as a child growing up in on a farm ..... North Dakota

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 1955 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).

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.

[Starvin' Hillbilly]

LMAO! . . . you sure you didn't follow me round' as a kid out in the country? bet you was a little cuss as a kid lol

[xcaliber]

Nice read, all part of growing up I suppose. I was more trouble than I care to admit!

[Kegbelly]

That's hilarious Cossack, thanks for sharing that! We would have been good buddys as kids!

[jody5252]

OMG! I chocked, cause I was laughing so hard... There is absolutely NO way that your Dad EVER let you forget that! Oh yes. I agree, teach those kids, Archery...

[frisky]

That's hilarious Cossack, thanks for sharing that! We would have been good buddys as kids!

X2 lol

[Yarak]

Cossack, best read ever on the forum!!

[VixChix]

That there is CLASSIC!!!!! Almost as good as 'Shucks and the ATV!

[Cossack]

Obviously that first story is a reproduction. But we were into bows in a big way as kids. Made em from all sorts of wood; even had willow patches - for making arrows - that we staked out as our own and fought over with willow poachers. To make arrows, I'd take a finishing nail flatten the head part on an anvil and shape it into a rough facsimile of an arrowhead with a file. The shank of the now arrow head would be pushed into the split willow shaft and held in place when wrapped with light copper wire. (The kind from purloined extension cords worked great) The vanes were made from the feathers of pigeons my dad raised and were collected when they molted - and sometimes before the pigeon was ready to lose them.

I found that by aiming my arrow at a spot at the top of the neighbors garage the arrow would hit approximately in the middle of the door. It would stick in and quiver.....just like the arrows of the Indians in the dime cowboy movies.

One day I made a shot that stuck into the door as hoped and was following it up with another....when the door opened and my target turned into the neighbor kid's DAD! And my arrow was quivering just inches from his face.

My ole man busted that precious ash bow over where I usually sit, then threw it into an abandoned cistern so I couldn't salvage anything.

Man that bow was strong; judging by the whacks it took to break it.

[amythntr]

.....I'm sure that this will find itself into every archery manual on the proper way to teach a 10 year old how to shoot archery!....

Anthony

[mr meat]

L.M.A.O!! Great story!

[Doe Master]

This is the humour we needed in the Winter blahs here .

[Kegbelly]

Cossack, you mean that story was a fabrication? I bought it hook, line and sinker Hilarious nonetheless, I could just picture it taking place! The sky turning purple is what sold me

[Cossack]

My body bears the scars of 60+ yrs of tinkering but not even I would think of mixing Ether with Pyrodex, well......

[Kegbelly]

When you're 10 years old (back in our day anyhow) a lot of things were learned by "lets try this and see what happens" I was a bit mischievous as a child and I have my scars too
True story: I made a shotgun pistol one time... found a piece of 1" iron pipe in Dad's junk box, hammered the end flat and bent the end over and hammered it flat again, drilled a hole in the top and used as many Black Cat firecrackers as I could stuff in it for the charge. Fished the fuses through the hole and packed it full of gravel, made a pretty mean little sawed off! Got hold of a quick fuse one day, shot the window out of the garage and peppered the aluminum siding with gravel. Dad was not impressed with my invention