Thursday, April 26, 2007

Blue Mountain

Do you know how I'd love to spend my days off? Paintballing. Now I can't say that I'm a pro paintballer as I have gone a mere two times, both to the same place. And where did I go paintballing? Read the title and you'll find out.
Blue Mountain is more than a paintball course, it is an amusement center. There is wall climbing, zip lines and a whole lot more. It is really alot of fun. Anyway, I didn't do too much but paintball anyway, so I guess I'll be forced to tell you those stories.
The first time was rather boring, not enough people were there to make it interesting. But the second time I went, which was with the Shell Lake School classes 7/8/9, I had the best time of my life.
The first round was slow, a capture the flag type of game. The course was small and frantic, and I prefer the bigger places so I can run around and have more room to shoot. I got my wish on the second round.
The second round took place in a very large place. There was two foxholes where about 3 people could hide, and the main trench had room for about 6 or 7 people. The trenches overlooked a small bush that went around to the right of the trenches, and the left was another bushy area. The center was littered with things to hide behind, like a fridge and barrels. Anyways, I started up top and went into the far right trench overlooking the bushy area. I wasn't there alone of course, I had three other guys with me; Andrew, Morgan and Jesse. Now we couldn't really fit in there so well, so we kinda laid as flat as we could around it when there was no action.
A couple of minutes into the game I saw 2 people walking into the bush at the bottom of the hill. We opened fire but the range was too great and it was hard for us to hit them, but we bravely shot on. I could see the other trenches being peppered and occasionally the assailants would open up at us, but we held our ground well. When we turned back after a diversionary attack from the center, we could only see one of the two guys we had been shooting at. We fired when he got into a clearing, and we managed to shot him in the head. However, the far left trench was taken over and the center trench was hard pressed, so we were kinda alone. We sent Andrew and Jesse into the bush to see of they could find the second guy, and soon me and Morgan were alone. I fired a few rounds at some hiding dudes, but was unable to hit them. As I began to load a few more paintballs into my gun Morgan screamed and clutched the back of his head. The second guy was behind us, and I was next! I stared at him and prepared for a shot to the chest (seeing how that was the largest target), and just he was pulling the trigger the whistle blew. Time up, so we managed to hold them off in one trench, with me being the lone survivor.
The next round we were at the bottom of the hill, and when the whistle blew I shot up the left side as fast as I could. I dove into some cover and fired a few rounds, then my gun did the most horrid thing. It jammed. Yup, I was now defenceless and alone. I quickly ran up to the instructor guy and he fixed my gun in about 2 seconds, which made me think I was unworthy to play. However, I quickly ran back to the starting position and started the climb once more, passing some teammates who were climbing the center. I set my sites on the center trench which was pounding our boys and girls senseless. The left trench was gone, nobody left to defend it, so I got a little closer but kept to the trees. I saw heads popping up for a couple of seconds at a time, then disappearing quickly. I aimed for where I thought the next head would protrude, and my patience paid off. Two heads popped up and I unleashed a fury upon them, firing as fast as my finger could tap the trigger. Both people screamed and ran off to the area where the "wounded" went, and I thought I might have this situation turned around. I was pumped, I had saved the day! I single-handedly turned the tide of the battle, and now there was only a handful left. My cockiness nearly killed me.
I began to get up to jump into the empty left trench when I saw a gun pointed at me. I dove just in time and saw the tree that saved my life having the sap kicked out of it. I sheltered my head and waited for a ball to strike me anytime.
A sudden lull allowed me to get behind better cover, and the sniping started again. Me and the mystery shooter packed away furiously, each unable to hit the other. I then saw one of the parents crawling up the hill commando style, gun blazing at the main trench. It was one of the bravest things I have ever seen. Then I had my chance arrive.
The mystery man, obviously awestruck by the masked woman crawling up the hill regardless of a potential welt, stood up slightly to get a better view. I then rose slowly, firing three shots in quick succession. The third struck home and he went down in a heap't think of the word but you know what I'm thinking of.
The stillness after he went down stunned me, and I didn't know whether or not everyone was shot. A pair of hands then went up form the main trench, the last person holding out surrendering. A glorious day indeed.
I later got a wonderful shot through a 2 inch opening, totally fluke but beautiful nonetheless. The shot squeezed between the crack in a window, and struck a enemy player in the back of the head. Got a good laugh out of that.
Anyway, thus ends today's story, I shall write again soon enough, but as of right now I am suffering from eyestrain and must rest them. Maybe I'll watch a movie....

Saturday, April 21, 2007

Recon children

When I was a little tyke I always wanted to become a special operation soldier. Now this isn't out of the ordinary or anything for an 8 year old child, we all want to become policemen or army dudes. However, I got walkie-talkies for Christmas one year and it really got me going.
A week after I got these shiny new two-way radios we went to our annual Loseth Christmas get-together for 3 days at Christopher Lake. I loved it there, lots of family I could talk to and intense games of crokinole. Yes, life could be no better than that. However this year it was better because of my new gadgets. When we got there (our family was almost always last to arrive) I unloaded my stuff and ran to my room where I would be staying, claiming bottom bed. I then whipped out my walkies to show off to the three cousins I would be hanging out with all weekend.
Well, I was surprised to know that my older cousin Jason had also got walkie-talkies. I was also jealous because unlike my pink and black ones (which looked really sweet), he had a base set, my guess is for the headquarters, and then two other hand-held ones. And his were camo! I swallowed my pride and we all ran downstairs to make a base and start the reconnaissance.
After making a fort out of beds and mattresses, we quickly set up teams to go and spy on the older cousins. Now this year was scary, because there was some new faces in the place we were staying. My cousin had brought her boyfriend or fiance or something like that, and I was scared of him. He looked frightening, bald with piercings and what-not. Yes, I was truly going to have to watch myself around him, I couldn't trust him.
Well, we started out, all 3 of us, to go upstairs and start the spying. I think that Jason and Luke stayed downstairs, but I could be badly mistaken. I know someone was down there because I was talking to then via the new expensive toys.
As we started to watch two of my cousins, the one with the scary dude and her brother, who was also bald, something bad started to develop. They saw us. I don't know how they figured out we were spying on them, maybe it was the fact we sat underneath tables with walkie-talkies strapped to our bodies and our eyes glued to them. This is only a guess however, because the real reason is unknown.
Then my smallest cousin, who happened to be the bravest of us all, started to crawl towards the table at which these guys sitting around. I began to scream into the walkie-talkies to HQ, hoping that through them we could get Larsson to abort his suicidal mission. These guys were punks, and we were little children who still had most of their baby-teeth left (I actually knocked out one of my brothers baby-teeth here, swinging my arm and smoking him in the kisser accidentally). Our pleas for the madman to stop his advance to useless, and soon all we could do was watch in horror as he went right under our cousins chair. His small arms worked madly as our cousins continued to talk about how there freakishness was going, and how their band was going to be a huge hit.
All of a sudden Larsson crawled away, and we all blew a sigh of relieve. Larsson was laughing to himself, and we all wondered what he did.
All of a sudden Ryan, the bald cousin of ours (not the boyfriend, the cousin), tried to get up and to everyones surprise his chair came up with him. Larsson had wrapped his keychain around his chair and now he was stuck to it. Everyone in the cabin noticed this unusual phenomenon and began to do the only thing they could do; laugh. Ryan turned about 10 shades of red as he looked around as fast as he could, trying to find out who had done this unspeakable act of cruelty. When he saw a small boy rolling with laughter under a table with a walkie-talkie clipped to his shirt he knew at once hit was him. He lunged for for Larsson, roaring loudly (I never could figure out if it was a roar of anger or a roar of laughter), but Larsson was faster because he didn't have a chair stuck to his butt. We all escaped downstairs and enjoyed this time because for once in our young lives we came out on top.

Thursday, April 19, 2007

Do you dare....

Ahhh dares, one of the few things in the world that people can still enjoy. The mere sound of the word get people curious, wanting to know what idiotic thing someone will do so they won't look like a wimp.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not encouraging people to go out and make a stupid dare and nearly get someone killed or arrested. There should always be a limit on what the dares are. For instance, if I was dared to ask out the cheerleader captain to supper, that is acceptable. If I was dared to shoot a vehicle with a paintball gun, I wouldn't (unless it was mine of course).
I, like every other normal human being, have been dared countless times. I have been dared to do weird, stupid, funny and even gross things. I haven't really been dared to do anything lately, which is fine by my standards, but have done some things that I have a slight reputation for. I shall share one of these stories so you may enjoy a good laugh or maybe so you can develop a lecture to tell your kids what not to do when dared. Well, here it is then.
I can't remember the first dare I had, nor will I ever remember it. I did, however, make one of the stupidest bets of my entire life. I agreed to drink one container of evaporated milk.
OK, before you react to harshly or laugh to hard or go off to drink one yourself, you must learn the reason why and the result. This is very important because I don't want my blog to be responsible for a emergency room trip or something.
My uncle was telling me stories on how he wanted to put on weight while he was doing some construction work in B.C., so he went out and bought a couple of cases of evaporated milk. He drank these for a while and put on a ton of weight. Now I am a thinner guy, and have always wanted to be a little bigger. Not that I wanted to be fat, but I wanted to be large enough so you could see me when I turned sideways.
I was talking to my friend Linsay when I mentioned this evaporated milk thing to her. I was wondering what it would taste like to drink one, because I'm that type of guy. She then dared me to drink one for some reason or other, and since I can't remember it I will leave it at that.
Well, I knew that I must do it or be called a wimp or loser or noob, so I agreed.
About a year later I was on a youth retreat down at Millar. Yes, this was the retreat where I was brutally beaten and left to die of shame or internal bleeding. Thankfully none of the two happened.
On the way back to our hometown we stopped at a gas station of some sort. I went to the bathroom, which is kinda funny because I was forced to use the women's restroom. I really had to go and there was a huge lineup, and since every other guy had to go badly they wouldn't let me go ahead of them. I then saw the girls in our group doing nothing, so I ran over and dragged them back to the bathroom area. I asked them to watch over the bathroom and make sure that no other ladies came in, and they agreed to do so. I ran in and they stood there like two bodyguards protecting the president. However, normal bodyguards don't laugh and tell everyone else who is the ladies bathroom. I survived again and ran out of it, embarrassed to the max.
As we were ready to leave Linsay noticed that there was evaporated milk in the stores freezer. I told her if she bought it I would drink it, and she wouldn't spent the $1.50 or so it was so I bought it myself. I told her I couldn't drink it there because I would get sick, and told her I would when we got home.
4 hours later we arrived home, and as I stood standing outside the local ESSO a can was thrust into my face. I swallowed and went inside to get a can opener, and then returned outside after I had opened it. It was dark outside, probably about 8:30, and I looked at the cow on the can. It was just me and him, and I concentrated as hard as I could to get my stomach ready. I threw the can to my lips and started to chug.
The first thing I noticed was the milk was warm, a little too warm for my liking. I also noticed it was very thick, but I closed my eyes and continued to tilt my head back. As the milk made its way into my stomach my brain was screaming at me to stop and throw this back up. I shook my head and continued like a brave soldier on a suicidal mission, waiting for the end to come. Finally the milk stopped flowing and I threw down the can, standing myself up normal again. I quickly bent over as the wave of nausea hit me, and nearly passed out from the pain. I could feel the thick, warm milk curdling inside of my stomach, a horrible experience don't you know. I quickly lunged for my huge slushy cup, and ripped open the lid. I then realized I couldn't hurl all this up, I had to hold it back until the girls left. Anna and Linsay both began gathering bags as I curled up on the frozen ground praying I could see my parents one last time.
Thankfully the girls ride arrived right away, and they threw their bags into the van. I stood up to say goodbye, and then I quickly went home myself. I didn't puke, but I know that I would never do that again (unless it was a good reason, like a date with someone or something).
And what did I get in return for this act of courage? A hug, which is much better than anything I could have wished for.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

A new tradition

This is a wonderful poem that my uncle whipped up one day after a successful hunting trip. It has been a favorite of mine and shall be read every time I go out to hunt, or so I hope. Maybe I'll just memorize it and sing it to myself when I am all alone, freezing in a treestand or being charged by a bear. This is also the eve of spring bear season, so it is only fitting to have a hunting story in it. So here it is, "The Ballad of Siki".



Ray Loseth

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Face Down

If you don't get the title for this blog, I suppose I will have to forgive you. The title "Face Down" is by a band called The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, and it has a very powerful message. The song is about a woman who is being abused by her husband. Now if you can put two and two together (wow, say that 5 times real fast) you will get what this blog is about. That is right my wee grasshopper, it is about abuse. My personal abuse by.....women.
Ok, so if you are a guy reading this you are probably scoffing at me and telling me I must be really weak or something to let a girl, or girls, beat me up. If you are a girl reading this you must be thinking that I deserved it. Nonsense to both accounts, I didn't deserve it and I am in fact not weak, I just never like to show off the hidden strength. I shall now tell you the horrid tales of the abuse I have put up with.
I can remember vividly when the abuse started. My brother Derek and sister Rachel love to tease me and beat me up. OK, so that's perfectly normal family behaviour, right? WRONG! I must have been a threat to them or something because it was always both of them at once instead of one at a time. They would descend on me like wraiths in the night, silent and deadly. I know what your thinking, "Man this dude overreacts alot, he just wants to get his story more interesting". Not at all my dear reader, not at all. They actually had "Pick-on-Jeremy-days" once a week, where they would spend all day harassing me. This didn't mean that they didn't annoy me the other 6 days a week, it was just worse on that one day. Rachel actually jumped on my head one day and made me cry. Ya, it hurt.
After Rachel was gone, the beatings stopped. This is probably because Derek knew he was powerless by himself, and he quickly slinked his way back into the shadows of his room. Now then, I had a friend named Kelcie (yes, the same person who ran from the bear) who took up the beatings. It wasn't too bad, at least not compared to the beatings that Rachel gave me. She would punch me at work and such things, but at least she didn't jump on my head. I quickly ended her rein of terror by jabbing her shoulder with my pointed fingers, and after nearly paralyzing her arm a truce was announced and it has been in place ever since. I was in good shape and heading into the final stretch for high school, so the outlook was good. I was unstoppable, or was I......?
I have a couple of friends, Linsay and Anna, who learnt their evil ways from another of my cousins, Kealie. Kealie is the one who roars like a man, but she is very attractive and nice when you get past the right jab. This is a hint to all you guys who want a fiery, I'm-in-charge kinda person. Anywho, she had a major influence on these other two innocent ladies who were very nice. All of a sudden I was being beaten on by these three girls, although they didn't have the strength of Rachel. When the ringleader (Kealie) left for Bible School, I thought it would all end. Wow, don't know how I figured that.
The most humiliating beating was at a youth retreat in Millar, where Kealie attended Bible School. I was sitting on a couch in the lounge, with Anna sitting on my left, and Linsay to the left of her. I had been fencing earlier that day with a real sword, and had got stabbed below the belt. So here I am hurting and thinking that these two angels of mercy have come to comfort me. I believe it started out that way, but about 5 minutes into the conversation they struck! I muttered something intelligent like "stupid feelings", referring to the emotional distress I had just been thru by being stabbed (by a girl nonetheless). Well, being the conclusion-jumpers they are, they thought I had said "stupid females". No way this is possible of course, why would I say such a daft thing in front of them? Well, Anna gasped in horror and swung a left hook in my direction. Of course I had no clue that this was coming, and I was very quickly doubled over.
I wish I could tell you that this was the end, but far from it my friend. While I was trying to gulp in life preserving air, they both leapt on me! I am defenceless for 3 reasons:
1) I can't hit girls, it's against my beliefs (plus there are about 50 other people in the room).
2) I'm hurt
3) They have just body slammed me into the ground, and having 2 people on you limits your movements.
The beating lasted about about a half minute, but the emotional pain was much longer. By the time I had gotten up, they didn't even want to talk to me. When the finally listened to my explanation, they had too much pride in what they did and said a pretty sad "I'm sorry". They had tasted the blood, and once they get the scent of blood they keep coming back for more, just like a shark. I have been beaten many times since then, and 99% of those times I have been totally innocent. You want another example of my innocence because my story doesn't make you believe? Alright then, here is another example.
Mont Nebo, winter 2006. We are playing a came of some sorts, where you have to go and grab a milk carton from the opposite base and bring it back without being caught. I had just stolen a carton from the enemy base and was running back around the youth can when it happened. I can remember everything in slow motion, the crunch of the snow underfoot with light snowflakes coming down slowly. I turn the corner around the front of the van, my safety zone a mere 20 feet away. I then see two shapes, like doomsday riders without horses. I see one of the shapes, more likely Linsay because Anna is really small, go into a bodychecking position, shoulder up and feet lifting off the feet. I tried to backpedal but it was too late, and I got nailed.
Now this was no ordinary hit, this was a Mike Komisarek/Dion Phanuef hit. If you haven't seen any of these hockey players hit, you are really missing something. This hit nearly knocked me out, and as I was falling to the ground and my eyesight dimming, I saw my carton flying gracefully in a high arc over my head. The next thing I remember is high pitched laughter and a wicked headache. I completed the game, though I wasn't the same afterwards.
Well, these incidents have definitely been the most painful and memorable, not to mention the most humiliating. However, I have to forgive the fairer gender for this, as we males have pushed around the women for a long time. This is payback for all the years that guys have made fun of ladies, calling them cootie-heads and icky-faces.
Now that I have told you all of my experiences concerning womanly abuse, I'd like to hear yours. This is a heavy hint for you to leave a comment, so do it!

Thursday, April 5, 2007

Le New School

New things are scary. You know as well as I do that not all new things may be scary, but a handy majority have you thinking that this could be bad. Seriously, that is the number one reason why people don't like to do new things: it's just too scary. Now that I thoroughly have you thinking and believing that new things are scary, here is my newest blog entry (and don't you dare get scared and run!):
I admit that I am a coward. Yes people, the truth has sprung forward and I am a chicken. I don't like new things (unless they are birthday presents or something, then it's totally awesome!) for really unknown reasons. When I took my drivers training, I was scared. When I got to start my new jobs, I was scared. When I faced down my first drunk at the ESSO, I was understandably frightened. Now with the exception of the latter example, those are pretty minor right? I mean, I look back on those times and say something like "Ha, I can't believe I was scared of that, what a dork I was". One example of this is the day I went to a new school in Debden. It has me laughing to this very day. Here is the story:
Now you have to understand the circumstances before you laugh at me.I am a skinny white boy who is leaving the safety of his hometown to go to another school where I will know absolutely no one. Nada. Add to this the fact I have to get up at 7:15 to get ready for the bus, and you have a tired, cranky and frightened kid.
I also have heard stories of the "Frenchies" athletic abilities, and it is something else. The whole town pretty much played every sport under the sun, and were short but tough, or so the stories go. Now they are what people would call "jocks". I was a certified nerd (you can look at my certificate for Geeks International if you want). Now then, Jocks and Nerds generally don't mix well, and this was yet one more reason to be scared. Throw in an hour long bus ride which gives you much time to think what life will be like after wedgies and swirlies, and you get why I was nervous.
When I got to Debden (the new town), I had no clue where to go. I was like a lost puppy in a large city, scared and needing to pee. I followed my cousin into the school, and slowly found my locker. After that I went to my classroom, which happened to be right by my locker, and sat in a seat I hoped wasn't the property of some large goon. The teacher was a big guy, but I considered him an ally cuz he could stop people beating on me. Then I saw a Toronto Maple Leafs poster and lost all hope in this new school.
It started good enough, I had a few looks that made me uncomfortable, but it was going good. Then came noon. I had successfully held my pee in till now, and on my way to the restroom I met one of my classmates. I had only heard him called "Chief", so as I passed him I said "hey Chief" or something equally as cool. Well, he quickly grabbed me and got into my grill. I now really needed to pee. This is how the following conversation went:
"Why did you call me Chief? Only my homeboys call me that."
"Sorry man, I didn't know, I just heard everyone else call you that."
"Well, I guess you can call me that, but be careful."
"Yes sir, thanks sir, gotta go sir."
OK, so that was the first half. Gym now came. Now I love my sports (I have shed my nerd status), but this meant I had to change with a dozen guys I didn't know. This was a little frightening, since they were all scary looking, lippy kids. The took one look at me without my shirt on and kinda chuckled. Well, we were going to play badminton so I could sit out for a while, as there weren't enough courts for everyone to play. Now I sat against the wall, with a kid named Joel on my right, and beside him was a girl named Tanya. There was also another conversation that went something like this:
"Hey Tanya, do you want to date my good friend Jeremy? He's really swell."
I musta looked horrified, cuz I didn't know Joel or Tanya, so I was understandably nervous. Tanya kinda laughed and told him no. Well, Joel now looked shocked. He quickly answered her silent answer with an outburst of anger and hurt.
"Why not!? Jeremy is awesome. I'd date him in a heartbeat."
Now I don't know about you, but this made me very uncomfortable. It seemed to me that Joel is trying to pick me up, and this wasn't what I normally encounter. He was a good-looking guy to most I'm sure, but not to me. I don't swing that way I guess you would say. Anywho, I quickly shut him down, with a face that must have resembled a tomato, and walked to a safer spot. Yes, I was scared, but it makes me laugh every time I hear it.
Everything has turned out well in Debden for me, school has been great and I've made new friends. However, this first day of school will be a blemish on the French school in my mind. Joel and me still talk, and I have found out he's not 3.25% (think milk), so this is a good thing.
Well, I hope that this story will teach you that new things can be scary, but you will overcome it and see that one day it will help you out. I am a little scared to go to Nipawin Bible School, but its nothing I can't overcome. And when I get scared, I remember this one Bible verse which was given to me by a very dear friend of me (thanks a bundle Linsay, and sorry for not going to movie night!).
Joshua 1:9 "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Memories of Marshmallow Wars

Right, since I was remembering older days that have gone by today, I decided to write a short (OK, I have no blinkin' idea on how long it will be) story about a great battle fought in our house once. Yes, this was the infamous Marshmallow War of 03. Oh yes, this was no walk in the park or anything, this was real war. And war hurts. But here goes my story...
Well, it all started when my cousins Casey and Larsson shot me and my bro with these odd, white tubes. And the queer (as in weird, not gay) thing is that they were filled with mini marshmallows! These guns shot these tasty air-filled projectiles at an alarming rate. I mean, if you tried to catch one of those babies in your mouth, you'd choke (which happened to a friend once, more details to follow). Me and my bro were that we begged our old man (for the older people, that means our dad) to make us some. So off he went to whip us up some clever guns, and since he loves making fake guns, he created them flawlessly. Well, when he came and gave us the guns later on, I was stunned. A copper pipe barrel about 15 inches in length, with a copper stock and handle. It had a plastic tube where you inserted the marshmallow, and this went to your mouth. You blew on it much like a tuba or some sorta instrument, and this marshmallow became lethal. Not that it wasn't lethal before, you could choke on them things you know.
Well, me and Derek, my bro, immediately bought bags of marshmallows and pelted each other with the squishy white munchies. Well, we fought each other, and our first team effort was a ambush on my older sister, Rachel, who was talking on the phone. We took her hostage in the main room, and kept her there for quite some time. She sat there for a while, trying to wait us out. Well, it actually worked. I all of a sudden realized I had to pee, so when I went to the bathroom, hope faded. My other older sister, the oldest, jumped Derek! I heard screaming and was in such a hurry to assist my brother-in-arms (literally), that i didn't even was my hands! I know, the brutal savagery of war is inhumane and unethical at the best of times, but sacrifices must be made! Family honor, OK, well, the manliness of or family was on the line. This is worth defending with my life. Anywho, I quickly jumped out of the bathroom and then it happened.
I ran about 10 feet into the battle zone, and saw my brother being tackled and wrestled down by Rachel. Then Melanie, the oldest sister, flying tackled me! No lies even, she gave a manly roar that is second only to my good cousin Kealie (another story maybe, don't get her wrong, pretty and petite little girl) and sacked me! Good thing the couch was there, bless its leathery cushions. I screamed like...well...a little girl who just saw Johnny eating a worm (that's a figure of speech), and tried to get away. She actually used her height...yes, all 5 foot 2 inches of beat me up and bend the solid copper barrel of my gun! One tough girl, like a wolverine on meth I reckon' (not a pretty sight at all). Beaten and bruised, Derek and myself made a hasty retreat while the girls shared a bowl of ice cream or something to gloat over us guys. This remains the Climax of my defeats at home.
Yes, the Great Marshmallow Wars seem primitive now, much like the civil war is to World War 2. Here we had to load these guns by hand, while the new airsoft guns pack more power and are faster loading. Yes, here is a short list of notable mentions in these wars:

1) When Dustin was laughing after getting me with a 'mallow, so I loaded up and I blew as hard as I could. I saw the my 'mallow go quickly into that cursed cavern he calls his mouth, that thing that leads to his phenomenal place doctors call "the bottomless pit". Well, the 'mallow flew straight and true and nearly choked the poor dude.
2) I noticed that old slobbery 'mallows are inaccurate, so I gathered them up, dried them out (we were poor and can't buy new ones every time) and reused them. Dried properly they became rock-hard and shot well. However, this only worked for Kraft Jumbo Marshmallows because they shrunk when they dried. Other brands became too small and fell out of the barrel.

Well, my show is on, so signing off!

Sunday, April 1, 2007

Little Tim (the bear!)

Alright, I have to spice up my blog a little bit, and I had a request from someone to tell one of my many hunting stories. OK, so I didn't have a request, but I think I'll tell it anyway.
It all started sometime in September, 2005. I had hunted bear in the previous year, but for whatever reason it was, I didn't see anything. I mean I didn't hear or even smell a bear. Yes, yes, I know I'm not a pro hunter, but that's no excuse for not seeing a bear. I was frustrated, but relentless as usual. I knew before long I was destined to catch up to a bear, and by gum I'd shoot it dead.
The next fall, I got an offer from a friend and her family to hunt on their land. To say the least, I was pumped. They had seen like 3 or 4 bears the one week alone. And they were all different. Ya, amazing. I was ready to get in my car and drive over there right away, but alas, I had to wait for a few weeks for the season to open.
Right, now I wanted to see this land they offered to let me hunt on. I was scared that they were going to make me hunt on this tiny, dirty, you-go-there-and-you-ain't-coming-back kinda land. However, I put aside these major fears and packed up my stuff to go.
Now then, I wasn't really planning on going hunting. I mean, not on that particular day. I was to go.....scouting. For those who don't know what scouting is, it's when you go running around the country, screaming and running away from large animals that are trying to run you down and eat you for being in their territory. Sounds like lots of fun, eh?
Well, I went to their house and picked up two of the "guides" who would accompany me. They weren't much use as guides. It took us about 10 minutes to find a iddy-biddy piece of land with barley in it. But I forgave them because of what was to come (dramatic piece of music please).
Well, I drove into the approach of this field, and turned off my car. I then observed with my shifty, beady little dark colored eyes as the two passengers chatted furiously. One of them was a girl, so you can't really blame her (it comes natural to them).
Well, I start off with Dustin and Kelcie (that's the girl, Dustin is the guy to you slower people), and we walked on top of a hill. Now this was no ordinary hill, for it was covered in waist-to-chest high barley. Most hills are covered in dirt as you may have observed. But anyway, the view was AWESOME! Now I know that awesome is overused and abused, but this was pure wonderful. Below you at some distance was a thin belt of trees, mainly poplar, around you 360 degrees. There is a small patch of water, a wonderfully blue pond on the neighbouring part of land. You can see parts of 3 towns from up on the hill, some more than 20 miles away. OK, well that's my guess anyway. But it was absolutely breathtaking. Then movement at the bottom of the hill caught my eye.....
At first glance at 500 or more years, it was a black blob. I thought to myself "Geez that's a huge dog." and dismissed it. Then Kelcie noticed it and pointed excitedly at it, yelling at me something like "Look, look, what is that!" and nearly blowing me over. Me, being the strong, silent type, gave her a stern look and then threw her my binoculars. I then threw up my gun as she unfolded the bino's and we looked at this...this...thing at the bottom of the hill. All of a sudden my body realized the shape and my jaw dropped open. "That's no dog, that's a bloody bear!" I told them in a hushed but calm tone. Seeing the bear heading up the hill at an angle into the bush, I decided I was going to risk my neck by cutting it off. I looked back and saw Dustin grinning happily as he looked thru the bino's he stole from Kelcie, and I swear I saw a string of drool hanging from his lower lip. "Creepy." I thought to myself as I turned to look at Kelcie, and saw she looked rather pale.
"Kelcie, whats wrong?"
"Oh man, its a bear...what if it attacks us?"
I looked at her amazed, I thought she'd be all excited. In fact, it looked like she had to pee. I decided to ignore her and head down the hill in an attempt to cut this beast off, shadowed closely by the two totally different siblings.
The bear appeared and disappeared a few times, once showing itself within shooting distance. By now Kelcie was dancing a nervous jig, and whispering garble into my ear. The bear had disappeared and was no where to be found! Yes, this was getting twisted.
All of a sudden my razor-sharp eyes (or maybe it was my sixth-sense, who knows?) noticed movement to my left! It was a bear, a freakin' real bear! I stared in amazement at it for a second, as we all did. The bear was only 80 yards away. the bear all of a sudden reared up on its back feet, looking directly at us and...sniffing! Ya, real scary. I threw up my plastic gun (OK, so it has a synthetic stock, but feels like plastic) and pointed it at the heathen animal. The showdown had begun.
Now I have no clue what the bear was thinking, probably something like "What are these ugly, naked things standing up for"? Of course, we weren't naked, but didn't' have hair like it. Get your minds out of the gutter people. Anywho, I was staring at the bear thru my scope, calmer than a cucumber. OK, so my heart was beating like a death metal bands drummer who is trying to kill his bass drum by beating on it faster than the brain can handle. Needless to say, the time had come for one of us to die, and I wasn't planning on dying this fine day.
BANG! I pulled the trigger and three things happened. The bear hurdled itself backwards after the bullet thudded into its chest, my muscular shoulder absorbed the recoil and Kelcie went running at a breakneck pace up the hill. While the wounded beast crawled into the bush, I screamed at Kelcie to stop and take my keys. Her job had gone from screaming to jumping into the car and making sure that the bear didn't cross the road. As Kelcie ran to my car (still yelling) I turned to Dustin, who was looking at me with reverence, which needless to say made me quite uncomfortable. I snapped him out of it by placing my hunting knife into his hands and punching him in the shoulder.
"Dustin, you with me?" I screamed, and he nodded, the same piece of drool hanging there. After a minute, I turned to the lumbering giant of a boy, and the conversation went exactly like this:
"Alright buddy, we have to go in after the bear if it hasn't ran across the road. Now don't get excited, this could be the end of us, a bear that has a bullet in it usually isn't too happy."
Dustin nodded quickly.
"OK, so do you feel like dying young, cuz this could happen ya know."
"Better to die young an' healthy than old an' wrinkly." Farmer wisdom, can't argue with it.
We ventured off into the bush, stopping to look at some blood left behind. As we walked on a fallen tree, I slipped and nearly fell onto the bear! My hand shot to my side, desperately trying to grab the knife that wasn't there. Dustin stood laughing, waiting for me to get mauled by the beast. You know he ain't getting anything out of this, he just wants to tell my parents my last words were "Dustin, you take all my money, OK"? Ya, that's the thanks I get for getting rid of a problem bear. Then I realized the bear was dead, so I kinda calmed down.
As I took the knife to tag the bear, Kelcie ran up. I had blood on my hands, and had a knife sticking in the bear. Some scene you can imagine. She was nearly leaping with excitement, asking me what I shot the bear with.
"My knife." I said in my best impersonation of Hawkeye Pierce from M*A*S*H. Do this day I don't know why she gave me that look she did, maybe it was my accent? I dunno, wasn't too concerned about it.
Anyway, I got the bear home thanks to Kelcie and Dustin's dad, who drove it home. I would have taken it with my car, but I kinda thought it might look weird to a DNR officer and vouched to let Dale (the papa), drive it home in a truck. I grabbed my uncle and he skinned the bear with a little help from me and my dad. It wasn't a monster, but it did the trick. Pretty good for a guy who just meant to scout out the land, eh? Anyways, its now a rug on the back of my couch, and it tends to get more attention that me! I shoulda never named it, maybe that woulda helped. I think that he's sore that I shot him, he keeps annoying my friends when we watch movies. Oh well, what goes around, comes around I suppose.