The Beginning - With No End

Everybody has a story. Everybody’s story is interesting to me. I spent 35 years running up and down the highways of Canada and America collecting stories, delivering freight, and reading books. Over 3000 books. Truckloads of magazines. And vocalizations. Thousands and thousands of conversations.

The easiest way to learn something - if you can keep yer own trap shut - is to ask a person what they know besides what their job is. Put yer teeth and lips together, yer butt in a chair, and grab a coffee . . .

How did this hunting former truck driver, hitch hiker, bookworm get into long range shooting competition/PRS? One line in a book - was a hook. In “25 Cent Killer” the author said that they were shooting 200 rounds per day, and - “Pretty soon 600 yards got to be a gimme . . .” 

The notion that anything far far away could be a gimme became so intriguing that I bought a varmint/target rifle with a heavy 28” barrel, and stared at it for a year. Then I packed it over to Ronnie’s place, where he had a piece of steel at 750 yards that I’d carried to the far fenceline for him sometime before.

Sitting at the bench on the hill, I thought about how to connect with Mr. Steel. And I thought that if I could do that without someone else setting up my dope, and telling me all I needed to know, I’d pursue long range shooting.

Unfortunately for me, after careful calculation, patience in preparation, women’s intuition(it was a 6.5 Creedmoor - and me without a grown manbun), and a careful trigger press, I hit that steel on my first shot . . . it had begun.

I traded and sold 13 rifles to get into an entry level position, and have twisted, twitched, bucked and shot in 13 states so far. Sometimes it went well, and, well, sometimes . . . not so well. But every match needs a mascot - and I are one!

Every match completed is a graduation and victory!

That varmint /target rifle? It now sports an 18 inch hacksawn tube and a butchered laminate stock, killed deer by the truckload, and looks like it belongs in the battered pickup it rides in in the fall.