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Someone wasn't sure what to think about the white stuff...didn't really want to get off the porch this morning.
Note: Something in this image matches a graphic on the left side of this blog.
Possible small-scale nuke plant disguised as a strip retail center...
Hey, do you suppose someone stole my idea!?
The above specimen is a Dakota Model 10, but New Zealand armsmaker Soroka has similarly worthy (and not inexpensive) offerings. Of course, the closest I come to owning such a work of art is a rather pedestrian Ruger #1, utilizing the same Farquharson falling block design.
Nonetheless, I am not unmoved by Mr. Crane's fascination of rapid-fire technology. In fact, I would love to own one of these:
Sharp eyes will note the historic haunted Baker Hotel in the background...
'Cause the radio won't play George & Merle...
Even without additional instrumentation, imagine how good this guy would sound with a studio recording. Excellent guitar work.
One large cross by the side of FM 1886, between Lakeside and FM 730.
I knew Tyler from the '80s, but didn't become friends with him until the '90s.
He was a generous man, had a great sense of humor, and when he got involved with something, you could be sure he was passionate about it. He could also be absent-minded - he's the only person I know who drove off from a gas pump with the hose still attached to his car...three different times! Yet he told that story on himself.
In the '90s he and his wife renovated a home on Eagle Mountain Lake, on the west side. It was beautiful to unwind at the end of the day from the backyard, without the sun in your eyes, and he had a manicured lawn of St. Augustine. Tyler loved to take his itty-bitty dog, I think its name was Gizmo, on boat rides. The dog wasn't a whole lot bigger than the Mack truck hood ornament, but equally enjoyed riding over the waves.
I took a day trip with Tyler once to Austin, where he was to testify in committee for some legislation he'd had his State Representative introduce. It was an interesting education for me to see how things work (?) in Austin, although I don't think the bill ever made it out of committee. A beautiful spring day, we left the Capitol complex, and were headed down Congress Avenue, to go visit an old friend of Tyler's before we headed back north. The moonroof and windows were wide open on his Mark VIII. At about 4th street, I spotted a leggy woman in a short skirt on roller blades and nudged my friend "Hey, check this chick out!".
Of course, at just that moment, the "woman" turned around to face us - with a full beard! Yeah, it was a dude! Who says they need any help keeping Austin weird? Anyway, Tyler kindly reminded me of that faux pas a couple of times subsequently in the lunch group we frequented.
Later that year, almost exactly ten years ago, he was diagnosed with lung cancer. I visited him in the hospital, and spoke with him a couple times on the phone after that, as it became difficult to visit with him due to my work travel and the more frequent sleep that his body required. He died before Spring came, at the much-too-young age of 53.
I miss my friend, but appreciate the reminder of him when I drive by that sign, and consider it a blessing to have known him.
Some people say I look better this way...
Just in case the allegory isn't fairly obvious, note that Mr. Carroll's father was a Baptist preacher.
Hello!
If I could, I'd buy my son this airplane...
Hey guys, launch the little planes from the dixie cup!
Not exactly deer hunting.
I can't think of a better way to spend a Saturday.
Not knowing if the rifle had been properly sighted in, I shot at the 50 yard range. The extreme spread shown is 2.625". If this grouping had been at 100 yards, I'd be very pleased. As it is, I was having some difficulty getting a good sight picture with my eyeglasses, fading daylight, and the fixed 4x scope. Nonetheless, the rifle appears to be capable of greater accuracy than the person firing it.
Recoil was very tame. I was shooting some necked down .308 case loads that came with the rifle. The reloader's notes indicated that the 75 grain hollow points had been chrono'd at 3400 f/s. Since there were some incipient neck cracks (possibly because the reloader didn't anneal the cases during the sizing/seating operations), and because I have enough actual .243 headstamped brass, I won't reload these cases.
As Denney Crane noted in the prior post comments, small calibers, with the right load and accurately placed, can take a wide range of game animals. And although I've yet to hunt with this particular rifle, I can attest to the fun of uncasing its diminutive stable mate in deer camp, to the hoots of wannabe macho men (with their .338 Win. Magnums, or Weatherby this or that), and returning back to camp the following evening with one deer and one empty cartridge. One shot, one kill.
Next time, I may try a higher power scope than the Weaver K4 (or wear my contact lenses). I think a fixed 6 or 6.5x would be just about right, but will probably just mount an inexpensive 3-9x variable on it.
Note: No poodles, or canines of any kind, were harmed in the testing of the rifle today.
(Remington Model 660, a/k/a the poodle-shooter, .243 Win.)
vs.
(a poodle, supposedly related to the canine family)
Dalton Gang - October 5, 1892
Admittedly, my interest in the Dalton story was sparked by the 1972 Eagles' album Desperado, coupled with the notion that the actions that led to their demise occurred about 20 miles from my birthplace.
On the ground: The Eagles, flanked by Jackson Browne (l), and John David Souther (r)
Only in researching for this post did I find that the album's cover pictures were simply stills from a mini-movie or video shot for concert footage: Note - Some language at the end.
Coalescing the vapors of human existence...