We are only a few Saturdays past the new year’s dawn. Already it feels like I’m falling behind. There is so much that needs to be done to be ready for the Great Hunt. Today, with nothing spectacular planned and lacking ability to sleep in, I made myself a hearty breakfast of Biscuits and Gravy, loaded up on coffee, and headed north to the Dixon Muzzleloading Shop (
http://www.dixonmuzzleloading.com). Two men working the store guided a surprising number of shoppers through the store packed with various and sundry goods for shooting off out-of-date weaponry. I started a kit there today, in a gasketed dry box (made in the U.S. by MTM) of all the things I wish I had just a few weeks back, when I and my friend Frizzen got just about everything we could get stuck in the barrel of a gun stuck down the barrel of our gun. I have a tool designed to pull out stuck ammo, to remove cleaning patches that slipped off the ramrod, a device that delivers FFFF powder to the pan reliably, and a brass hammer for knapping flints. I also picked up a couple of “Pioneer Press” books on how not to shoot your eye out while learning to use a flintlock.
From there, since I was in the neighborhood, I went to a certain HUGE sporting goods store that starts with the letter C. Moving from Dixon to this place was akin to the difference between the old downtown streets imagined in movies of the 1950s and going into a Walmart. I felt sick. My mind tends to associate outdoorsy ideas with Americana. This is wrong. Outside of a pair of woolen socks, I found nothing made outside of China or some other developing nation that trades slave labor for cheap goods. Even the famous Woolrich brand red-and-black plaid flannel jacket was imported. I left with my socks and a Hav-a-Hank bandana.
Satisfied for today, and wearing a new orange hat, it’s time for laundry and playoff football.
No comments:
Post a Comment