Some of my neighbors on the lake don't share my enthusiasm for guns and gunfire.

I'm 22 miles north of Boston and Logan International Airport and when the air is right I can easily hear the reverse thrust of those jets upon landing... let alone that we have almost continuous jet traffic throughout the day and night. I could easily do without that too.

I have a similar problem along the little river my cabin sits along (is something dangling?). Luckily I can legally hunt birds within a mile or two of my home and along the same river. Oregon's government is dominated by liberals while the population, at least in Central Oregon, is pro gun, pro hunting. liberals have passed no gun laws here and there and I happened to live on one of those places.

Sad.

a friend of mine was coon hunting the other nite..about 1 in the morning the dods finally treed a coon thed been running for over 2 hours...bout the time my friend and party arrived at the tree they had company...a man that lived about a half a mile away came up riding a 4 wheeler with his gun and told the dogs owners to get them there dods outta there for there loud barking had woke him up and he did not like the dogs making so much racket...i guess what use to be music to some has become not so musical to others...enough said the owners snapped chains on there dogs and led them to the truck..even coon hunters and dogs barking bother some people...what are we to do.... charlie

ps ive been waiting for that fellow who trys to run me off my qwn land.... charlie

Charlie- my friend- just be careful.
 

It's a sad fact of life today, but a true one- we are in the minority, those of us who love the land, guns, dogs, hunting and grew up with friendly rural neighbors that never posted or closed their lands to other neighbors or friends. I was shooting woodchucks about 5-6 years ago- May- on a family farm where I've been not just an invited guest to shoot, but to share meals, coffee, process deer- etc. Some 'hired hand" with a God complex drove up to my parked Jeep and tried to tell me a fairy tale that only he now had permission to hunt. A short 'come to Jesus meeting" with the farmer set that load of crap straight. Here's what concerned to me however.

I do have a CCW and sometimes carry, but never when I have a rifle or shotgun and am out afield. I was standing there on land I had written and documented permission upon which to hunt whenever I chose to (within the legal seasons of course) and this idiot comes out unarmed and full of &*^^ and vinegar. I was holding my Dad's old M70 SG in .220 Swift, not my first choice for a CQC weapon, but this idiot was obviously on drugs (he later lost his job) and must have gotten out of the bed on the wrong side that morning. End of story- But--he had some heavy tools in the back of the JD gator- if he had picked up an axe and come at me with it, I am not sure what I might have done, in self-defense. Laws and courts and juries are hard to predict too- so, be careful.

I have some 12 empties for you- also a 12 BA turkey gun which I will cover in a PM to you- stay well, and keep muzzles on those Walkers- not as much fun however as a "Full cry" pursuit--:bigbye:

I was a college kid. Me and a few buddies were camping along the Yuba river near Downyville, CA. We looked across the river and saw a rock face with a doorway carved into it. We took off our shoes and socks and waded across. Slippery, cold.

When we got the mind door we opened it and stepped inside. We walked back maybe 30 feet. At the end we saw drill bits and football sized chunks of quartz rock. We each picked one up and turned to leave. When we stepped out into the sunlight there was an old guy there and a women who was some younger, but no fold out. The man held a shovel. The women said the mine was hers, she had inherited it and that she'd never been inside. The man told us to drop the rocks, and then he made a move to attack us with the shovel.

I was wearing a pistol on my hip. Not a big gun, a Ruger Bearcat that I'd paid $36 for the day I turned 16, which was how old you had to be to buy a pistol in Calif in those bygone days.

The man was taking aim at my buddy, the smallest guy, when the lady saw my gun, which I was still holstered. She said something to the old fellow and the matter changed immediately. All of a sudden I had the hammer. We dropped the rocks and waded back across and that was that.

If I had not packed that pistol? Well, who knows.