My Sunday PART I

Alright. Yesterday was pretty interesting. After a nice morning of talking to Momo, drinking coffee, and reading the New Yorker (which I receive on the cover date, which pisses me off but that is a different issue, for different time.) This cowboy, Larry, who is sort of courting me stopped by. I was in my pjs and he wanted to know why I hadn't called him to have a horseback riding lesson. I made a plan with him to play pool Monday night at 7 at the Eagle's Nest (no, not summer camp) the bar here in Lakeview. Fast-forward, I am in my car heading out of town to hike in the Fremont National Forest. Larry calls. I tell him what I am doing and he offers to come and to bring some guns to shoot. Ok. Sure. I turn around and pick him up.

We ride into the Forest which is only about 20 miles from town. I am nervous to shoot guns and decide to get psyched by putting on Good News for the People. At about song 7, Larry is like, "Is this music?" I respond with, "Yes, this is Modest Mouse." I mean, how could anyone listen to that album and not get excited, seriously. Larry then tells me he doesn't like mice.

We get to Mud Creek and get out of the car. We open the back and out of his saddlebag he takes two hand guns each in a holster with bullets all around the belt area. One of the guns looks like a old west toy and the other was sort of chunky and silver with a wooden handle. And then he asks me if I want to wear one. Absolutely. So I strap it on. And then he gives me a 357 magnum rifle gun. And he grabs the larger rifle gun.

And we start walking. It was a sight to see. There was Larry in all natural fibers: black cowboy boots with pointy toes and heels and no traction, tight jeans, flannel shirt, carhartt jacket, silk scarf around his neck, no gloves and a cowboy hat (not like the one you would picture, they are different here, they have a wide rim that is flat and the same distance from the middle.) And there I was, dressed for a solo hike, I was wearing crampon compatible winter hiking boots, gators, softshell pants and jacket (which are windproof and highly breathable), gloves, and a windproof fleece hat. So ridiculous.

And we walked and talked and examined animal tracts, and talked about guns, and snow was falling. Very, very peaceful. And every once in a while we (I, I always chose when) we would stop and shoot guns. Now, before yesterday I had only ever shot one gun. Once. I think I have only ever touched maybe three guns in my entire life. Let me tell you it is some rush to shoot a gun. The hand guns were really creepy in that I felt sort of like a cop and sort of like Charlie's Angels. There is some so palpable about the power you feel when you shoot a gun. I can't really imagine what it is like to hunt or be in the army and shoot some sort of enemy. Yuck. And then I shot one of the rifles. I like the rifle the best. My shots were not accurate which I blame on my eyesight. When I was shooting the rifle I kept thinking about bi athletes and how that must be close to impossible to have your heart at like 140 beats a minute and then slow down and shoot a target.

It was a enjoyable outing. And I am sure we will do it again. Next time, though, I am going to bring and wear earplugs.