Wednesday, March 11, 2009

A Day InThe Park

I know everybody got worried because you thought i was going to write about me skipping in a field and picking flowers. WRONG! When a male has the privilege of carrying the last name Fowler, more often then not he is a Sasquatch who like to destroy things. This particular day we were destroying little paper targets. They had done nothing wrong but none the less they became the confetti for redneck ruckus.

Most conversations i have with my father have very little to do with anything. They consist of mostly small talk about church or people we have come in contact with in random places. Saturday morning when i answered the phone you can imagine my surprise when the conversation involved firearms. Not only was he going to shoot guns, but so was our family friend Clayton, and most importantly, my brother Eli (see number 12 in previous post)!

Eli was going to site in a new scope he put on one of his high powered thunder sticks, so naturally we would use that as an excuse to waste ammo while simultaneously solidifying our manhood. What could be more manly than shooting a gun? Eli also was the guide for our expedition, because none of us had any idea were this shooting range was.He failed to mention that it actual took an hour to get there and required two to four miles on a pothole filled gravel path that could be considered a road in Alabama (maybe).



When our foursome finally beheld the range upon which we would be reeking our havoc, we found that ,even in the middle of nowhere, we were not alone. There were two other categories of shooter sharing the range with us. The first was a family of four who were out teaching their eldest how to use his new pellet rifle. This is the learning category. When he and his youngest brother saw our arsenal they were awestruck at the size of our weapons. Once we started shooting they realized that the bigger the toys the louder the noise, and subsequently stopped liking our guns. The second was a man that really had no reason to be there other than "shootin stuff". This is the "bubba" category. The way he passed most of his time was offloading round after round from his shotgun ,at no particular target, and making loads of noise.

Our mission was accomplished. By the time we left, Eli's assault rifle was a well honed devastation maker, and we had emptied clip after clip from rifle and handgun alike. We were not always orthodox in our methods, but we all had a blast.






Rest assured that our day on the range would not be considered "normal" by most. The only thing you should know is that for the Fowler Family it was just another day in the park.


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