In my first foray into firing weapons, there was only one injury which required treatment at an urgent care facility. The accident was not caused by a discharged firearm, rather it was the unfortunate side affect of the vernal thaw. Josh, in a moment of climbing hubris, slipped on on patch of ice, reached to the slippery pipeline for support, fell on his butt, and wrenched his wrist. Fortunately, after consulting with a nurse practitioner and a radiologist, it was determined that no bones were broken. However, prior to the diagnosis, Josh powered through like Nietsche's superman and spent the afternoon shooting at helpless wilderness creatures and abandoned pipelines. His enthusiasm for marksmanship was key in igniting my interest in frontier rifles.
Initially, I hesitated to shoot a gun, but amidst the arctic wilderness firing rifles and AK-47s felt as right as eating seal blubber for breakfast. I started small- shooting into the air and at inanimate objects. Then, I graduated to... well, I never really graduated. I'm still shooting at empty beer bottles and rusty sheet metal.
Check out the videos and pictures. I'm especially fond of the one where I look like Himmler's understudy... For those who don't know me, I'm not anit-Semitic, just a fan of the obscure reference... Schiess du gut?
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