Re: What gives with Westwinds?
Posted: Sat Mar 02, 2019 4:47 pm
[quote]the second left off 590[/quote]
umm .. second left was renamed "Garbutt Road" at some point - I don't
remember it being called that, but if you turn left there, then right on
Holomego Road (when did they rename that?) you can wave at my
cousin. We own the land on both sides.
First left on the top of the hill by the graveyard is Winslow. I remember
the Winslows - our neighbours, across the road. They had a German
Shepherd that I was rather fond of. In a platonic way, understand.
My grandfather's older brother, "Trapper Joe" built the core of the original
farmhouse, over 100 years ago. He was quite a character, and ended up
in Churchill MB if memory serves. It would be an understatement to say
that Uncle Joe loved the outdoors. They built them tough, back then. Not
pussies, like today.
Many fond memories of that farm. I remember as a small child, I spent a
lot of time shooting the semi-automatic .22 rifle of my other grandfather's,
that I would carry with me on the flight. One day, when no one was around,
I snuck off to the back 40 with my father's .308 Winchester. It had a scope.
It was bad-ass. I had no clue what I was doing.
Tucking my eye tight into the scope, and the butt very loose into my shoulder
like the .22 (which had no recoil), I pulled the trigger on my very first centerfire
cartridge.
Holy shit. No ear protection, of course. That .308 sounded like thunder, and
kicked like a mule into my shoulder, and the scope just about peeled my right
eyebrow off. Hurt like hell.
I was in love.
Ah, the things we did, when we were 10 years old. I was such a goddamned
Pussyâ„¢, learning to fly on a 210hp fuel-injected constant-speed prop Maule.
[img width=500 height=317][/img]
You probably think they're pussies, too, but one of them is a very interesting
world record holder, on the subject of center-fire cartridges.
umm .. second left was renamed "Garbutt Road" at some point - I don't
remember it being called that, but if you turn left there, then right on
Holomego Road (when did they rename that?) you can wave at my
cousin. We own the land on both sides.
First left on the top of the hill by the graveyard is Winslow. I remember
the Winslows - our neighbours, across the road. They had a German
Shepherd that I was rather fond of. In a platonic way, understand.
My grandfather's older brother, "Trapper Joe" built the core of the original
farmhouse, over 100 years ago. He was quite a character, and ended up
in Churchill MB if memory serves. It would be an understatement to say
that Uncle Joe loved the outdoors. They built them tough, back then. Not
pussies, like today.
Many fond memories of that farm. I remember as a small child, I spent a
lot of time shooting the semi-automatic .22 rifle of my other grandfather's,
that I would carry with me on the flight. One day, when no one was around,
I snuck off to the back 40 with my father's .308 Winchester. It had a scope.
It was bad-ass. I had no clue what I was doing.
Tucking my eye tight into the scope, and the butt very loose into my shoulder
like the .22 (which had no recoil), I pulled the trigger on my very first centerfire
cartridge.
Holy shit. No ear protection, of course. That .308 sounded like thunder, and
kicked like a mule into my shoulder, and the scope just about peeled my right
eyebrow off. Hurt like hell.
I was in love.
Ah, the things we did, when we were 10 years old. I was such a goddamned
Pussyâ„¢, learning to fly on a 210hp fuel-injected constant-speed prop Maule.
[img width=500 height=317][/img]
You probably think they're pussies, too, but one of them is a very interesting
world record holder, on the subject of center-fire cartridges.