"A Popsicle gun"

Black powder is addicting. Not as addicting as some white powders I’ve heard of, but still.

I’ve built one flintlock rifle from a kit. I’ve got a Civil War-style revolver in the shop for timing adjustment and I think I’ve decided on my next project:

A Popsicle gun.

Actually it’s a "handgonne." See, the first handheld firearms were basically small cannons mounted on big sticks. Like Popsicles. These came into use around 1300, according to some accounts, and are still in use by some eccentric gonners who are just like that.

(That’s me).

I’m still shopping around, and it takes some doing. You don’t find them at your average hardware store. Instead, you go to www.handgonne.com (intuitively named, eh?) or www.handgonnes.com… or if you want video: www.handgonne.com/images/zeus_3.mpg.

Enough links. If you want more, go to my blog – jderrickstar.blogspot.com.

You really do have to go to the Internet to sustain this hobby. Let’s say I want some small flints for my flintlock. I haven’t found any locally. And if I drive an hour to the big sports store in Concord, they have them for a 500 percent markup over what they cost online.

More links to John’s favorite black powder suppliers on the blog….

On MuzzleloadingForum.com there’s currently a discussion about getting more folks into the hobby.

They’re also discussing "spontoon axes" and which sort of coonskin cap would be period correct for the spring of 1836. I dunno.

Personally I’ve given at least half a dozen folks their first time on a flintlock. I went out with it this past weekend with our Webmaster, Chad, and his girlfriend’s mom’s boyfriend, George.

Chad had already fired my flintlock and George had previously shot muzzleloaders, but this was his first time on my kit-built rifle. He liked it. And blew a massive hole in a deer target.

But what’s funny is the number of folks who don’t want to try your muzzleloader because they’re scared.

I’m at some range impressed by some other fellow’s slick deer rifle with a massive scope on it or some other guy’s collection of classic military weapons…. I ask the guy plinking away with his .22 if he wants to try mine and he doesn’t want to get anywhere near the flaming, smoking beast in action.

I’m just some newbie amateur and they must think I’m John Wayne!

So now I want to try my hand with an even earlier incarnation of the gun. I’ll keep you posted and keep putting vids and pics on my blog. If you haven’t checked out the one from last, time it’s a blast….

"Booyah"

"Hi mein Sunnybunny. Here’s Mommeli."

Yes, my Mom uses pet names. Don’t pretend yours doesn’t.

Yes, we randomly insert German words and phrases into regular conversation. Maybe you don’t do that.

Nobody’s perfect.

"I just wanted to let you know that not only you can swim 26 laps."

Ohhh. The gauntlet is down.

My family is full of swimming folk. Dad was a state championship swimmer in high school and went on to letter at Georgia Tech. I swam competitively for years and have joined my dad on several swims across the 3.5-mile-wide Pamlico River.

When my uncle was little they knocked the bottom out of his crib and set it half on the beach, half in the water so he could adjust to swimming at an early age.

There is no tide on the Pamlico.

And my German-born mother won’t soon be stealing any podiums from Michael Phelps, but she’s giving me a workout.

Swimming is great exercise for someone whose body is no longer the best suited for mountain climbing or ultramarathons.

It’s hard to get hurt swimming. Unless you drown.

Water, which according to a bunch of sites I just Googled, is something like 800 times denser than air, provides sufficient resistance to really work your muscles, but isn’t hard enough to subject you to the shock of really hitting anything. That means I won’t tear up my knees swimming, which is good cause I’m busy ripping them up with everything else I do.

So I guess swimming is one of those sports you can pretty much do all your life. Thinking about it, you were actually doing it before you were born, floating around….

Um, speaking of Mommies, mein ist now in a friendly competition with me. Hardcore swimmers would scoff at our times and distances, but it’s good exercise and we’re enjoying it – she’ll swim 22 lengths of a 25-meter pool, so I swim 24. So she swims 26….

We may have to handicap me, as I’m significantly younger/more foolhardy (she just had her birthday – Happy Birthday, Mom!). I dunno, maybe I have to swim double her distances, perhaps do it with cinderblocks around my ankles.

So she left me a voicemail yesterday taunting me with her recent aquatic exploit – 26 lengths.

So I went out last night and swam 27.

Um, I think the expression is… (I hope I get this right), "Booyah"…?

I’m actually no good at trash talking. Lemme get some help from our sports desk….

Click! Hiss! Bang!

http://www.shelbystar.com/video/John/
shooting%20clip%202%20032106.wmv

Addressing a comment from Alan’s blog….

"Maybe when you young fellows grow up, you'll understand what it takes to fight and win a war. The problem with your generation…"

What it takes to win a war? It take my generation:
http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2003/iraq/forces/casualties/2006.02.html

Running the numbers for February, the average coalition fatality was 24 years old, just like me. And that’s six years older than the voting age as dictated by the 26th amendment, which guarantees our 18-year-olds who serve and die as soldiers the right to vote as active, constructive, questioning citizens.
http://www.archives.gov/national-archives-experience/charters/constitution_amendments_11-27.html#26

Are you suggesting we’re too young to effectively fight our wars, as we always have?

Which generations shall we send? Yours? You?

I volunteered. Until I was dismissed for having poor eyesight I was an Army cadet at UNC.
http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c23/jderrick/jduniform.jpg

Hooaah.

"it’s WWIII, the Russians are coming..."

So I was stalking through the fieldhouse at the Shelby Police Department shooting range last week.

With a gun.

Specifically, a little air pistol the officers were using to teach folks about what they do as part of their Citizen’s Police Academy. I’ve got some video linked from my blog: jderrickstar.blogspot.com.

You strap on a vest, holster and training weapon and are tasked to investigate an unexpected disturbance in the building. Up pops a poster of some guy aiming a pistol at me and I nail him.

As the next guy is popping up I register he’s holding some big black thing aimed at me with a strap hanging down…

When I was training with an M-16 in ROTC (before I got kicked out for having bad eyes and then became a photographer….), when the target popped up 300 meters away I didn’t have to positively identify exactly who they were, what they were doing and their mother’s maiden name. I didn’t have to know the exact make of the large black dangerous-looking machine they were aiming at me… it’s WWIII, the Russians are coming and everyone in front of me needs shooting before they shoot me.

So I instinctively light up the second pop-up target like Christmas tree.

It was a photographer.

The attending officer did compliment my marksmanship, though.

The exercise shows the stresses and split-second, life or death decisions officers face. Such are the difficulties of having to simultaneously serve as a soldier and diplomat and such is my corresponding level of respect for the brave folks who do.

The drill also shows why you shouldn’t sneak up on me in a dark room.

After I got photos and video of a few more folks going through, including our cops reporter

Graham (who also shot the photographer), I asked one of the officers if they knew of any local ranges where I could fire my kit-built flintlock muzzleloading black powder Kentucky rifle. Long terminology for a long rifle.

He suggested a place in Kings Mountain that it turns out has a pistol range, but not one for rifles.

But the helpful fellow there recommended another place within an easy drive of Shelby.

So I had a great, safe time one recent morning putting smoke down range. Though I’ve been out shooting the .50 cal with my Dad and officemates Chris and Chad, this was my first time on a defined range and I had a blast

Three out of five rounds into a 15 x 20 inch piece of cardboard at 50 yards is hardly sniper-like, but I’m still figuring out how this piece shoots (a little low, I think. Photos on the blog….), getting used to the distractions of a smoking, flaming flintlock and am still pleasantly surprised when it actually goes off.

And yes, the target was drawn up like a photographer.

Video of Civilian's Police Academy shooting exercise....

http://www.shelbystar.com/video/John/shootingexercise.wmv

Photos from the Civilian's Police Academy....

Cawthon. Graham Cawthon, cops reporter at The Star.....

And here's me....

Target....

Yep... three out of five rounds hit at 50 yards on a cola case. Not great marksmanship, but I'm still getting used to shooting a muzzleloader.

The marker was dying, so the drawing of the photographer didn't come out too great....

Forestfire fighting links….

Because giant waterbombers and jumping out of airplanes into fires just seems fun....

http://www.martinmars.com/mars.html
http://www.borealforest.org/world/innova/aerial_history.htm
http://www.smokejumpers.com/
http://www.fs.fed.us/fire/people/smokejumpers/

Burning marshmallow to the forehead....

Following a small fire at Crowders Mountain that was really not very photogenic (sorry about those photos, folks), I’m poking around www.smokeybear.com.

Though it pains me to split with the great, bear-fearing Stephen Colbert on this one, I think Smokey’s a pretty good bear. The Web site has a variety of info on how some small fires are environmentally beneficial, information on outdoor safety and tips on how to prevent forest fires…

• If smoking is permitted outdoors, safe practice requires a 3-foot clearing around the smoker.
And don’t put your butt out in dried leaves. That should be really self-evident.

• Don't park your vehicle on dry grass.
Yeah, I’ve heard of that lighting fires before. Still, I wind up pulled over by the side of the road some covering events and accidents for my job, but it’s usually on short roadside grass….

• If off-road vehicle use is allowed, internal combustion equipment requires a spark arrester.
I drive a Camry. Not usually an issue.

• Know your county's outdoor burning regulations. Unlawful trash burning is a punishable offense.
Yeah, we hear these a lot on the scanner….

• At the first sign of a wildfire, leave area immediately by established trails or roads. Contact a Ranger as soon as possible. If escape route is blocked, go to the nearest lake or stream.
At the first sign of a wildfire, I’m breaking out the smores! Or maybe not.

• Leave campsite as natural as possible, traveling on trails and other durable surfaces.
Yeah, that’s the whole "leave no trace" thing…. "Take only photographs, leave only footprints."

• Inspect your site upon leaving.
Maybe you’ll find some of my old tent stakes that I screwed up and missed.

• Never take burning sticks out of a fire.
But that’s half the fun! What about burning marshmallows? I remember one trip where my friends were enjoying flinging the burning balls of sugar into the lake… when one got loose and stuck me on the forehead. In retrospect, yeah, never take burning sticks out of a fire….

• Never take any type of fireworks on public lands.
The best place for fireworks is on a pier. Or at least that’s how we do it in Eastern North Carolina.

• Keep stoves, lanterns and heaters away from combustibles.
Remember the Hindenburg?

• Store flammable liquid containers in a safe place.
They’re called "Molotov Cocktails" after a foreign minister of the Soviet Union, which the Finns used them against. Touching story, really.

• Never use stoves, lanterns and heaters inside a tent.
Because carbon monoxide isn’t half as tasty as it sounds….

Why is there so much crime and chaos in the media?

Well, there are a couple of reasons....

First, chaos is more impacting than tranquility.

There are millions of cars that don't blow up every day in Iraq, but it's the ones that do that are news. I'm sure there are a lot of really great things going on in the Middle East, but it's the assassinations, bombings and other associated craziness that threaten the stability of the region and that thus matter to the average American.

Papers and programs could cover only the cute kids and puppies of our efforts in Iraq, but that would be irresponsibly ignoring the negative things going on. In some small town with violence problems, should a paper just ignore what's going on, watch it getting worse and run pictures of flowers or let folks know about the shootings and stabbings and maybe help some changes take place for the better?

I'm sure that following Katrina there were lots of cities that weren't flooded. But just as Patterson Springs didn't really need any Coast Guard choppers rescuing folks from their roofs, the small, dry town wasn't really worth a lot of news coverage at the time, either. The story, the human drama, the need for government accountability and media coverage was in the Gulf, so
that's where I was sent.

That's not to say there's not a place for cuteness and pretty colors in print and on TV, but weighing the importance of covering some genocide versus a cute toddler, nobody's going to die because you didn't get to see that adorable kid.

Secondly, media outlets aren't stupid. They know the numbers.

When we put a video online, we can tell how many folks looked at it. Those nice, charity-feature-warm-feeling-inside vids get a couple hundred views. Max.

But should a news outlet cover a shooting? A fire? The third high-speed LA freeway chase of the week?

Folks say they don't want this stuff, but we're talking thousands of hits.

A few good shots from an SHS practice....

"I should really, really never do heroin."

Well folks, sorry, but I haven’t really done anything interesting in the past week.

I mean, going to the Triangle for the NC Press awards was enlightening and on the blog, jderrickstar.blogspot.com, being in webmaster Chad’s truck when the drive shaft fell out was entertaining ("Thanks, glad to be able to entertain you" – Chad) , and helping managing editor Alan Jenkins pack and ship his mum’s three-bedroom house to south Georgia were interesting experiences, but not really outdoors related.

And if I don’t fit something outdoorsy in here folks will talk, some to me, mostly to sports guru Alan Ford, so hmmm….

Most folks in the office know I have a certain affinity for cola. A simple look in the break room aluminum recycling bin shows a dominance by my favorite flavor.

Sam’s Choice, precisely. Not shaken, not stirred.

It’s cheap. It’s caffeine. It’s kept me going through college, a job, another job… and on the long uncaffeinated day of the press awards I noticed I was going through withdrawal.

During the banquet (I won a wine-making kit in a silent auction) I noticed a growing headache.

Though harder beverages were served along with water and tea, they weren’t a factor. For a while I wondered about my sinuses, but then I realized I hadn’t had a soda all day.

Which makes me start thinking. If I was on a long hike, or on some other wilderness trip, or stranded on a deserted island would my appreciation of (slight addiction to) caffeine be a problem?

How about you other outdoorsy folks? Any takes of cigarette cravings in the wilds of Alaska, Appalachian Trail chocoholics? Wanna write a column on it? Please? I’ll give you soda….

I’ve heard about folks backpacking with six-packs of beer, only to have their shaken brews explode at the high altitudes of scenic mountaintops. The old, hereby nameless, boy scout who told me that then advocated use of hard liquor in small flasks as a lightweight alternative, but I’ve hereunto just taken his word for it.

I’ve not noticed caffeine being too large a factor for my outdoorsy exploits in the past, but I sure enjoyed tossing back some soda when I got home from press awards that night.

Yeah, it was 1 a.m.

It’s okay, I’ve fallen asleep halfway through a cola before.

But really, this stuff isn’t good for you. In fact it’s really not good for you.

And then came Lent, and the discussion of folks giving up their little pleasures/sins/hobbies for 40 days… and my beloved soda wound up on the block.

"I did that one year. I was not a happy camper, but I did it," said photo editor Jeff.

"Thanks for the encouragement," thought John, "can we all just talk a little more softly…."

I’ve got a headache.

I should really, really never do heroin.

John's Weekend....

Well, Chad was driving Alan and I to Alan's Mom's place in Concord. She's moving down to southern Georgia to be close to some more family after her husband passed away.

Coming off 485 we get to a light at the end of the exit. The light goes green, Chad goes to the pedal and suddenly the truck starts shaking violently and screaming like a tortured demon. We hop out and his drive shaft has fallen off. I've still got pieces on my bedside table as souveniers.

A cop came. Alan's mom came and picked us up and get the U-haul. Alan helped me back it to the door of the three bedroom house and we packing it and it hurt and it was a long day and it's late....

Maybe more later....

"Study: Few Americans Know 1st Amendment"

Well this is kinda sad...

"CHICAGO - Americans apparently know more about "The Simpsons" than they do about the First Amendment...."

news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060301/ap_on_re_us/
freedom_poll;_ylt=AtIyDueGp7xRBNUzK7xUqGKs0NUE;_ylu
=X3oDMTA3ODdxdHBhBHNlYwM5NjQ-

So here you go:
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.