Boys Will Be Boys Boys Will Be Boys

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fez440

fez440

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Around age 10, my dad got me one of those little badass compound bow beginner kits.

Of course, the first month I went around our land sticking arrows in anything that could get stuck by an arrow.

Did you know that a 1955 40 horse Farmall tractor tire will take 6 rounds before it goes down? Tough sumbich.

That got boring, so being the 10 yr old Dukes of Hazard fan that I was, I quickly advanced to taking strips of cut up T-shirt doused in chainsaw gas tied around the end and was sending flaming arrows all over the place.

One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak stump in our backyard. I looked over under the carport and saw a shiny brand new can of starting fluid (Ether). A light bulb went off in my head. I grabbed the can and set it on the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray out in a controlled manner once pierced by my arrow. Lets face it, to a 10 yr old mouth-breather like myself, (Ether) really doesn't "sound" all that flammable.

So, I went back into the house and got a 1 pound can of pyrodex (black powder for muzzle loader rifles). My intention was to sprinkle a little bit around the (Ether) can but it all sorta dumped out on me. No biggie, a 1 lb. pyrodex and 16 oz (Ether) should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker. You know what? I'm going back in the house for the other can. Yes, I got a second can of pyrodex and dumped it out on the stump too. Now I am cookin'.

I stepped back about 15 ft and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and took aim. As I released I heard a clunk as the arrow launched from my bow. In a slow motion time frame, I turned to see my dad getting out of his truck... He just got home from work. OH SHOOT!

So help me God, it took 10 minutes for that arrow to go from my bow to the can. My dad was walking towards me in slow motion with a WTF look in his eyes.

I turned back towards my target just in time to see the arrow pierce the starting fluid can right at the bottom. Right through the main pile of pyrodex and into the can. Oh wow!!!

When the shock wave hit, it knocked me off my feet. I don't know if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back or just my reflex jerk from 235 fricking decibels of sound. I caught a half a millisecond glimpse of the violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1 ft above the ground as far as I could see. It was a low fog layer full of grasshoppers, spiders, and worms.

The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this: THE FRICKING DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE.

There was a big birch tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was." That sumbich got up and ran off.

So here I am, on the ground blown completely out of my shoes with my thundercats T-Shirt shredded, my dad is on the other side of the carport having what I can only assume is a Vietnam flashback:

ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOU'RE BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. DARN IT, CEASE FIRE!!!"

His hat has blown off and is 30 ft behind him in the driveway. All windows on the north side of the house are blown out and there is a slow rolling mushroom cloud about 2000 ft. over our backyard.

There is a Honda 185 3-wheeler parked on the other side of the yard and the fenders are drooped down now, touching the tires.

I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this moment. I don't know - I know I said something. I couldn't hear. I couldn't hear inside my own head. I don't think he heard me either... not that it would really matter. I don't remember much from this point on. I said something, felt a sharp pain, and then woke up later. I felt a sharp pain, blacked out again, woke up later... repeat this process for an hour or so and you get the idea. I remember at one point my mom had to give me CPR, and Dad screaming "Bring him back to life so I can kill him again!!!" Thanks Mom.

One thing for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again. Mom had been complaining about that thing for years and dad never did anything about it. You gotta give me credit for stepping up to the plate and taking care of business.

Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later.

I still have some sort of bone growth abnormality, either from the blast or the beating, or both.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into archery. But only under close supervision. It will teach you parental responsibility.
 
I'm cryin here!! That's a fabulous story -- I can almost smell the pyrodex and toasted grasshoppers now.

So tell me one more thing. Did you ever blow anything else up after that?
 
That kind of reminds me of my youth. I was about 14 when we were dabbling in making our own black powder. Of course we were never happy with little bangs so things progressed to larger and larger booms. We did the customary garbage cans but that got old fast. Next, we started blowing up trees. we started with little 2 inchers. We got braver and braver and stopped that when we started blowing up 6 to 8 inch trees. The heat was getting a little heavy so we laid low for a while. Well one night we were talking and we decided to give it one last shot. One of the guys swiped this wooden 5 gallon barrel and we proceeded to fill it with the last of our powder. It was the middle of winter and the ice on the river was about 2 feet thick. We dragged the barrel out there and stuck our fuse wire in the little hole. (We were ahead of our time, we used electric current to set them off). We only had about 50 ft of wire so we went back that far, layed down and dug out the battery. One of us was stupid enough to touch the contacts, (I'm not going to say who). After the snow and ice finished raining down on us, we raised our heads and the edge of the hole which was full of ice cold water was only about 10 feet away. We quickly checked each other to make sure we were in one piece, got up and ran like hell. My ears rang for 2 days. After about an hour, there were flashing lights everywhere. We had long left the scene but we could see what was going on and laughing our butts off. We made the paper, not by name, but the story was that the cops were trying to find out the cause of the mysterious explosion. We kept our mouths shut of course. This was all fine until one of the guy's younger brother got a hold of one of our little gems and blew a couple of fingers off. We all paid for that with parts of our hide. One of the parents was able to put 2 and 2 together and we also caught it for the big explosion. Amazing that any of us ever got to grow up.

Jack
 
Now that's f@#king FUNNY!!! as I wipe the tears out of my eye's
 
Yep, similar story here, but we were making pipe bombs and blowing grapefruit stumps out of the ground on the farm in Palm Harbor, Fl.
My ex and I gave our son a beginners archery set when he was about 11 or 12. The FIRST rule I told him was do not shoot an arrow straight up in the air. I guess, in retrospect, it just put the idea in his head. Well, we had an above ground swimming pool (you guessed it) and I came home to find an arrow imbedded in the bottom of the pool. James, my son, NEVER saw that archery set again!
 
it's a universal illness , we collected powder from shotgun shells into a large plastic aspirin bottle and blew a crater in the beach on Canada day while the fireworks were going , they stopped the fireworks to find out what happened and make sure the Russians weren't attacking , and as for the old match head pipe bombs well lets just say that one of the local lads has 2 fingers that look like little *****'s from hammering the lid on a coffee can full of wooden match heads and black powder , and he was supposed to be the smart one in the neighbourhood .
 
Great stories here!! LMAO!! When I was around 11 0r 12 at the end of our road was a back way to get into the local dump. Well being a Sunday and the dump being closed, we all trecked down the road with our pellet guns to head to the dump for target practice. So we were at the dump for about 1/2 hour shooting whatever did or didnt move. We stumbled across a decent sized stash of some 70's Playboy books....well that got our testosterone going, so we decided to grab some 1/2 full spray bombs and use them as flame throwers. We thought we would be smart and pull the old mattress out of the mound of garbage and shoot flames at it. As we were just starting to make some progress with the flames, we spotted a truck coming in!! We knew the dump was closed, so someone must have spotted us or something and made a call. Well we all ran and hid in behind some hills...we were freaking out the pellet guns were God knows where, and my friends gun has his name carved in it, and his dad is a local cop! So we continue hiding and every minute or so we peek up to see if they are gone, well I guess after about 5 minutes we pop our heads up and the whole frickin dump is on fire!! I mean the whole dump!! Well pellet guns be damned Im running home.....I aint the dumbass that carved his name in the stock of the gun! About 1/2 way home we could all hear the firetrucks coming and we were all trying to come up with stories.....all our parents knew we went to the dump to scrounge. Well after getting home and freaking out for an hour or so.....I remember this so vividly. Dad was shaving in the bathroom and I said Dad I have something to tell you....he says yeah??? I lit the dump on fire.....WHAT??? No WE lit the dump on fire....JESUS CHRIST IS THAT WHAT THE SIRENS ARE FOR??? I think so....Well he gets on the phone and calls the FD(Dad is an excop and my buddy's dad is a cop) and talks to them and then hands me the phone. I get a bit of a lecture, but got off light really. They had 2 trucks and about 6-8 firemen there for a couple hours. No more scrounging at the dump for 70's ****.....had to sort thru dads stash for that. The stuff we did and lived thru without killing anyone is amazing! Love all these reminiscing stories.
 
Love it!

Explosions are cool,any way you make em.Aerosol paint cans explode REAL GOOD. So do car batteries,if you use a piece of reebar to short the terminals together. Just remember to run..
 
Awesome story.....I like this guy.

Reminds me of the time we were bending nails over shotgun shells on a log, then sitting on an adjacent hillside trying to shoot the primers with BB guns from a distance......note to self...hold you fire when your annoying older brother is walking down the hillside you are using as the backstop.
No older brother were harmed but lets say it's hard to run with a load of poopy in your trousers.
 
Lol, used to love it when anybody could buy black powder, used to abuse that stuff all the time. Then we decided we had it figured out; powder, pvc. some silicone caulk, and waterproof fuses.

We killed a bunch of fish, and, if you tied a heavy weight to the pipe bomb, all kinds of old crap of the creek bottom would come up. There is always an idiot among your friends. So the idiot lights one behind us.... We got to garage of nearest friend, using tweezers, needle nose pliers, etc, we got most of the plastic shrapnel out of our backs and legs. ( oh, that was like a group huddle, that guys don't do, with their pants pulled down).

Well, pieces go deeper in your belly (I was lucky, only 3 in my legs, one in the chest. they got that one out with fingernail cutters) Saw that 2 had to go to the Doctor, I bailed out of there, still got squealed on.

And never put a .25 bullet on top of your bb gun, and fire the gun; it's 50 years ago, I still have the scar. The bullet is heavier than the shell. The shell came down and nailed my butt. Explain that to your parents, lol.
 
You guys got me going, the stories we could tell. About 7 years old, I got tired of the little sound my cap pistol made, so my superior brain figured out that this might work. Remember how the caps, in rolls, came in a roll of 5?

So I find a concrete block, lay the whole roll of 5 on it, go get dad's huge hammer, it was hard to raise over my shoulder, and frammed down.

Well the block broke, loud explosion. I think that started my right ear tinnitis and crap hearing out of that ear ever again. But, it was awesome.
 
green1 said:
You guys got me going, the stories we could tell. About 7 years old, I got tired of the little sound my cap pistol made, so my superior brain figured out that this might work. Remember how the caps, in rolls, came in a roll of 5?

So I find a concrete block, lay the whole roll of 5 on it, go get dad's huge hammer, it was hard to raise over my shoulder, and frammed down.

Well the block broke, loud explosion. I think that started my right ear tinnitis and crap hearing out of that ear ever again. But, it was awesome.
Click to expand...

Yep, oldest trick in the bad boy book. Haha.
My favorite is throwing jumping jacks in the air and they take off screaming, or throw them in water, or tie them to crayfish...etc.
 
Oh yeah, don't put a sealed can of beans on an
open fire.
 
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