I Won!

Thanks to Riverwalker and his stealth survival blog for hosting his Stealth Survival Holiday Special! After entering myself in the comments about 50 hobillion times, I won!
The prize was a free Guardian Deluxe 2 Person Kit from Stealth Survival and 1800prepare.com!
I also get to do a quest post on his blog. I guess that means I'd better get writing!

Assange vs Obama

Now I know that this really isn't Obama. Why you ask? Obama is wearing a suit jacket in the Oval Office. We all know he doesnt do that!




Via Jeux

Hey! I Have a Blog!

At the dinner table today Sigboy Jr asked what song I would be if I could choose. I decided to turn it into a MeMe.

I give you The Highwayman, The Devils Right Hand

Mrs. Sigboy wanted in on the action as well.

Shhh! Be Wery Quiet, I'm hunting Wabbits.

Per the Firearm Blog, It looks like Wilson Combat has a new compensator and silencer out. It incorporates a Lock ring down on the comp, no more screwing silencers on and off. It looks very, very slick. The comp also looks like it will limit muzzle rise very well.

Right now I use a Micalek comp on my 16" AR, it is very noisy and I don't dare use it indoors in fear of going deaf. But outside, it works great, almost zero muzzle rise and very quick transitions.

I have been looking for something better, something that I would not be afraid to shoot indoors and that I can still use in competition. This just may do that. Now how do I sell the wife on the $1055 price tag and $200 excise tax?

But I can shoot awot of wabbits...

Girding Ourselves Tighter

Matt G has a post up about taking his daughter and her bestest friends out to Ft Worth for a special dinner tonight.

The Money quote:

I, of all people, recognize that the world is actually a safer place than we give it credit for being, and I don't much think about these things, until I get put in charge of Other People's Children.

But when I take a group of kids downtown on a Friday night, I gird myself a bit tighter.

It is not often that words as honest as these are spoken. I know that when parents entrust me with their children, whether it be boy scouts or my daughter's friends over for a visit, I know how important their safety is. I take it very seriously, and personally. I would much rather take a bullet and/or neutralize a threat to any child in my care then make a phone call to a parent when their child has been hurt.

"Hello, Mrs. Soccermom? This is SigBoy. I have some bad news. Your child was raped, murdered, or even worse while I was responsible for them." I could not live with the shame that would incur. I could not live with myself, at all.

No sir, not on my watch. I will gird myself tighter.

Single Issue Voters

I don't normally link other bloggers, but this is a convincing argument, and an example of a damn fine blog post.

Phil writes:

The unmistakable lesson here is that, to secure liberty and civil society, the first Americans had to become laser-focused on their right to possess firearms. But are we to believe that the same approach is somehow required today? In this year of burgeoning government, political corruption, and shrinking personal freedom, the answer is yes. As Charlton Heston explained in his speech to the National Press Club in 1997: “The right to keep and bear arms is the one right that allows rights to exist at all.”

Until Second Amendment rights gain full and irrevocable standing in 21st century American law, we remain in the lingering shadow of General Gage and his tyrannical strategy of public disarmament. In 1775, we quickly became a “one-issue organization” to preserve freedom. Today, the remarkable degeneration of our free society demands the same unique focus.

Go read the rest, it's worth your time.

Tempering A Broken Heart

Last week I had the pleasure of hosting a very good friend of mine that was visiting from Canada. Unfortunately he was suffering from a broken heart and had recently tried to lose himself in a bottle. Luckily, he bought my logic that the Texas heat would kill him if he decided to stay in said bottle and sobered up for his ten day visit. I tried the usual lines, it wasn't meant to be, she was a skanky whore anyways, you know, the usual. It seemed to work for the most part, occasional bouts of anger and severe emotion plagued him. Luckily he held it together and I like to think that I sent him home in a better place (a little recoil therapy never hurt anyone).

But I digress, I also spent the time remembering what it was like to be in my early twenties and prone to heartbreak. Tempered thru the lens of time and quenched by a loving wife, I only have two heartbreaks of note. One that I deserved, and one that I never should have involved myself with in the first place. They both are wounds that can still be opened, perhaps by my own weakness, or by the simple power of old vivid emotions. Luckily, they are nothing like they used to be. Time may not heal all wounds, but the pain does fade into obscurity, leaving behind only the value of the lessons learned. Wether it be the knowledge that you should immediatly dump a woman that drunkenly propositions your best friend, right in front of you. Or the fact that relationships are a two way street and involve mutual likes and dislikes. The neccesity of being equally yoked in a relationship (granted thus generally doesnt come until a few years into marriage).

Finally, the fact of the matter is that there is an eternal companion out there for everyone. This quest is often fraught with peril, the twists and turns can be daunting. Not to mention having to deal with bandits and the occasional harpy. There may or may not be dragons, and nobody knows how long the quest will take, or how many miles you will have to travel, but I promise that there is a princess and a castle at the end.


Descahin, I love you like a brother. I know that it will get better and soon this will all fade into a funny story. You don't have to believe me, you just have to trust me.

Big Brown Truck

I have the coolest friends.....My thank you gift for hosting my Canadian friend.
5 pmags with 150 rounds and an extra case of 223!

Cursed Guns?

Many years ago I bought a cursed gun. It was a Ruger Super Blackhawk, stainless, in 44 Magnum with a 11 3/8 barrel. The previous owner had met his demise from a shotgun in the hands of a jealous husband. I gave $500 to his father for it. I kept it for about 4 years. There was nothing particularly noticeable about it, the only oddity was that every time I carried it hunting, I never saw, or shot, anything.

I traded it off for my STI on my wife's birthday in 2007. I did a spectacular job of covering up a $1500 pistol purchase. Needless to say when she found out, she wasn't happy. I understand that this was my own doing and not the pistols. The curse revealed itself in another way. Every major match I shot that pistol in led to gun problems costing me my trophies. No amount of money that I dumped into it seemed to make a difference. Two weeks ago, my patience wore thin. Doing mag change drills in the living room I broke the grip. The very next day I traded it off. I was going to go simple, take my 2k in gun trade in and go buy a Glock or a Spingfield XD, a few small changes, a trigger job, a pile of mags and I would be set. Of course, trade in values on a broken pistol were not what I expected them to be. But I think I made out pretty good on the deal:


I traded my STI, 7 mags, and holster for a Tangfolio (basically a matched out CZ75) in 40 S&W, 4 mags, a Bladetech holster, and 2000 bullets. So far I like it more then the STI, a solid metal frame makes it run alot smoother, and I noticed that it was easier to pick up the front sight during recoil. I have only put about 300 rounds thru it, but so far I am pleased. It was explained to me as a gun that even 'I' couldn't break.

My hope is that the money I lost on this deal is enough contrition to break the curse. So what say you? Any cursed gun stories?

Gosh Darn Hippies!

You are 0% hippie.

 

Ok, you conservative soul. Do you even believe in global warming? Loosen that necktie a little, and try some organic food. It actually does taste better. And go to a farmer's market--they're fun.

Are you a hippie?
Take More Quizzes

Get off my lawn!

Shooting off the Dust

I went with some friends to the local LE range this weekend to get some trigger time in. 500 rounds later and I'm back in the groove. I did some one shot draw drills with the STI, ran some drills on some plate racks. I also put my AR through its paces. Then it happened, the worst thing possible. My Fed buddy pulled out an 11" full auto AR that he was just issued. Boy that really brought back some memories, I'd almost forgotten the smell of rapid fire out of an AR. Luckily I still have the ability to keep them all on target at 25 yards.
But, the best part of the day was the pepper popper bay, there was one bay with 5 poppers in it. They were huge and you could go really fast! I am guessing that they are about 12" across, spaced at 7 to 15 yards. I did alot of good target transition practice on them. I was clearing the 5 poppers in about 1.7 seconds from the draw. Good times!

Lucky Gunner Giveaway

Looks like Steve over at The Firearm Blog is in the middle of a monthly giveaway from LuckyGunner.

Now Steve is a stand up guy, I read his blog every day and I count on his unbiased opinion for most things firearm related.

As for Lucky Gunner, I was playing with a full auto 11" AR this weekend. I know what ammo costs and how quick you can burn through it. They have some very lucrative ammo prices. I have also heard that their customer service is top notch.

Firearms in Family History

Great Grandpa Albert c.1919


We all know those stories. The family history stories that involve firearms, most people have them. Jay G has his families police revolver, some families have the firearms from WWII. My family story is a bit older than that.

Rumours surround this mythical rifle. It was bought by my Great Grandfather from a stage coach driver on the last stage into Salt Lake City. It was one of those right place/right time deal. The last coach pulled into town and he was there when the stage coach driver decided he didnt need it anymore. It was a Browning High Wall single shot rifle with a bull barrel. He didnt know what caliber it was, but a 32/40 Ballard fit. It shot well, even if it did blow out the cases. Later it was determined that it was actually 30/40 Krag. There are two generations of hunting stories with this rifle. From Deer to Bears and even a Moose.

Only one problem. Nobody had ever even seen it; It dropped off the radar about 50 years ago. Nobody was surprised my Great Grandfather had 12 kids (at least I know he had 12 boys, there may be more...). Luckily, it turned up last weekend, my Great-Uncle Ron had it up in Idaho. Later this month it will be passed onto my Father, and then to me. I will have pictures up when I get them, and I have alot of research to do, at this point all we know is that it's a real Browning from the late 19th or early 20th century(probably touched by JMB himself!). But it is a tangible way to touch my family history, lending a new life to all these old stories. I only hope that a century from now one of my rifles (I even have one picked out!) will illicit such excitement.

Beyond Target Shooting: AAR

Last weekend I traveled to Bastrop, Texas (down past Austin), and took their one day class 'Beyond Target Shooting'. A friend of mine got some much needed training out of this class and I got to get together with some friends that I don't see very often, and meet some new ones. The class was a beginner level concealed carry class. It primarily focused on the basics of concealed carry and basic draw techniques and malfunction drills.

Topics covered included:
o Mindset and tactics to increase you’re situational awareness.
o Gear Selection
o Carry options
o Drawing from concealment
o Firearm care and maintenance
o Marksmanship fundamentals
o Malfunction clearing
o Various shooting drills to become more proficient and prepared with a handgun for personal protection.

It was a eight hour class and they covered ALOT of material. There was about 18 people in the class and 6 to 8 instructors. From what I gather, the Central Texas Training Group (CTTG) is trying to break into the world of firearms training. They consist of a nice range outside of Bastrop. Affectionately called 'The Farm', and yes, if you caught the reference to cheesy 80's novels, they did it on purpose. The cadre is composed of like minded and well trained people that are willing to pass their knowledge onto others.

The Good; The Bad; The Ugly:

The Good- The range is located in a beautiful area, they share the area with a SASS group, It is levelled off, grassy, and has plenty of mature trees for shade. Currently it is only one berm, with no real bays to speak of. I have been told that there is plans to change that.

The classroom portion of the class dumped alot of information. I consider this to be a good thing because even if you only retain 5% of it, you can do more research later on your own. I also enjoyed how they spoke on mindset and avoiding a fight if at all possible.

Range Drills were your basic draw and fire at the target. Alot of attention was given to proper draw stroke and presentation. Again, this was a basic class, but this is where you lay your foundation. Alot of shooters do not have a firm foundation. As such, they are never consistent and have problems with alot of more advanced techniques.

The Bad- You could tell that this was the first public class that this group had put on. Their syllabus could use some streamlining, brought more into focus with what they want to get out in the time that they have to work with.
They did cover what I consider to be some more advanced material. Namely one handed malfunction drills. I dont think that it was appropriate to this class and that time could have been better spent on other material. That and I am not so sure that I want to be standing next to the local mall ninja who thinks that muzzle discipline goes out the window because he gets to rack his slide on his belt.

The Ugly- There was a few safety range issues. Two students were not up to par with the rest of the class and they were pulled aside. While I agree that was the correct choice, one was on the right end of the line, the other on the left. They each had their own instructor, also a good call. The issue was the fact that the range master would call for a safe line, and they would still be hot. This posses a problem for trying to secure equipment that was forward of the line. It happened twice to me personally. When I hear the RO call the range safe, I am trusting in him to know that it is safe. It wasn't and I was a bit upset about that. What should have happened is that the two shooters should have been put together somewhere away from the rest of the class. But, with only a berm and no real bays, there was no good options.

All in all, I would gladly take another class with them, when CTTG finishes cutting their teeth on these classes and makes the planned range improvements, it will make for a good place to take a class in the Austin area.

Hungover

Just like it sounds only different. For those of you that dont know I have been eating healthier and generally avoiding things like extra sugars and caffeine. A few months ago I went from 40 oz of soda or so a day to about 20oz every other day.

This weekend I payed for it. Sunday I went to a defensive pistol class down past Austin (AAR to follow). The nine hour drive home was a bit brutal. I hit a 20oz Mountain Dew at 10pm, followed by water, and a Monster energy drink that I nursed from about Midnight til 2am. I arrived home at 3:15 and slept til 8. That was when the company phone started ringing. For the rest of Monday, I felt like I was hung over. I tried to sweat it out with an intense workout, that made me feel better for an hour or two.

No more energy drinks for me. It's like poisoning your body.

I HAVE been that guy

Salamander has a post up about this pic:

No, it's not the fact that it looks like a fistfight between Rush Limbaugh and Joey Buttafuoco, being broken up by David Arquette (but that really is David). It's Mr. Smooth there in the upper right hand corner.

Several years ago I was at a Goose hunting trip in BF SD, it's just like BFE only in South Dakota instead of Egypt, we arrived into town at about 1am, of course my passengers wanted to partake of the libations so off to the bar we went. The smoke hung in the air, the bar was vacant except for the bartender and two guys playing pool. They were obviously no strangers to this establishment, and they were obviously quite drunk. The three of us sat at the bar and ordered (I, of course, partook of the Roy Rodgers). Ten minutes or so into our drinks, the two gentlemen break out into a fist fight, dragging each other along the bar in a drunken fight of not so epic proportions. Non pulsed I grabbed my drink off the bar, lest I lose my cherry, and swivel the seat around to watch them writhe at my feet as the bartender splits them up.

The bartender throws them out, with a passing reminder that they were welcome back tomorrow, and we finish off our own drinks. The really funny part was when we left, they were in the parking lot, apologizing to each other and pledging their everlasting friendship.

I knew there was a reason I generally avoid bars....

So You Think You Can Shoot a Pistol?

That question was asked of me at a friends farm last weekend. The second statement went like this: "Grab that Sig of yours and come on over here, I'm going to show you a thing or two."

I pondered to myself what exactly he had in mind. I wander over to the side of the barn where I find six full beer cans set out at about 15 yards (dont worry, it was just Bud Light). He tells me, "Shoot until you miss." I fire and miss low and left about a 1/2 inch. He shoots and misses by a foot. My second shot goes the same place, as does his. My third shot is on target, and I clear three cans. He misses again and I clear the next two when he complains, "You're not going to leave me any to shoot!" I let him shoot the last one and figure we are done with our little shooting escapade.

As Master Yoda would say, "Mistaken you were, hmmm?"

He walks over to the scrap pile and picks up a old aluminium sauce pot and tells me to shoot it twice as he throws it in the air. The pot goes flying and I shoot twice, hitting it both times. Now while I may not be shooting coins anytime soon, this was actually a fairly easy shot and after a bit of this I was asking him what part of it he wanted me to hit. I ran thru two mags of carry ammo during this escapade, and my wallet was starting to feel the pain of $1 plus per bang. We wrapped it up and went in the house.

As a parting shot, I asked him, "Did you really think I couldnt shoot a pistol."

"No," he replied. "I knew you could, I just wanted to see what you could actually do."

The Big Red Boar part II

The short version of this story is only one sentence; No shot, no sign. He seems to have either left the area or ran into a farmer with his rifle handy. I did get to work on my farmer tan, I must say it's coming along nicely.

About the only excitement came later in the afternoon. I managed to kick up a coyote during the heat of the day. I only caught a glimpse of him as he disappeared into the tall grass. I rushed to go set up where I thought he would come out. I caught sight of him a few times, but was unsure of the exact species of the animal (I would feel really bad if I shot a fawn). He came out of the grass right where I thought he would, about 200 yards away from me. I paused long enough to confirm that is was indeed a coyote, he paused long enough to confirm that I indeed was going to shoot at him. He started running and I started shooting. I fired three rounds at him (Those three 338/06 cases are long gone. I really need to stop dropping those). The first round went over the top of his head and between his ears. He promptly changed direction, I adjusted my lead and shot again. This shot went over his back, my partner said that it was damn close, an inch or less, but a miss is a miss. He changed direction again and picked up the pace. I led him by eight body lengths and figured his distance at 350 to 400 yards. The shot went behind him. One day I will make that shot, and never have a problem with it again. Hindsight tells me that I need to quit shooting at the whole coyote and pick a spot. 'Aim small, miss small'

The Big Red Boar

Several weekends ago I received a call, a large red boar was decimating crops and making a general nuisance of himself about 90 miles south of me. Grudgingly (raise your hand if you believe that), I headed south to see what assistance I could lend to this problem. A few hours of scouting told me where he was bedding down at, where he was eating, where he was wallowing and the routes he took during these events. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Most of the scouting was being done on four wheelers, now most of you know that I am not a huge fan of hunting on quads, but, this hog was causing problems and had to be found. It had recently rained several inches and there was a bit of mud scattered about. This led me to my fateful decision of the day, I left my rifle in the truck. Instead, I loaded my Ruger revolver with some super powerful loads that should put your average boar down. After all, who wants to clean a muddy rifle after a hunt?

We came across some VERY fresh sign in a field that still had quite a bit of last years corn stubble in it. Parking the four wheeler, I walked some brushy stuff along the edge of the field, the tracks were fresh. I knew that at any moment I was going to smell him. My revolver was in my hand, at a low ready, thumb poised like a old west gunfighter, ready to instantly cock the hammer. A glint of movement caught my eye. Almost 100 yards away was this big red boar, making a run for the fence line, and safety.

What is that rule again? Never take a pistol when you can take a rifle? That choice was the only reason I wont be having home made sausage tomorrow morning for breakfast. But, this weekend I will try again, and maybe I will have some tusks to show off, and more importantly, fresh sausage.

Thought for the Day

The corporate machine that I work for decided a few weeks ago to reorganize parts of the organization that I work for. They came into Kansas and told about ten people that they were moving their office to Sioux Falls. They all still had jobs, but on May 24th, they had to be in Sioux Falls if they wanted to keep them. 90% of them refused. I don't know what kind of severance package, if any, was offered; nor do I very much care. I have moved across our beautiful country a few times, it's not really a big deal. But, this is not today's point. The people that I work with in Kansas have become difficult to work with, almost hostile in their actions. I can understand that they are a bit bitter, perhaps afraid of change and the unknown. I can honestly say that if they were always like this I would have a hard time dealing with it. I almost think that they are upset at all the people this didn't effect, like me. But, I am also smart enough to know that next month it may be my turn. If that happens, I will either accept their transfer offer or refuse it, but I don't think it would change how I did my job.

My Question is this: Were my co workers always like this? Is this their true nature? Or is it like a cornered animal, lashing out at anything they can out of spite?

Oh, The Horror

alternate title: Somebody better clean this up before we open.


This was put together by my friend, ZDigger, who never grew up and does cool things with Lego's.

Mr Murphy Wins Again

I had planned continuously. I had pored over maps, checked my backpack, I even bought a new tent. What was I planning? Nothing less than an epic backpacking hunt in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of Kalifornia. 8,000 plus feet of elevation in a wilderness area loaded with trophy Mule Deer, provided of course, that you were willing to earn them with sore muscles, alot a sweat, salty tears and perhaps even a bit of blood.
The 2010/11 hunting regs were released last week and I called Fish and Game to clarify some issues about my Non-resident status. The bitch professional young lady that answered the phone (Seriously, she did not want to even deal with me. Keep refering me to the new regulation booklet, like that was any clearer. Hello? I called the 'help line' number.), explained to me that if I did not get drawn, they would not be issuing refunds for the tag fees. I knew that getting drawn would be difficult, there was only 400 tags for this zone, but was I willing to give them $250 of my money on a gamble? Probably to only get a preference point in return? The answer, loyal reader, is a resounding 'NO'. For $80 more dollars and less fuel I can drive to Colorado and have a higher chance of success.
Now all I need to do is find a beautiful area of Colorado where I can backpack in and hunt Mule Deer.

Some Governors Do It In Movies

Some do it in real life.....
How cool is the Texas Governor? Cool enough to stop a coyote intent on eating his dog with one shot from a small auto pistol.
From Yahoo news:

Perry told The Associated Press on Tuesday he needed just one shot from the laser-sighted pistol he sometimes carries while jogging to take down a coyote that menaced his puppy during a February run near Austin.

My Governor is cooler than your Governor.

"Taxonomy of Modern Dangers"

Shameless stolen from Tam, whose snark never fails to get her on base. This is a homerun and worth passing around.

It occurs to me that some newer readers may not be up on the entire "Taxonomy of Modern Dangers" thing, so as a recap, here are several good reasons to carry a gun:

Zombies (of course)
Pirates
Ninjas
Vampires
Werewolves
Bears
Face-eating monkeys
Killer space robots
Hippies (generally peaceful, but can become erratic and dangerous during mating season)

Various hybrids of the above, such as zombie bears or ninja vampires
Remember: If you are prepared for the dead to walk the earth in search of human brains, then a hurricane or attempted mugging is no big deal.

Isn't this well spoken truth awesome? The only thing I can think to add is clowns.

2010 Pecos Run 'n Gun 'n the Sun

I decided that before I committed to this, I had better ask Mrs. Sigboy for permission. The conversation went something like this:
"Honey, Phil just told me about a rifle match down in Pecos this August. It's a six mile running course with 4 or 5 shooting stations mixed in. They score it based on your run time and shooting score. You have to carry all your gear (including water) with you while you run."
"Six miles? In August? In the South Texas Desert? If you want to kill yourself, go ahead. Just make sure your life insurance is paid up."

I really didn't think that she would go for it. So now I am going to go and try and kill myself this August. Here is a copy of the 2008 info.

The only thing left to decide is what gear to use? Vest or Pack? I have also been told that there is a one gallon minimum water requirement. Round counts should be out shortly, I am assuming 80-100 rounds of rifle ammo, and I may take the J frame for snakes.

Now if you will excuse me, I have to get running.

Jump Rope

In an effort to be more active, last week I bought a jump rope. A fairly nice leather one from Everlast. No, I dont have any plans to be the next Rocky, or even to film some sort of training montage set to awesome 80's music. But this sitting behind a desk is taking it's toll on me. I took my new toy home and procceded to embarras myself with my lack of jump roping skills. I would make 8-10 complete jumps before tangling myself up in the jump rope. Honestly, it was so bad that I wondered how I even possesed the ability to remain upright while walking.

I fiqured that I needed to practice more and that the skills to properly jump rope would come in time. A few days went by and I really wasnt improving. I became slightly frustrated, maybe I just didnt posses the skillz needed to properly jump rope, I never really enjoyed it as a kid, that would make sense, right?

I just have one more question for my three loyal readers. How many people know that they make different length jump ropes? And, how many know that the taller you are the longer rope you need? I'm 6'02, and apparently an 8ft jumprope won't get the job done. I went out and purchased a 9 1/2ft rope and everything seems to work fine.

The more you know........

Last Night at Boy Scouts....

I'm almost considering making this a regular column, I just don't know if my sanity will allow it.

So last night at Boy Scouts we were learning the words to the Star Spangled Banner, and the history of said song. I also threw in some history about the War of 1812 to keep it lively. But, before we started I wanted to test the boys knowledge.

Who wrote the Star Spangled Banner?
Betsy Ross

Who was president during the War of 1812?
George Washington

What started the War of 1812?
The 13 colonies wanted freedom from England, oh, and tea.

Who was Francis Scott Key?
He was a British Naval Captain and fought John Paul Jones.

I have my work cut out for me, and this red mark on my forehead may be permanent.

Delusional Blunder

Many years ago, while still living in the Peoples Republik of Kalifornia, I had a good friend that was in a hard spot. He needed some money for one thing or another and decided to part with the first handgun that he had ever bought, a Smith and Wesson 686 with a 6" barrel. 357 Magnum, of course, and I had to have it! It would be the perfect pistol to carry out in the desert while chasing quail. The only problem was the wife, and I decided that I would deal with that later. I paid premium dollar for that pistol, after all, he was a friend. I handed him the $500, took it home and hid it in the gun cabinet. After all, that's what married men do. Right?

A few weeks go by and all is calm in the Sigboy household. I am in need of a little trigger time and start loading up the guns. I'm prepping all my gear, a bit of a drive out into the Mojave desert and I will reach a state of bliss that can only be caused by lead and the smell of burnt nitro-cellulose. A poor lack of timing on my part led to Mrs Sigboy entering the bedroom. "What's this?" she asked, picking up the 686. She opened the cylinder to check the weapon, closed it again and raised the firearm, sighting on an imaginary spot on the wall. My mind went into panic mode. What was I to do? How could I get out of this dilemma? Most importantly, how could I get out of this dilemma and still go shoot?

The solution came upon me in a flash. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I wanted it to be a surprise." Wait a moment for a dramatic pause, and breathe. "I bought it for you and I wanted to take it out and make sure that everything was okay before I gave it to you." My poker face was on, I betrayed no emotion as she pondered my explanation.

A flicker of doubt crept across my mind. Finally she says, "I like it. When will I get to shoot it?" I was safe, or so I thought. She loved that pistol, and shot it well. On every foray we had she carried that pistol. I didn't get to shoot it very much. I carried it in the field even less. Every time I would try and pack it, she would say, "Why are you taking my pistol? You have your own!".

Let this be a lesson to all of you. When you try to cover your indiscretion by making it a gift, just plan on not being able to use it for the purpose you intended.

Fruity Oaty Bars

After a long, and yet not very diligent search, I cobbled together my own personal recipe for fruity oaty bars. Why you ask? Simply put, I'm in touch with my inner Sci-Fi geek and I thought it would be cool. Or, if that's not good enough, I wanted to make my own energy bars for camping.



The search began with my ingredient list. Fruit and oats, how hard could this be? Well what fruit? I like cranberries, and apples, pineapples, cherries, raisins, bananas aren't an option due to certain health issues in the Sigboy household. I even considered prunes and dates, but I want everybody to eat them. I ruled out dried pineapple because I didn't know how it would take the oven, it would also probably be too acidic. Apples were a serious contender, but they also lost out because of the baking issue.



Without further ado, the recipe:
2 1/2 cups oats
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup finely chopped homemade honey roasted almonds
3 eggs
1/2 cup cranberries
1/2 cup cherries
1/2 cup golden raisins
1/2 cup white chocolate chips
2 teaspoons Vanilla
1 teaspoon Cherry extract
1 smidge of cinnamon

Combine sugar, vanilla, cherry extract and eggs in appropriate sized bowl, mix. Add oats, mix again. Add Almonds, mix some more. By now it should be fairly sticky and all items should be evenly coated. A mixer may work for this, but I didn't want to clean the wife's mixer, I just used a bowl. Add the chocolate chips and fruit, last time to mix, I promise. I added the fruit last because I didn't want it to get to beat up with all the mixing.

Grease a 9x13 pan, I mean hose it down (my wife doesn't clean up after my little baking 'experiments'). Spoon your mixture of fruity oaty goodness into the pan. Slide it into your oven at 350* (you did preheat it, didn't you? On a side note, turn the oven on before you mix anything. Than it will be ready). Bake at 350 for 20-25 minutes. 25 was just a bit to long in my oven, just check them at 20 and go from there.

Remove from oven and let cool (I mean it, let them cool), cut into bars and wrap, freeze for a longer shelf life. Finally, clean up your mess before your better half gets home. Just trust me on the last part.

Alright, it's taste test time, the flavor is good but the consistency isn't quite right. They are a little crumbly, they just don't quite stick together like they should. I'm thinking about maybe adding molasses or maybe another 1/2 cup of brown sugar. But I'm really at a loss now, and I'm hoping that my two female readers will come in and save me. So how do I make my bars stick together without ruining the taste? HELP!!!!!

Blow Out Kit

The simple Blow Out Kit, small lightweight, and designed for only one thing, to stop all that red stuff from gushing out of you, or your buddies body when bad things happen.

I finally decided that it was time for me to put one of these together, I have other first aid kits (FAK), but I wanted something that I could throw in my range bag and forget about.
The list of contents is short, and contains only the basics to stop major trauma.
1.Olaes Modular Bandage. This thing is awesome! It is a pressure bandage, tourniquet, gauze wound pack, and occlusive dressing all in one. I personally think it is well worth the $8. It is also Latex free. Video here.

2.SWAT-T tourniquet. Relatively new on the first aid market, it is simply a wide rubber band. It functions a s a tourniquet, pressure dressing, and elastic bandage all in one. It is lightweight and more affordable than alot of your traditional TQ's. A real bargain at $10. Also latex free.

3.Nasopharyngeal airway. Keeps you breathing when the muscles in your mouth swell up. Probably not latex free. Instructions for use are here.

4.3" ACE Bandage. We all know what these are used for, splinting, sprains and breaks.

5.Triangular Bandage. Used for splinting.

6.Durapore tape. Always have med tape with you, almost as many uses as duct tape. I prefer the 1" size myself, if you want the 2", just pack duct tape.

Many who know me are surprised that I never put a Blow Out Kit together. I didn't have one the last time I got shot (long story), but I would like to have one around just in case there is a next time.

I Am Being Stoned

Or, I will be stoned, depending how you look at it.

I am currently being besieged by kidney stones and life will be very interesting until I pass it. I went thru this about this time last year and it wasn't too much fun. Luckily this time I already have a one two punch of hydro-codone and Tramadol to get me thru it. Hopefully this time I can avoid spending $1000 at the Doctor, just for him to tell me that they aren't going to do anything about it.
But hopefully soon this health care reform will kick in and I can save all that money that I normally spend on medical bills every year.
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Sadly only half of this is an April Fools joke.

Trigger Time, Part II

As the sun was setting, the light was just right to get some silhouette pictures, most of them didn't come out, but a few did. I kinda like it!

I really needed the break from the stresses of work, A few days out shooting does wonders for my attitude, and I'm sure that my bosses appreciate it.
One of the highlights of the trip (other than a new shooter!) was when I decided to start showing off a bit (It's a curse, I swear). I have a T/C Contender carbine in 357 Maximum, 18" barrel, magnaported, with a tiny 4x fixed power Burris scope. It was my thirteenth birthday present from my Father; that carbine and I have seen alot of miles together. With 38 Specials it has next to no recoil and zero muzzle jump. With 357 Magnums, it's a fun little toy, and with 357 Maximums, it is a very effective deer cartridge out to about 150 yards. When Descahin's girlfriend broke her camera, what did she want to do? Shoot it, of course. So I checked the zero on the contender and gave her a go, of course she hit it, and we were able to recover the camera pieces, and the bullet that shot it! After this a few of my buddies, who only appreciate black rifles, poked a little fun at my little carbine. This led to my showing off. I started shooting Skittle sized targets at ten yards, standing. A few rounds of watching me make the target disappear after each shot changed their opinion of my little carbine.

Trigger Time, Finally (and new shooter report)!

After the real world interfering with my shooting schedule, I took a few days off to visit a friends ranch south of me. My good friend Deschain (from Canada, eh) brought his girlfriend down and we had a great time (until the weather crapped out, but that's another story). His girlfriend is an aspiring Law Enforcement Officer and had never fired a firearm. It was my sworn mission to rectify that problem. So we started her off easy:

Once I worked on her form, she became alot more comfortable and was really enjoying herself.

After she was familiarized with the basic principles of sight picture and trigger squeeze I move her over to a S & W LadySmith with a 5" barrel. She shot that rather well, and seemed to have no problems with the double action trigger pull. Another friend arrived with a Walther P22 and she shot that as well. I think we hooked another one, she is now talking about how much she misses Texas and wants to come visit again. More solid proof that all you need is one small taste of freedom and you are hooked for life.

Gauntlet Update

I failed. It may have been the 14" pizza I ate on Saturday, I'm not sure. Regardless, I failed. Final weight was 212.8, I was down an even five pounds in four weeks. My charming wife has told me that I can go buy my T-shirts regardless. However, I am going to continue to drop weight and not buy them until I reach 205. At this rate, it will be about early June. Unless I go run, or stop eating pizza and fudge. Decisions, decisions.

Radar Detectors

I had a interesting observation today about radar detectors. I personally think that you have a firm and unalienable right to use them. I also believe that by using them you essentially err on the 'ticket' side of officer discretion rather than the 'warning' side. Which made me realize something else about a society where freedom is paramount; just because it's legal, doesn't make it right. That is why when you a have a radar detector suctioned cup to your windshield, you will ALWAYS get the ticket.

Gauntlet, Part Three

This week it was all my fault. I have been craving carbs and sweets. I want bread, cereals, cupcakes, candy, and a very large and fatty steak. I believe my body is trying to organize a coup. Of course, the spoil ourselves rotten lunch at Red Lobster Wednesday didn't help either (but my lovely wife said that she enjoyed it immensely), nor did the pound of fudge (she enjoyed that as well) I bought from a traveling road show at Sam's Club.

One thing that I noticed was that my clothes aren't fitting like they used too. My weight hasn't changed a whole lot, but my structure has. As the muscle starts to tone itself back out and the fat burns off, things aren't fitting the same. I had forgotten what a pain in the ass it was to fit my arms into most shirts. Case in point, last week we stopped at the JC Penny outlet store, I found a decent long sleeve shirt for $2, it wasn't a formal shirt, but would go well when you wanted to wear something more than a polo. It was sized XL, the wife approved of the colors and pattern, so we brought it home. After washing I tried it on. Fit? Not exactly. the shoulders fit (barely), but my arms didn't, one flex the wrong way and I was going to rip seams out. Oh well, it's off to one of my, um, slimmer friends. The moral of the story is that if I keep going down this road, it's going to be back to tailored clothes so that they will fit right. Is it really worth it?

Final thoughts for the week, I need to cut my food back even more. However I have a five day camping trip next week, and now it looks like everybody is bringing tons of food, so I may not reach my goal. Final weigh in, and post, will be on March 22nd.

Todays weight, 213.5 - Own 0.1 pounds, 5.7 pounds to go.

"Handgun Shotgun Rifle" (for bugout) meme....

In continuation of the firearm list MeMe's. I have one I would like to propose to the rest of the Internets. If you had to leave your house RIGHT NOW because of some disaster, lets go with zombies. You do not know if you are ever going to return, and you only have room to take one rifle, one shot gun, and one handgun. What are they?

My three choices for BugOut, from what I CURRENTLY own would be-

Handgun: Sig P226 in 40 S&W, with light rail and night sights

Shotgun: Remington 870, 20 inch barrel, rifle sights.

Rife: Sako FinnBear in 30/06 with 3-9 scope and sling

I know that the first two on the list were the same as yesterday for my self defense list. But I dropped the AR in favor of my favorite hunting rifle. Why? Simply because I can hit anything I can see. Also, I am not carrying around one of those scary black rifles. Granted, if things are so bad that we are carrying around rifles, it shouldn't matter very much. Also, my handgun and shotgun more than effectively cover my short range self defense needs. This allows me to take a rifle with a bit more range and punch.

"Handgun Shotgun Rifle" (for defense) meme....

So, via Tam, this old meme is going around.

One Handgun, One Rifle, One Shotgun. You are able to choose just one of each for self defense with NO modifications.

Handgun: Sig Sauer P226, in 40 S & W, with a light rail and night sights.

Shotgun: Remington 870, 12 gauge, 20 inch barrel, rifle sights.

Rifle: 16" AR, with A2 buttstock, you know, so I can hit people with it.

There you go, nothing fancy, just three firearms. Also please note that my Bug Out Guns are a little different than this list. Hmmm, I may resurrect that tired old list tomorrow.

Guantlet Update

Today wraps up week two of my wife's challenge. This week has been really difficult for me to watch the diet. My fat and sugar cravings have been ridiculously hard. I'm sure that the bag of Jelly Beans that the wife brought home didn't help. Or the Girl Scout cookies. Next she is going to be making me her home made cream filled cupcakes (Devils food with vanilla frosting, please)! Yes you heard me correctly, my lovely and charming wife has resorted to guerrilla tactics to force me into not meeting my end of the bargain!
This challenge is scheduled to end on Monday morning, March 22nd.


And for those of you that are curious....213.6 Down 4.2, 5.8 to go.

Soda Can Stoves; Alternate Title: Who Needs Eyebrows Anyways?

It was a slow day at work, actually slower than normal. I had a nagging problem with some of my outdoor gear. I had put together a daypack based on my Camelbak Mule (post next week, I promise). I wasn't happy with the fact that I had nothing to cook with in it. Lets be honest with ourselves, sometimes you just NEED that cup of hot cocoa out on the trail. So I had the brilliant idea to build a Soda Can Stove. Methanol, open flames and thin aluminium, what could go wrong?
I grabbed a few designs off the net, figured in my head what I wanted to use as a design, and started destroying soda cans. First, I needed soda cans. This made my children extremely happy because they got to have soda with dinner two nights in a row. Second, we marked them out, cut jets, and cut them open with scissors. The third step was to attach the pieces together and epoxy them. The final step was to fill them with Methanol and light them off.

From sodacanstove

I made several different designs, different heights, and different number of jets to determine what the most efficient stove. My conclusion was that it doesn't matter, they all boil a cup of 60 degree water in slightly less than four minutes. I did find that your jets should be smaller than 1/16 inch, and that you should have less than 16, 10 to 12 seemed about right.
But wait, SigBoy, you mentioned something about eyebrows!

I made one tall stove, epoxy'd it, cut the jets, filled it with fluid and lit the fuel. It burned for about twenty seconds before I heard a loud pop and I was suddenly on fire. As near as I can figure, the space where the two cans came together allowed alcohol to get trapped and create pressure as it heated. This pressure caused the two halves to separate spraying everything in a five foot radius with flaming alcohol. My pants were on fire, my shirt was on fire. I smelled the acrid smell of burning hair, and I came to the immediate realization that my goatee, mustache, eyebrows and hair was on fire! I quickly put myself out and inspected the damage. To save you the dramatic details, nobody will accuse me of having a uni-brow anytime soon, and I had to trim my facial hair down fairly short.


follow the picassa link on the center pic to find my the complete how to in pictures

Throwing Down the Guantlet

Yep, she did it. Mrs. Sigboy threw down the gauntlet. I was looking at nifty cool T-shirts online at RangerUp, where two of them caught my eye. I was positively drooling over them. They would be an awesome wardrobe choice for most of the shooting matches that I attend.
Choice one:

Choice two:

Choice two is my favorite, not so much for the Missus; here is the shirt description:

There are two types of women in this world.

1) Women who want metrosexual sensitive men who cook gourmet dinners, wax their own eyebrows, paint their mate's toenails, and uses phrases like "Yes, honey bunny".

2) Women who like guys made of pure testosterone who live their lives jumping out of airplanes, kicking doors in, and shooting bad guys, never knowing when they're going to come face to face with the big Ranger in the sky.

P.S. Deep down in places they don't like to talk about at parties, the ladies in group one want us too.

Chicks dig shooters. Deal with it, frat boys.

My comment after reading this to my darling wife was, "Ah, the good old days." After which she promptly hit me. And than laid down the challenge.

"Ten pounds, you lose ten pounds, from what you weigh right now, I will let you get those shirts."

"Right now?" I asked, as I stood up from the computer and strolled over to the scale, stripping clothes off as I went. Now, I am by know means out of shape, at
6'02 I can carry a bit of weight around and not show it, but my management job makes it harder to stay trim. I jumped on the scale wearing only a T-shirt, socks and underwear. 217.8, thinking to myself, this is going to be easy, the only dilemma will be what size to order them in. "207.8, I get my shirts?" She nods at me. I have given myself four weeks to accomplish this feat.

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!

Tin Foil Dinners

This weekend was my first official Boy Scout camp out. The boys planned out all their meals and the choice for Friday night was tin foil dinners. I had never before had tun foil dinners so a little research was in order. The Internet was a wealth of knowledge about how to wrap up a bland piece of hamburger meat with some potatoes. This was not exactly what I was looking for, if I wanted charred pot roast, I could just make it before hand and take it with me. But, part of this calling is the experience, so I decided to participate whole heartily
The one thing that was stressed in my research was that they had to be well lubricated. Butter and oil were your ally, do not be sparing with them. I kept that it mind as I made my two tin foil dinners; I figured if one failed there would still be another.


First:
The Classic tinfoil dinner. I used a garlic hamburger patty and doused it with red pepper seasoned olive oil. I precooked a russet potato for four minutes in the microwave, added carrots and onion, and topped it with a pad of real butter.

It came out alright, I should have cooked the carrots a bit before throwing them in, and added salt and pepper. The meat was perfectly done, but the flavors left a bit to be desired.



Second:
Barbecue chicken breast. I took one chicken breast, cubed it, and lightly browned in a skillet til about half cooked. I mixed in two slices of chopped bacon (remember, bacon makes everything better and I knew the grease wouldn't hurt), a healthy dose of onion, a heavy tablespoon of brown sugar, and a pad of real butter. Smoother that with the BBQ sauce of your choice and wrap it up.


It came out awesome, the flavors were great, and the added bonus was smelling it as it sizzled on the coals. Next time, I wont precook the chicken as much, but those that I shared with had no complaints.

So whats on the menu for the next tinfoil dinner? I am definitely doing the BBQ chicken again. I want to try something with sweet potatoes. Possibly Venison backstrap with apple smoked bacon. I am also considering a separate one for a vegetable medley.

Wintergeddon, Part 2

The sky was clear and the stars shone brightly into the canyon. The red canyon walls were mere shadows against the starlit canvas of night. The fire had burned down to embers, occasionally flaring red with anger at a slight gust of wind. Orion hung low in the southern sky, a vivid reminder that others had come to this canyon long before me, if only he would share their secrets. Perhaps the knowledge would be to much for me, after all I generally learned all of my lessons the hard way. But, buried deep in my sub-conscious is the knowledge is that there is very little about life that I could not learn out here, beneath the stars.

We adjourned to our respective tents, cold sleeping bags awaited us, begging to be warmed by the heat of our bodies. I laid there, allowing my body to ease into the natural contours of the ground. The warmth of my down sleeping bag pulled me into a deep sleep. As dawn broke, I found myself curled deep in my bag. A strange sound assailed my ears, it was almost like the sound of a light drizzle, only more menacing. My comrade whispered from his tent, "Is it raining?"

"I don't think so", I replied. I wasn't sure what the noise was. Further investigation showed it to be sheets of ice forming on everything. This also included my muddy boots that I left outside my tent after a midnight run thru the mesquite. Luckily, the fire was there to dry them out.


As the sun rose, our strange fog filled and ice covered world became visible, overnight a thick blanketing fog had descended onto the Texas Panhandle and was hovering above our heads. All hopes of letting the sun come out and drying my tent were long gone. I would be packing it up wet and drying it at home. Mrs. Sigboy was going to love this.

We ate breakfast (where I discovered that my friend was a pie loving traitor) and broke camp. All that was left was one little four mile hike and Wintergeddon '10 would come to an end. The hike went with out incident, other than more mud and snow, and the freezing mist that hung in the air. My drive home was slowed considerably by the thick fog that only became thicker as I drove out of the canyon and pointed the truck towards home. My final thought as I returned home was that I was able to escape the cares of modern society, if only for a bit.

MA vs. CA, Round 1

I grew up in California and for about 60% of my life, I was interred, detained, forcibly held, tortured, a proud citizen stuck behind the wire. I grew used to the nanny state looking over my every action. When smoking was banned in restaurants I thought it was awesome. But little did I know that was only the beginning, but I learned from the errors of my ways. Because of my California Conservative upbringing I had a steep curve to the top. I tell you this because Jay G of Marooned fame has gone on a rant discussed a new proposed bill that would force MA restaurants to be more diligent about food allergies.
The point is that they are trying to avoid ER visits by listing the ingredients that are in the dish and/or in the kitchen. Jay G says it better than I could:

"Look, if you have a food allergy so severe that mere contamination from preparation will pose a life-threatening risk, it is incumbent on YOU to be informed about the culinary practices of any restaurant you visit. If you are so susceptible to allergens and do not perform due diligence in checking out that your food is not properly prepared to avoid a reaction, then I'm sorry but you've earned the ride in the back of the ambulance."

One of the adverse developments to my wife's illness is some pretty nasty food allergies. The smell of Guacamole causes her throat to swell; touching bananas causes instant irritation, swelling, and redness. These are just two of many examples. My daughter is allergic to fish, so allergic that she had a reaction simply visiting the Long Beach Aquarium (btw, great place, go if you can). This precludes me from two awesome things while out to eat with the family, fish and fajitas. Seriously, fajitas with the itty-bitty shrimp, chicken, steak, a good spanish rice and fresh guacamole-pure heaven.
A simple word to the server is generally all it takes. Do I think that the government should force restaurants to list all this stuff? Nope. Do I think that the restaurant is responsible if my wife passes out on the floor because I ordered a steak burrito with extra guac? Nope.
People, we all have to be aware of our situations and deal with them accordingly. Government interference or forced compliance is no substitute for what should be your responsibility. You know what you can do and what you can't.

Success

My first attempt at Chicken Fried Steak, complimented with ultimate mashed potatoes and broccoli.

Wintergeddon, Part One

An Outdoors and preparedness charity group that I associate with (see how not saying Zombie Squad makes it sound better?) had their winter camping trip this last weekend. The local chapter that I am a part of decided we needed to plan one of those camping trips where it is cold, wet, miserable, and generally an awesome time; we succeeded on three out of four of them. We call this event Wintergeddon.

We had planned for a Saturday morning arrival, the original number of us was to be five. One last minute cancellation and two who didn't want to actually leave the
city limits left us with two, and we both arrived at the park at about 12:30. I had planned on making Venison Chili in a Dutch Oven over an open fire. Unfortunately, I forgot the Venison and had to stop at the small town grocery store in Quitaque (Kitty-Qwai) to pick up some stew meat. They did not have exactly what I wanted, but, in typical small town style, the butcher cut up exactly what I wanted. This led to my fashionably late arrival at Caprock Canyon State Park.

We drove down to our campsite and had our choice of appx 20 campsites to choose from; I would say that we did a very good job choosing the least muddy option. The fine red powdery caliche that forms most of the Palo Duro Canyon are and escarpment is some of the stickiest stuff I have ever see, and it can get everywhere when it is wet, not to mention reducing your friction coefficient to something approaching a Banana peel on a waxed floor. We dragged our bags out and pitched our tents. Every tarp that we had was put to use trying to protect equipment from the mud. I am glad to say that we were moderately successful at this.


With camp done, It was about 2pm and a small hike was in order, we planned a decent six mile hike and headed up the trail along the canyon wall. The weather was nice, about 35 degrees, clear skies and little or no wind. We departed with our small packs with a spring in our step, happy to be enjoying the outdoors. The recent snow and rain storms had not been kind to the trail. The erosion had washed the trail away in a few places, and made some of the switchbacks somewhat treacherous. Due to this we could not locate the second trail we needed and had to take the next trail. Now our hike was looking to be about 7.5 miles. It was no big issue, we had plenty of time, all that we had to do when we got to camp was start a fire and cook the chili. Of course, fate had to intervene yet again, and a unmarked trail, combined with a shitty map led us another mile out of our way. By the time we realized our error, the sun was dipping low into the sky. The terrain would not support an 'as the crow flies' path back to camp, so we hoofed it back up the trail and made it back to camp as the light was fading.

Character Flaw?

I need to rant, that is what most of this post is going to be. You have been warned.

About a decade ago, maybe a little less, I made a decision. I decided that I was going to be the best at what I did, no matter what it was. It didn't matter if it was work or play. I was simply going to be the best. The plan worked. I became enormously successful working at several large truck dealerships in SoCal. I did alignment and suspension work, and because of it, was known and respected across the country. I was making a small fortune, and was at the top of my game. Than I decided that I wanted to play cop. That worked too, graduated fifth in my Academy class before deciding that I liked my wife alot more than I liked the badge. To save my marriage a change was in order, and in typical Sigboy fashion it was big. We sold the house and moved to Sioux Falls, South Dakota. I took a job as a Night foreman at another truck dealership. They had problems with their crew and needed to turn it around. Turn it around I did, bringing productivity up from 60% to just over 85%. No small feat considering what I had to work with. After I was done with that, they decided that they no longer needed my (expensive) services, so something new was again in order. That turned out to be tankers, fuel and propane tankers to be exact. It's fun, I got to keep things from blowing up going down the road.

So why am I telling you all this? The short version of my truck industry career? To set the stage for the next scene of course.

While in South Dakota, Mrs. Sigboy fell ill with a mysterious illness that manifested itself as severe allergies to, well, everything. Doctors could not figure it out, and I was given the options, move her out of here or watch her die. Seeing as how I liked my wife alot more than I liked South Dakota, it was time to move across the country, again. So we gave the house away, and the company I work for was kind enough to give me a promotion and a transfer to Texas.

I was promised the moon when they sent me down here, they wanted badly for me to take it. I was smart enough to know that there was no way it could all be true. But if half of it was true, I would be in a good place. I needed to start over anyways, and with the economy in the position it's in, it was a good plan to keep my job.

Almost a year and a half later, things have settled in at this shop. I have things as organized as they are going to get. It's a pretty good deal, my job is to keep about 13 trucks rolling thru Texas and Oklahoma, Five of them are stationed here with me and the rest are scattered about. I am very good at what I do and the drivers all know that they can count on me to do the right thing and keep them rolling, and it's really nice to have your boss 300 miles away. Both upper management and the drivers tell me that I am the best thing that ever happened to this yard. But it's not enough. I'm not happy. I'm not allowed to excel at what I do. I am to maintain the status quo, no more no less. any deviation off this line results in an immediate smackdown. If my shop is more productive than my boss's shop, I get a lecture, not productive enough, a different lecture. I suppose that what bothers me the most is that I do not feel that I am productive as I can be in this position, and nobody else seems to think I'm doing anything wrong. I have a cushy job, I do what I want, when I want. But I don't feel that it is enough. I can work at this job until I retire, collect my pension and do rather well for myself. But will I be satisfied? Is job satisfaction more important than job security? Is it a simple issue of changing my own standards of success? Perhaps I need to seek my satisfaction elsewhere. I don't know what the right answer is, I only know that something has to change soon, or I'm going to get myself in trouble, and I'm probably going to enjoy it in the process.
edit: I may have found the solution, thanks to Paule Kersey.

Balance

I had a very successful hunting season, I have enough Venison to last a year, I was even able to share with my friends. I made the decision to send the Mule Deer out for a European mount. Carl, as he has been named has returned and has been placed above the computer desk next to Frank, I thought that having a Whitetail and a Mule deer would look good on the shelf. Something is wrong with this display, I can't move the desk, and I dont really want to move the speaker. I will, maybe I need a bear skull to go where the speaker is.


County Line Carl:



Frank the Fighter:

Bug Out Firearms

Somebody save us, the gun blogs are fired up with the tired classic; what guns to you take when the zombies come and force you to flee your home.
First the obligatory link roll. Here are people that have already done this post:
JayG, TheFirearmBlog, and the original source is The Survivalist Blog.

So the question is, what firearms go with your Bug Out Bag? Luckily I have wasted time devoted alot of thought to this very problem. First, let me clarify my Bugout plan. I have no real desire to evacuate unless absolutely necessary. I have food, water and shelter at my home. I can think of few things short of zombies and/or total destruction that would cause me to flee. Should that day come, I plan on hooking up my hippy hating pickup to my camper and packing as much stuff into that as possible. This way I am taking my shelter with me and stand a lower risk of becoming a refugee. With this plan in place, there is a long list of firearms that will be traveling with me. They include about four pistols, two high power rifles, two shotguns, two 22 rifles, both AR's and about 400 pounds of ammo (thats about 181kg for those on the communist system). The food water and other consumables are beyond the scope of this post, we can cover those later.

The next stage of the plan involves no camper and just the pickup. This lack of room shortens the list to the following:
1) Sig Sauer P226 in 40s&w
2) Sako FinnBear in 30/06
3) Remingotn 870 12 gauge with 20" barrel
4) Ruger 10/22
5) Colt 22 pistol
6) Evil Black Rifle

But should the unthinkable happen and I needed to Bug Out with just what I could carry, I think that the choice would be my bolt action 30/06 and the Sig. If I had room and I thought that I could add the weight, I would add a 22 pistol and the AR.

Alot of people question my choice of a bolt gun over the AR, to me it is simply a matter of power and precision over rate of fire. I can do more with a bolt gun than I can with an AR, and the pistol fills in most of the bolt guns shortcomings. The bolt gun takes my effective range out to unrealistic distances for defense (If I can see it, I can hit it), and the pistol gives me a higher rate of fire.

I have one final question for you. When all these bad things happen, and some long haired hippy PETA lover lets all the lions out of the zoo, do you really want to shoot one with an AR?

These are my choices; what are yours?