First of all, in case you didn't know, I was nearly killed on the way to Pennsylvania. I was in the car with my mother driving and my sister in the back seat. Near Newark airport, we were getting in the second from right lane; the two rightmost lanes were the exit lanes. A truck driver (18 wheeler) I suppose realized he was going to miss the exit and swerved across two lanes of traffic to get into the lane we were in, only he hit us on the rear, and we got stuck on his front bumper, the car sort of diagonally angled in front of him. He pushed us for a good 200 feet, clearly didn't see us. My sister was screaming; I had the presence of mind to turn around and yell at he to shut up. Wow, I'm a good sister.
Then the car suddenly flipped so we were sideways, with his grill flat against the whole driver's side of the car. He pushed us like that for another 50 or so feet. Finally, as he realized we were there after my mom started honking the horn, he started slowing down and the car flipped around now to the truck's driver's side, facing into traffic. Luckily it was in the litle median between the exit and the highway, so there were no cars actually coming at us. Lucky, because if he had dragged us a little further we would have been crushed against the concrete divider that was about 50 feet down from where we ended up, and if it had been a little earlier that we had flipped to the trucks other side, we probably have been hit head on by a car going 65 mph. Fabulous.
The truck driver was an ass, yelling at everyone, but we have a witness who gave a statement to the police saying it was his fault. He's so fucked. The officer gave us a ride to Newark, where we rented a car and continued on our merry way. Unfortunately, the delay meant that we didn't get to where we were going (western PA) until Saturday afternoon (we spent Sat AM touring Johnstown, PA, which is where my father is from), and so we missed out on hunting for fun things like rabbits and squirrels and turkey and deer.
Instead, we went racoon hunting that night. It's not very sporting. You go out with your dogs (coonhounds are generally preferred in the north, apparently, but my uncle prefers mountain curs, which he gets from the "hillbillies" of North Carolina, beause they do not bark until the coon is treed, and so they tend to tree a lot more coons because they sneak up on them) and they find racoons, chase them up a tree, and then stay at the base of the tree and bark. At that point you walk to them (they can range very far), find the racoon in the tree, and shoot it.
My uncle has a guy who skins and streches the hides for $2 a piece, and gthen he sells them for $7-9 a piece. Usually he gets 4-5 coons a night, but the night we went out we only got one in like 4 hours.
On sunday I got to shoot a lot of guns, including a 300 savage rifle that was my grandfathers, and then belonged to my dad when he was younger; my dad's nephew (who is 5 years younger than him and they were raised together by my dad's sister as brothers) has the gun now. I did pretty well; hit the bullseye with the 22 caliber rifle, and hit a bunch of bottles and cans with the 20 guage shotgun. My little sister kicked ass with the shotgun.
Had a real good, for lack of a better word, white trash thanksgiving dinner, including a butterball turkey, stovetop stuffing, frozen hashed brown potatoes mixed with chedda cheese and sour cream in a casserole, and a broccoli cheese rice which I susect was the a dried mix with extra frozen broccoli mixed in. Also caramel apple pie, pumpkin pie and other assorted things. And of course the beer of choice was keystone light! Kick ass.
Then the car suddenly flipped so we were sideways, with his grill flat against the whole driver's side of the car. He pushed us like that for another 50 or so feet. Finally, as he realized we were there after my mom started honking the horn, he started slowing down and the car flipped around now to the truck's driver's side, facing into traffic. Luckily it was in the litle median between the exit and the highway, so there were no cars actually coming at us. Lucky, because if he had dragged us a little further we would have been crushed against the concrete divider that was about 50 feet down from where we ended up, and if it had been a little earlier that we had flipped to the trucks other side, we probably have been hit head on by a car going 65 mph. Fabulous.
The truck driver was an ass, yelling at everyone, but we have a witness who gave a statement to the police saying it was his fault. He's so fucked. The officer gave us a ride to Newark, where we rented a car and continued on our merry way. Unfortunately, the delay meant that we didn't get to where we were going (western PA) until Saturday afternoon (we spent Sat AM touring Johnstown, PA, which is where my father is from), and so we missed out on hunting for fun things like rabbits and squirrels and turkey and deer.
Instead, we went racoon hunting that night. It's not very sporting. You go out with your dogs (coonhounds are generally preferred in the north, apparently, but my uncle prefers mountain curs, which he gets from the "hillbillies" of North Carolina, beause they do not bark until the coon is treed, and so they tend to tree a lot more coons because they sneak up on them) and they find racoons, chase them up a tree, and then stay at the base of the tree and bark. At that point you walk to them (they can range very far), find the racoon in the tree, and shoot it.
My uncle has a guy who skins and streches the hides for $2 a piece, and gthen he sells them for $7-9 a piece. Usually he gets 4-5 coons a night, but the night we went out we only got one in like 4 hours.
On sunday I got to shoot a lot of guns, including a 300 savage rifle that was my grandfathers, and then belonged to my dad when he was younger; my dad's nephew (who is 5 years younger than him and they were raised together by my dad's sister as brothers) has the gun now. I did pretty well; hit the bullseye with the 22 caliber rifle, and hit a bunch of bottles and cans with the 20 guage shotgun. My little sister kicked ass with the shotgun.
Had a real good, for lack of a better word, white trash thanksgiving dinner, including a butterball turkey, stovetop stuffing, frozen hashed brown potatoes mixed with chedda cheese and sour cream in a casserole, and a broccoli cheese rice which I susect was the a dried mix with extra frozen broccoli mixed in. Also caramel apple pie, pumpkin pie and other assorted things. And of course the beer of choice was keystone light! Kick ass.
posted by Stella Bella at 12:31 PM
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