Waking early, I tiptoe to the shower. Hope the drum of hot water will make up for a night marked with too many drinks and too little sleep. Drying off I feel more lively. Can’t help but grin at the fun from the night before. A homemade dinner from Linda, pictures and stories about growing up in a family band from Richard, unexpectedly becoming the model for an on-the-fly creation of a lady liberty costume, turning an adjacent pool player into my coach and banking the eight ball for the win, getting a lesson in twerking and an education in karaoke – from the comfort of the crowd, not the stage, mind you. It’s worth feeling a bit sluggish this morning for the memories of those silly times. And as Oscar Wilde said, Everything in moderation, including moderation.
Having made plans for shooting lessons two months ago, I’m excited for the days activities. Filling a mug with coffee, I crack open my laptop to knock off a few to-dos in the early hours before rest of the crew awakes. The beauty of working on the road is that I can set up anywhere. The challenge is eking out moments here and there to get work done.
Rolling down the dirt road, I stare out the side window. Take in the pastures and farmland that surround us. Enjoy the feeling of the sun warming my face, the breeze flowing through outstretched fingers.
Climbing out of the backseat, I look around. Wander past a familiar, but odd looking Honda bike. Run a finger along the seat and realize I need to improve my ability to recall bike makes and models. Climbing the stairs, we enter the main building. Shane calls out from the back. Greets us and shows us around a bit. Having spent years in the military and Special Operations, there’s no doubt he knows his way around a gun. The more surprising and thoroughly appreciated thing is that he also happens to be an excellent teacher. Calm, knowledgeable and thorough.
Walking over to the range area we set up targets. Steel for the satisfying ping with a handgun and paper for the power of large semiautomatic weapons.
The guys go about laying out weapons and bullets of every imaginable size. Safety protocol covered, Matt hands me earplugs, Shane tells me to step closer to the target and gives me a handgun. I wrap my right hand around it. Adjust it so the thumb-pointer webbing is securely tight agains the back. Fold my left hand around it. Take a breath and pull the trigger. It’s amazing what force can come from incrementally squeezing a single finger.
I smile upon hearing the resounding ping of metal on metal. Look at Shane grinning. Quickly apologize as he reminds me to take a finger off the trigger, click the safety into place. We spend the next couple hours cycling through guns. Big ones, small ones, loud ones, louder ones. Rich tells me what each one is, explains that a lot of them are beasts of his own making. I had no idea a person could even make a gun, am doubly impressed and intrigued. I learn how to load and unload. Quickly realize a calming breath makes for improved accuracy.
Pulling the ear plugs out, I ask Shane about the trainings he hosts, the plans for the property. Hearing that he teaches all manner of survival, I get excited.
My main goal in life is to be MVP of the zombie apocalypse team, I tell him earnestly. I’d love to learn any and all survival skills.
He asks if we have time to go through a few exercises. Kelsey nods, she doesn’t have to be at work for a few more hours. Matt, Rich and I look at each other. Who cares if we’ll be setting up camp in the dark, this opportunity is definitely worth it.
Heart racing from the surprise of the last drill, we say goodbye. Agree that we need to come back for a full training as soon as possible.
Having decided to leave Rufio parked for this adventure, I load Baylor up. Disperse cookies and jump into the truck.
Awash in the evening golden glow, pastures turn to tidy rows of trees ready for harvest, give way to unruly swamplands. Slipping my sandals off, I lean over and turn up the music. Set my feet on the dash and settle back for a care-free, backwoods vacation.
175 days down. Many to come.
