I just stood there looking cute and when something moved, I'd shoot.

 

Funny thing about shooting Olympic Trap in Regina. The traps were voice activated, say "Pull" even quietly and a target is released, BTW Olympic targets fly twice as fast as regular North American targets. So, being #1 on the line I was entitled to and requested to see, a 'free' bird, "Can I see a bird please?" I look and don't see anything, (I said the targets were fast) obviously the marker didn't hear me. Louder! "Can I see a bird please?" A voice from behind me says, "You just did." 'Shit!" says I. Remember....voice activated traps? A bird flies out in front of me, I watch it in disbelief. "Lost" says the voice behind me. 

Right off the bat I've been charged with a lost bird. Oh well, perhaps I can still get 24 out of 25 targets. The shooting continues down the line thru four more shooters til it comes back to my turn again. I'm rattled by missing my first target and as my turn to shoot arrives I snap my gun closed with a bit too much exuberance (SNAP!), then watch in dismay as yet another unmolested bird flies away before I'm can even mount my gun. "Lost." Intones the voice behind me. Totally off kilter by now I think I missed a total  7 birds (targets) in that round. Oh the Humiliation.

This happened to me at The Western Canada Games, right there in front of God and a large audience. Oh well I wasn't the worst shooter on our NWT team and in the end we did get a Bronze Medal for coming tied third.

 

 

Speaking of soot bombs. Ho-ho, don't let this happen to you.

One spring we were re-surfacing the gravel on the highway between Ft Rae/Edzo. Four or five tractors with belly dumps. There was an eighty five mile drive between Yellowknife and the gravel pit we were to haul from. We used the old Ft Byers as our staging and parking area. To save fuel and time Dick R had rented a house for us in Edzo, about sixty five miles from Yk. The house was completely unfurnished, we slept on foamies on the floor and ate standing up. We were working 72 hour weeks, Sunday was our day off. Actually 72 hour driving weeks, after we'd finishied hauling each day, we'd spend a couple of hours each evening fixing tires by hand, (that's why I hate 'Bud' wheels). The trucks were getting paid by the ton/miles, Dick, very generously I thought, was paying us 50% of what the truck made.

I was very proud of the truck I was driving, it was a one year old, 1975, long frame Kenworth with a great big honkin' 350 Cummins. New to the company it had the biggest power in the fleet. I was tickled pink when Dick came and said he wanted me to drive it.

Edzo was/is a bedroom community for Ft Rae, (any northerners reading this will find that very funny). There is/was absolutely nothing to do in Edzo, at that time it didn't even have a corner store or gas station. I think, it has a golf course now. The road contract was from the government, they didn't work Sundays, so neither did we. Sundays were very boring, nothing to do except fix more tires and tinker with the truck.

The July long weekend rolled around and the job was shut down from Saturday night til Tuesday morning. Wow, two days off! We had water trucks working with us to keep the gravel workable and the dust down, our trucks were getting very dirty. I decided to go to town (Yk) for some much needed R&R , and some service on the truck. Still basically in its infancy RTL didn't even have a proper wash rack. On Sunday after the truck had been serviced I decided to take it down town and use one of the commercial wash racks there.

A quarter went a long way in a wash rack in those days, but it still cost me three or four bucks and a couple of hours to get all the mud off and get that old KW sparkling again like new. The wash rack had a roof over it but was open at each end. I even had an audience, some of the local 'truck groupies' came and watched.

Cuties! Oh wow, I was strutting around like a rooster. So, proud as Punch I got ol' # 16 all shiny and looking like new again.  She was a beaut!

They say, 'pride go-eth before a fall'..... Finished (not), forgetting I'd left the 'jake brake' in the on position when I shut her off, I hopped in the cab and started her up ! As soon as I took my foot off the pedal the 'jake' barked (all three banks), startling my groupies into giggles, and instantly filling the inside of the wash rack with diesel smoke and a huge cloud of tiny, black soot particles! My wash job was ruined, those little black soot particles of course stuck like glue to every part of the truck that was still wet! Mortified and pretending I'd meant to do that .................. I had to wash the whole top side of the truck again. Those little diesel soot particles are a bugger! They stick where they land and, if you touch them with a rag they just smear. It was past supper time and another four bucks, before I got the truck cleaned up again. My groupies for some reason, had lost interest and were long gone.

Oh the Humanity!