Winter Rites

One of the winter rites is my escapade on ice. At least, once each winter I do the Charlie Brown football type spill. Today was the day.

I was packing up at the range. To get back to the car I had to cross this glacier like ice sheet that had formed lasted night. The ice was about an inch thick, but I have successfully navigated this hazard for the last two hours. So there I was with my orange gun bucket in one hand and a shooting bag in the other, walking like a grampa (careful!).

One step, two steps, then things did not feel quite right. The horizon flipped over and WHAM!!!! I am flat on my back. The gun bucket is bouncing on the hard ground and stuff is flying all over the place. Two guys coming back from hanging targets witnessed my back flip and asked if I was okay.

Oh yeah, I'm fine. My pride is a bit bent, but I have been here before and I guess I'll be here again. So I picked myself up and got back on my feet. More grampa steps back to the car.