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Showing content with the highest reputation on 03/19/2024 in all areas

  1. Its 2024 is your club stuck in the 90’s? Nope, most of our members are in their 80's.
    4 points
  2. Just picked her up and man is she beautiful! Gotta lop the barrel down to 22in(maybe,probably)....32inches now....kinda heavy,lol...gonna be great with 10g palerider loads...
    3 points
  3. Couple of rough but fun props for this weekend. The 'TNT' plunger is spring loaded, would have been fun if it had detonated a primer
    3 points
  4. A few hundred years later St. John Chrysostom expanded on that: For men of understanding do not say that the sword is to blame for murder, nor wine for drunkenness, nor strength for outrage, nor courage for foolhardiness, but they lay the blame on those who make an improper use of the gifts which have been bestowed upon them by God, and punish them accordingly.
    3 points
  5. 72.44308110509933 Fixed it for ya!
    3 points
  6. 72.44308……… You’re welcome! CJ
    3 points
  7. Okay , everybody!! I just got off the phone with Forty! He sounded pretty good and he was in good spirits! He’s in the NorCal District VA hospital in Prescott. He told me that they have made some excellent progress and that he already is feeling much better. He figures to be in the hospital for at least another week! That’s all I have for now!! Keep it up!!
    3 points
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  10. When you arrive by horseback without your eyeglasses, granola bars and heart meds - we can all acknowledge your dedication to the era. But since you used the paved road to get there, GPS navigation to find the range and the internet to debate the topic - I don't see any moral conflict to using modern technology regarding registration or payment. We are just PRETENDING to be old west cowboys - the Pony Express is long since deceased.
    2 points
  11. That headache I got somewhere around 1965-1966 is coming back…
    2 points
  12. Get ahold of Outlaw Gambler
    2 points
  13. How ironic that using "archaic and outdated methods" to participate in a game in which it is mandated to use firearms/dress of a pre 1900 design is now frowned upon.
    2 points
  14. PARDON ME, SIR, IF I SPEAK THE TRUTH When the chief editor looks up and sees a clerk speaking harshly to a child, it scarcely merits a frown. When the elevator closes behind the child and descends, and the chief editor only then realizes who that child was, the moment grows somewhat more concerning. When the elevator opened four minutes later and the same child – a lad of about ten years, rides out of the elevator on an Appaloosa mare, his jaw set and his eyes hard and accusing as he glares at the clerk who’d obviously confused himself with someone important – well, this sight is enough to bring a newsroom to a fast and absolutely silent halt. The chief editor came over, looked up at the young man who’d distinguished himself on the street just outside, not two nights before. “John Rowley,” he said, reaching up and extending his hand. “Michael Keller,” the rider replied, leaning down and gripping the older man’s soft hand with a firm and callused hand. “How can we help you, Mr. Keller?” “Your newspaper spoke poorly of your police response,” Michael said, his voice carrying well – he was obviously accustomed to speaking, as he’d pitched his voice to be clearly heard at distance, and he enunciated his words with a precision not usually heard in one of his few years. “Oh?” “Sir, there is an expected response time. They don’t have a crystal ball and neither do I. Someone has to call them, they have to decide and assign who goes where. My sister and I were already there and we saw what needed done, so we … did.” “ ‘Expected response time,’ “ the editor said slowly, eyeing young Michael with an appraising eye. “I don’t usually hear such language from a boy.” “No, sir, I don’t reckon you do,” Michael agreed, grinning, “but most of your boys don’t grow up listening to my Pa talk like that.” “Your … ‘Pa.’ Did he put you up to this?” “No, sir. I read your paper and I knew you likely didn’t have the whole story.” “And what is the whole story, sir?” Michael leaned over, crossed his forearms on his saddle horn, shoved his Stetson well back on his head and grinned – a contagious, sincere, boyishly innocent grin. “It’s just as I said, sir. Your police had to be called, they had to make sense of the call, then they had to start from the word go. That takes time.” He paused, then added, “Angela and I were already there.” “Shouldn’t you have waited for the police to take proper charge of the situation?” “No, sir,” Michael said firmly. “Something needed done right away, and we did what was needful, right away. “It’s like a house fire, sir. Every minute of fire progression requires many more minutes than that of extinguishment. If you have criminals that already shot the place up and now they’re shooting at one another, you have to shut ‘em down fast before they cause any more harm.” Michael’s eyes were just as direct as his words. “We did just that.” “You took a life.” “No, sir, we did not.” Michael’s young voice was firm, uttered with conviction, and he came upright in his saddle as he said it. “You shot the man dead.” “We did that, sir, but he killed himself. I bear no responsibility if a man throws himself on the spear I hold. If that fellow bears a weapon at me, he is bought and paid for and his blood does not stain my hands. He made the choice and he died by his own poor choice.” “That is … an interesting defense,” the chief editor said thoughtfully. “Thank you, sir.” The chief editor offered his hand again, and Michael took it without hesitation, and the photograph of a boy on a tall horse, a mounted child of the Colorado mountains, horseback in the middle of a major newspaper’s newsroom, shaking hands with a grandfatherly-looking chief editor, made the front page of the afternoon edition. Not an hour later, in a hospital corridor on the Confederate world of Tortuga, a clutch of nursing students were gathered around a still-warm, just-printed newspaper, an edition held open by several hands: there were murmurs, abbreviated gestures: the paper crackled a little as delicate, feminine fingers gripped the fold, pulled it down, as a pair of pale eyes under a winged cap looked at them and asked gently, “Something interesting?” The students swung around, surrendered the paper to their mentor: they were clustered around her like chicks in blue-and-white pinstriped dresses, more watching Angela than looking at their just-abandoned publication. Knowing glances shot across the small space between them: a voice whispered, “She’ll say it!” and more heads than one nodded in agreement. Angela’s pale eyes ran through the article, tightened a little at the corners, they way they did when she was pleased: she nodded a little, looked long at the picture, at the image of a young boy in blue jeans and a Stetson, astride a spotty, bored-looking, tail-slashing Appaloosa mare, in the middle of a crowded newsroom, with clerks, reporters, secretaries and a photographer openly staring: the boy was in an agreeable handclasp with an up-reaching older man: beneath the photograph, the caption, “Young deputy sets the record straight.” Angela knew her brother was not a deputy, she knew he would not falsely identify himself as such: from the article, she knew he’d come to give due credit to the jurisdictional constabulary. Angela folded the paper, handed it back with one hand, cupped her hand over her mouth with the other. “Well?” one of her clinical students prompted. “Say it!” Angela laughed, thrust a chin at the newspaper and declared, “Show-off!”
    2 points
  15. Schoolmarm took out this morning and went to the grocery store by herself. She got there and back without any problems, but she was worn out by the time she got home! It’s good to see her finally starting to push it a little!! Home health changed my bandages this morning and checked out the incision. Said it was looking good. Hopefully, come Wednesday, the doctor will sew it up for good!
    2 points
  16. A few years ago, Schoolmarm and I took what for her was a bucket list trip! She had just finished up breast cancer treatment and decided it was time to go see some of the WEST! Along our itinerary were stops to visit a few of the people that we had become acquainted with on the Wire! We ended up staying with Forty and his little dog, Trinket, for a few days!! As a result, Schoolmarm is enamored with that ol’ cuss and we talk on the phone with him, sometimes four or five times a week!! We both consider him among our closest friends!!
    2 points
  17. Which Campground is closest to Range?
    1 point
  18. I've got one of those! And a pedestal for stand alone instead of wall mount, pretty cool.
    1 point
  19. WELLL! Schoolmarm lied!! She said she wasn’t going to cook again for a few days. While I was gone all day, yesterday, she did biscuits, bacon, and sliced up some tomatoes! Hatfield brought home a big mess of fried chicken tenders last night. I had chicken biscuits with bacon, tomato, and cheese for supper last night! The home health lady just finished rebandaging my foot. Said it looked good.
    1 point
  20. HA! Indeed. Mrs. Vader just had our first daughter and we came to be close to the inlaws
    1 point
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