Have Coffee and Guns, Will Travel

It was a pleasure to go out this morning and put rounds down range with my good friend Jon.  We drove out to a small plot of land outside of Sloan.  Jon brought coffee and I brought smokes.  We both brought guns.  Beautiful guns.  Some old, some new, all like pets to the two of us.  In the early morning sunlight, which glinted off the brass casings of our ammo, we had our own version of 2nd Grade Show and Tell.  I showed my 10-22, 30-30 and .243.  Jon showed me his .223 and his .357 seven-shot revolver.  We were both giddy as we ran out through the desert and placed empty bottles here and there.  We got back to the car, had a smoke and drank our coffee, talking about hunts both past and future. There is nothing better than sharing time such as this with a good friend out in the middle of nowhere.  We donned hearing protection and then the fun really started.  Guns barked, brass flew and glass exploded in brilliant flashes in the sunlight.  We shot.  We chuckled.  We cheered. We reveled in the glory of senseless destruction of glass and dirt.  In the short time we had, our friendship grew a little stronger, bonded with gun smoke and laughter.