A funny story involving a pistol and an iPod (and two complete idiots)

I have so much going on in my life right now, I don’t even know where to begin.  I mean, everything is good, spring is here, the snow is gone, and now we’re just waiting for the river to break up, but I have a lot going on personally.  And while nothing inspires me more than my own personal drama, well;  I’m just at a loss.  BUT!

I do have a hilarious story to share about an event that happened last September during a camping trip.

Howard’s brother Christopher came to visit us for a week and to also hunt because September here is Moose hunting season.  Our friend Brian has property down the river and his uncle was also visiting.  We thought it would be a great time to make it a big group hunting/camping trip.  So, Howard, Christopher, and I loaded up in our boat and Brian, Dusty, and Brian’s uncle Mitch loaded up in his.

We set up camp, cooked dinner, and in no time, the boys were ready to go see if they could get their bull moose.  I really didn’t want to go hunting, I mainly went for the socialization; so Dusty agreed to stay behind with me in case a bear spotted our camp and decided he was hungry.  Brian and Mitch went in their boat and Howard and Christopher went in ours.  Brian left his pistol with us just in case.

Of course, right after they left, it dawned on me and Dusty that God forbid, a bear did come upon us, and the pistol didn’t scare him, we’d have to jump into the river and swim for our lives.  We quickly put it out of our minds and he opened a couple of beers for us.  Dusty and I, never lacking in conversation, gossiped, laughed, played with Bait and Tackle (Dusty’s dogs, yes, I think their names are hilarious too), and tended to the campfire.

The bugs were out in full force and I swear to God, the more smoke we made from the fire, the more bugs we attracted.  We would swat at them, cuss at them, spray bug spray at them, but they kept coming.  Finally, I suggested we get into my and Howard’s tent because it was as big as a damn house and had big screened windows so we could still look out on the river as well as all around us.  We took our lawn chairs into the tent along with our beers and settled in, sneering at the bugs that could no longer get to us.

I decided that we needed a little music and being that no one brought a radio and Brian’s iPod speakers were on his boat, I rigged my iPod by hanging it from the very center of the tent and turned it up to full volume.  The sound was just loud enough from my tiny earbud headphones.  We gossiped, drank some more beer, laughed, and eventually went back out to check the fire and the bug situation.  The bugs had finally moved on so we brought the chairs back out beside the fire and continued our banter.

During a pause in our conversation, I heard a faint “rustling” noise.  I immediately looked to the dogs to see their reaction because we all know dogs have a keen sense of hearing.  Their ears were back and they were tensed up.  My heart started to race as I asked Dusty:

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he replied

“That…listen!” I said

He concentrated then looked at me and said:

“Oh shit, I do hear that.”

“Oh my God” I choked out

Dusty, having grown up in the Alaskan wilderness kept his cool but was still nervous.  He went for the pistol.

I was scared shitless.  I just knew either a bear or a moose was stalking our camp.  The dogs stood up and looked in the direction just behind our tent.

I jumped behind Dusty and squeaked out a:

“Oh my God, what is that?!”

“I Don’t KNOW!” he hissed back at me, no doubt, a little annoyed at my panic.

We still didn’t see anything but Dusty stood with the pistol ready as I cowered behind him.  (Some damn Alaskan woman I am, right?)

I listened a little more closely to see if I could tell exactly which direction the sound was coming from.

Then I realized what it actually was.

“Oh my fucking God, it’s my damn iPod!

We both sighed loudly with relief.

Dusty still held the pistol.  I went over to the tent but not before turning to Dusty and hissing:

“Careful where you aim that damn thing, don’t you dare shoot me!”

I was still a wee bit panicked as pistols make me nervous as well.

Dusty put the pistol down and bent over laughing.  I took the iPod down and turned it off and the dogs immediately relaxed and went back to whatever they were doing.

Then I started laughing so hard, I thought I was going to cry.

One of us said: “We are complete idiots…we can never tell anyone about this.”  We both agreed on that.

Of course that meant that as soon as the boys returned to camp, we told them.  They agreed we were idiots too.  And frankly two idiots with a pistol is way more scary than a moose or bear any day.

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