RSKY
Veteran Member
- Joined
- Oct 5, 2003
- Messages
- 2,484
- Tractor
- Kioti CK20S
One spring day when I was a kid my dad and I got rid of some poison oak growing on an old stables. This was back in 1969 when there was nothing available like RoundUp. Dad and I filled all the 'lard cans' we had with salt from the smokehouse salt box. I'm talking about 30 to 50 gallons of salt. Loaded all the salt in the pickup and drove over to the stables. We carefully chopped into the base of the vines where they entered the ground leaving the vine standing. Then we piled salt up around the vine over the wound. Salt was also spread an inch or two deep three or four feet around the vines. We took what salt was left and spread it on some clumps of Johnson Grass growing at the edge of the field. It was raining lightly as we did this and when we finished we got our shotguns out of the truck and went squirrel hunting (more on this later). The salt killed the vines and I guess made them brittle. Anyway I remember that Dad put on leather gloves that fall and easily pulled the vines off the old stables, poured gasoline on them, yes gasoline, and set them on fire. No more poison oak grew up from the roots. As a matter of fact nothing grew around that side of the stables for ten or twenty years after that. If you don't mind making the ground sterile for a few years give this a try before this fall.
Now for the rest of the story.
As I said above it was raining lightly while we took handfuls of salt and spread it on the ground around the poison oak. We went back to the pickup and wiped our hands off on some towels we had brought, got our shotguns, and went hunting. Dad had a double barrel, don't remember what brand, I had a single barrel, single shot Stevens. I don't remember if we had any luck hunting but I do remember getting my gun out the next week and noticing that the barrel had rusted quite a bit. I cleaned the gun and oiled it and thought nothing about it. Dad did not hunt any more that year. Now jump forward ten years or so. I am now married and my wife and I stop by to see my parents. Dad is at work but Mom is there and so is my older sister and her 14 year old son. He had brought his shotgun to go squirrel hunting and wanted me to go with him. I had no gun with me so he said get Granddads old double barrel. I got the gun and we walked out into the woods. After a while I saw a squirrel and shot it. We walked over to pick it up and I broke open the shotgun and reloaded the left barrel. When I closed it the gun fired. The shot hit a small tree that my nephew was leaning on. It missed his chest by less than a foot. He yelled and said what you doing you nearly shot me. Bark from the tree had stung his face and arm. I showed him that I didn't even have my hands near the trigger. The gun was broke open, reloaded, and closed. Nothing happened. Again broke open and closed. Nothing happened. Third time broke open and closed. The left barrel fired. Broke open, reloaded, and closed again. Both barrels fired.
I was tempted to throw the gun in a nearby pond but didn't. I took it home and told Mom to not let Dad get it out without telling him what had happened. He took it to a gunsmith the next day. The gunsmith said that the gun was coroded and rusted inside worse than anything he had ever seen, looked like somebody had poured it full of wet salt years ago.
Sorry to get off topic like this but nearly thirty years later I still wake up in the middle of the night with a nightmare about shooting my oldest sisters only child.
Thanks for listening.
R
Now for the rest of the story.
As I said above it was raining lightly while we took handfuls of salt and spread it on the ground around the poison oak. We went back to the pickup and wiped our hands off on some towels we had brought, got our shotguns, and went hunting. Dad had a double barrel, don't remember what brand, I had a single barrel, single shot Stevens. I don't remember if we had any luck hunting but I do remember getting my gun out the next week and noticing that the barrel had rusted quite a bit. I cleaned the gun and oiled it and thought nothing about it. Dad did not hunt any more that year. Now jump forward ten years or so. I am now married and my wife and I stop by to see my parents. Dad is at work but Mom is there and so is my older sister and her 14 year old son. He had brought his shotgun to go squirrel hunting and wanted me to go with him. I had no gun with me so he said get Granddads old double barrel. I got the gun and we walked out into the woods. After a while I saw a squirrel and shot it. We walked over to pick it up and I broke open the shotgun and reloaded the left barrel. When I closed it the gun fired. The shot hit a small tree that my nephew was leaning on. It missed his chest by less than a foot. He yelled and said what you doing you nearly shot me. Bark from the tree had stung his face and arm. I showed him that I didn't even have my hands near the trigger. The gun was broke open, reloaded, and closed. Nothing happened. Again broke open and closed. Nothing happened. Third time broke open and closed. The left barrel fired. Broke open, reloaded, and closed again. Both barrels fired.
I was tempted to throw the gun in a nearby pond but didn't. I took it home and told Mom to not let Dad get it out without telling him what had happened. He took it to a gunsmith the next day. The gunsmith said that the gun was coroded and rusted inside worse than anything he had ever seen, looked like somebody had poured it full of wet salt years ago.
Sorry to get off topic like this but nearly thirty years later I still wake up in the middle of the night with a nightmare about shooting my oldest sisters only child.
Thanks for listening.
R
