Rhett’s voice crackled over the cell phone. “Dad, the gun is so far off I can’t even hit the paper”.
I pondered this bit of bad news for a few seconds.
“Let’s see, we have been planning this trip for 2 years, you are on a flight tomorrow at 5 AM, you can’t have more than a half hour of daylight left, and you are just now sighting in the rifles?” I asked incredulously.
There was an audible throat clearing on the other side of the line. “I have been really busy” was the final lame excuse.
Despite myself, I chuckled. Twenty year old males never cease to amaze me. There is simply no way I could have ever been like that. Right!
“Ok, if you can’t get on the paper at 100 yards, that new scope is way way off. Hunker down abut fifty feet away from the target. Follow the sight in procedures just as if you were 100 yards out.. When you get it reasonably dialed in, move back to shooting distance and finish up with a few check shots. And don’t even think about missing that friggin plane tomorrow!”
I heard the sigh of relief 2,000 miles away. We had a plan.
I was already on my way to our caribou hunt far up in northeastern Canada. Twice we had postponed this long anticipated father-son treat, once due to Rhett’s delightfully unanticipated playoff schedule for his senior year championship football team. The other delay had been caused by a less than delightful back surgery of mine.
Now, after the scramble of the summer,wedged in between his back to college itinerary, and Jordan’s wedding, we were finally on our way. Maybe. In the next installment we will examine the case of the missing sleeping bag. Stay tuned!