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Forget the Snipes, Just Run


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Back in the Summer between Junior High and High School, a bunch of us took a couple of younger guys out “snipe hunting.” It was about dusk, and we were set up in one of those mesquite groves that dot the South Texas landscape. Before the “hunt” began, we built a fire and sat around it just chewing the fat waiting for nightfall. Then, one of the gang dropped a handful of .22 rounds into the fire and quietly sneaked off.  The rest of us were still sitting around the fire when the first shells began exploding. Nobody was hurt, but the most likely injury would have come from stumbling into some cactus or simply falling down in the rush to get heck away from there.

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