There's only so much of the local Friday night band 'The Welder's Daughter' you can handle at the Trapper; so we decided to hit the Dempster Road, have a BBQ and shoot shit instead. Perhaps you can tell from the goofy smile on my face or my stance, I'm not much of a riffle kinda gal. But everyone's got guns up here so when in Rome.... Despite growing up in rural Nova Scotia with an uncle who thoroughly enjoyed giving cars, guns and drugs to minors, I can't remember the last time I shot a riffle. I remember my uncle Brucie teaching my brother to use his riffle that must have weighed as much as he did at the time. He was 8.
When I shot the gun, miles off target, I was surprised because the fire and kick back are considerably more powerful than I remember from Duck Hunt. And kind of addictive.
After burgers and guns we went to the dump to see if we could find a bear. Sure enough there was a Grizzly and 3-4 Black bears. We got about 5-10 metres away before they would bolt off to another pile of garbage. For a big animal they can move fast! Sure was reassuring to know their immediate reaction was to run AWAY from us.... they must have seen me with the riffle earlier...
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