Gun Encounters

There have only been a couple of times when I have encountered people with guns (outside of a shooting range) who were not police. I was writing about pocket pistols the other day and all these old incidents came trickling back.

New Mexico

Almost thirty years ago I was hitchhiking in New Mexico from Santa Fe to Cloudcroft. Somewhere South of Albequerque a guy (Mexican, I believe) driving a white Chevrolet pickup truck gave me a ride. He had a great big black six gun lying on the dashboard of his truck. But he had weed and beer, so we had fine ride. At some point on the drive he pulls over to the side of the road, picks up the six gun and puts it in his lap. "What's going on?" I wonder. I don't know if I said anything or not, probably did, but he tells me that there is vehicle that has been following him for quite a while, and he wants to find out who they are. No one that was interested in him, they drove on by, the gun went back on the dashboard, and we got back on the road.

I think the reason the gun was on his dashboard, and the reason pickup truck rifle racks are over the rear windown, is if the weapon is in plain sight, it cannot be considered concealed. A legal nicety. I think the deal is that most places don't allow you to carry loaded weapons concealed inside the vehicle within easy reach of the driver, unless they are locked up.

Texas

Then there was the incident in Houston. I never saw the gun, but my girlfriend at the time says the guy was holding one. We had been out at some nightclub drinking, the club was closing and we wanted to keep on, so we collected some hangers-oners and headed home. Except when we got on the road we were going the wrong way and there is no place to turn a convoy around. Finally I settle on an apartment complex and pull in. I have just finished turning the car around and am ready to leave when this black man shows up wanting to know who hit his car. I didn't hit his car, I was just going to ignore him, but girlfriend says I better talk to him. So I get out of the car and talk to him for a bit. I don't know if I got through to him or not, but I made my explanation, got back in the car and drove off. Later on girlfriend tells me he had a gun. I never noticed. Probably because I was focused on my mission of talking to this guy and in my impaired condition, didn't have any mental capacity left over to notice non-essentials, like whether he had a gun or not.

Five years later, more or less, a friend of mine and I decided to go shooting out in the boonies. I was driving an old Toyota and apparently the fuel pump had decided to give out. So we stopped at the auto parts store and picked up an electric fuel pump and with a screwdriver and a knife we spliced it into the fuel line and charged off on our mission. We ended up at a quarry in the middle of nowhere where we perforated any number of cans. We discovered that pop cans did not make very good targets for rifles. If you just came close to one, the breeze from the passing bullet was enough to knock it off it's perch. So you think, score, I hit it! But then you walk over and pick it up and there's narry a hole in the can. So we set a rock on top of the can and went back and tried again. This time, try as we might, we could not get the can to fall over. Walk back up to the target and we find the can has been perforated like a cheese grater, but the rock is still holding it in place. A few more shots and the can would have collapsed.

We get done shooting, get back in the car to leave, and the turkey won't start. Starved for fuel, just like last time. What's going on? Electric pump is delivering lots of fuel, but nothing going down the throat of the carberator. We futz with it for a bit, but it's getting late, and we aren't making any progress. Looks like we are going to have to hoof it. I leave my gun in the trunk of the car, but Grainger takes his with him, and we start walking. And walking. I think we were probably about ten miles from the main road, and there is hardly any traffic on the this dead end road. Shoot, there isn't any traffic. We must have walked for a couple hours before a import pickup stops to pick us up. It is pitch black out now. I cannot be sure, but I believe the driver had a sawed off shotgun in his lap pointing in our general direction. I think that's what gave him the confidence to stop and pick up two yahoos with a rifle in the middle of Texas in the middle of the night. He gave us a ride to the main road where we found a phone and my friend called his wife who, mad as hell, came and collected our sorry selves.

We came back the next day to pick up my car and we discovered that the needle valve in the float chamber had come upscrewed so far that it had forced the float all the way down and there was longer any motion possible in the valve. The only gas that was getting in was leaking through the threads and that wasn't enough to feed the engine. Only time I have ever seen this happen.

Around about this same time a friend of mine bought a black powder six gun. A group of us went out to a construction site to try it out. I think there were four of us. We find a big old muddy plank lying by a big mound of dirt, so we set the plank up on edge to use as a target. The first shot goes bang, and then zing! It bounces off the plank and goes flying by our heads. We went to inspect the plank and the bullet had not even made a dent. There was a smudge of lead where the bullet had struck, but that was it. After that we all lined up in back of the shooter.

Arizona

Another time I was waiting for my car to be serviced and a guy came in with a handgun in a holster on his belt. That made me a little nervous until somebody asked him about it. Turns out he was a bounty hunter. Okay, he's got a good reason for it.

One time my wife and went for hike in Northern Arizona with another couple. I brought a handgun because there had just been a report about a crazy escaped convict from California attacking a couple at another camp ground. So we are walking along the trail and we encounter another two couples walking the other way. They all are wearing great big six guns on their hips, and they looked quite cheerful about it.

France

Once was in Paris in a train station. There were soldiers standing around with sub-machine guns. They were in groups of three, one officer and two enlisted men. We saw several such groups. They didn't bother me too much, I thought okay, they take their security a little more seriously over here.

Oregon

Then there was the time I got stopped by the police in Beaverton for having an expired license. Turns out both my plates and my drivers license had expired. I was a busy guy, I don't have time to keep up with this nonsense. The cop asks me for my registration. I go to look in the glovebox and he asks me if I have gun in there. I tell him I don't, but he scurries around to the other side of the car to watch as I rummage in the glove box. No gun appears, he comes back to the drivers window and writes me a ticket.

Another time we were driving on a road leading out of town into the country and we saw a small group of teenage boys and one of them was carrying what looked like a 22 rifle. They made me nervous. Can't tell from looking at people just what kind of yahoos they are, and teenage boys, well, hmph, they're probably up to no good.

That is all.