NEBRASKATHON: Day 6 – Back to Iowa
We made it home from BRAN. Clearly, since I’ve posted twice since then.
On day six, the crew traveled from O'Neill to Norfolk, through the rain, and collapsed on the floor of their own home.
So we all slept hard. The next day, I wandered out to my old house, which my parents are preparing for sale. Sad. News.
My horses looked good, though. And smelled horsey.
When I was 11, my dad finished laying the house’s brick driveway, and we all put our handprints in the cement. For some reason, I felt it important to put my WHOLE name in stone.
We wanted to go shooting. The Sturgii own an old german Mauser rifle – and Ken bought fresh ammo for it in high school. My dad and Ken’s dad inspected it.
Can you see the tiny crescent and moon? These babies were minted in Turkey.
Me and my pops, and then a photo he took of me…most of me.
My favorite gun is my dad’s .22 rifle. Little kick, not much noise, and I can aim it!
We checked the makeshift palette-target – MY shots were good.
…And that night we went back to Iowa. Crossing the Missouri, it was about a mile out of its banks. Good luck, Missouri River Valley.
There are more photos of ALL of BRAN on my Flickr page. Go see!