We had a set of tracks that were one half mile north and were a very big part of the city of Aberdeen SD history, We were just outside the city limits, right across from the end of the main runway of the municipal air port. It was still a rural area, and to a 12 year old whos dad owned the Harley dealership, it was a non-stop adventure, at least as long as it was daylight! I would take a step thru Harley M50, they got about 100 miles to a gallon, and sling my trusty Ruger 10/22 Sporter around my neck resting across my arms, and head out. I always had about a half dozen mags, and pocketful's of loose rounds, as you never know when the gophers might launch a counter attack!
... As I was yet lacking any type of License to drive, it was in the road ditch all the way, but I had it fairly compacted with my travels and it was only a minute or two and I was at the tracks. Now the stretch I traveled was only a mile, it seemed like a whole nother country, and as far as I can remember, no one ever stopped me or asked what I was doing on the railroad rightaway ?? So, I'd go right down the middle of the tracks and shoot gophers as they appeared! I swear to God I thought he earth was hollow and filled with gophers! I must admit, most of my success, when there was some was probably due to ricochets, as I was nearsighted and the trigger pull on the Ruger was about three time the weight of the gun?... But, being easy to load, and fast to fire, I don't recall ever bringing home any ammo?
.... Sometimes the carburetor would foam out, and I had to re-start, and by the time I was ready to go home, i couldn't feel my hands or feet... The next day I'd do it again... I don't think in the time that i did this, my dad ever asked what i was doing.. I believe he thought if I was kept busy, and not breaking his stuff, all was good?... I guess in the long run, he was right.... Best to all, til.....lat'r....GT...
