Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Gunshots in the forest.
Last night around 4:30 in the morning, there was a flurry of gun shots off in the mountains. Not really near here, though it's hard to judge. It couldn't have been too far away, either, because I heard them quite clearly, and the very thick forest attenuates sound at this time of year. This is the second time I've been woken up this way since the last week of July.
This was more than one weapon, and it sounded like pistols though under the circumstances that's just a guess. I had to go shut the dogs up, because they were going berserk. The quickest way to make them settle down is to talk quietly to them, pet them, and throw a couple of handfuls of dog biscuits on the porch. Once they've let me know there's an issue, I want them to be quiet.
Didn't hear anything, so I went inside and turned on the scanners. Listened intently for half an hour, but apparently nobody called anything in. I never went back to bed, and spent the rest of the night in "silent running", sitting there with the scanners on in the background, just listening. I had turned in late so I am dragging right now. Nap time coming up.
There must have been a problem on one of the old forest service roads, between people who meet out there in the dark hours of the night. I leave it to you who would be doing that and why. It's possible somebody parked on one of the old trails that the forest service has closed. It's easy to drive over the ancient berms that once blocked them. Maybe there were campers and they cut loose at a noise in the night. Not everyone follows the axiom that you don't fire unless you can distinctly see your target. My own suspicion is that this was our gang bangers from Hall county. They frequently do business in the national forest. There has been automatic weapons fire out there in the dead of night in the past, and that wasn't casual campers. Part of the problem with blending into the forest so well so people won't know you are there, is that sometimes people you don't want around come close, not knowing you are there.
In all probability there was some kind of hunt going on, and this was just a foi de joie. It's common for hound dog men to build a fire, and sit around it drinking through the night while they listen to the dogs bay. This isn't supposed to happen in the national forest but it does. The old time people here don't care a damn for federal boundary lines. It's my own inherently suspicious nature that makes me assume some sinister purpose behind the racket.