My dad grew up in Eastern Oregon. In those days it was more rural, and of course it was back in "those days" so he and his brothers all had rifles.
My uncle told me a story of them taking their .22's to a junkyard after a rain. There was a junked car with a dented in roof. He climbed up on top, stood with legs shoulder width apart, and fired his rifle into a puddle of water trapped in the divot.
The way he tells it, the bullet flatted out when it hit the water and put a very large hole in the rusty roof. No injuries though.
|