Bob Meinecke

We’d just reached the stop sign on Canyon Avenue, across from the old Coe mansion, the one you stop at just before you go up the hill to Skyline Drive, when a frantic doe mule deer vaulted over the black metal fence surrounding the Coe mansion and grounds and headed our way, double-time. Fortunately, we were the only car there at the time the incident occurred. Both the intersection and converging roadways were also clear of traffic, which was a good thing because that doe was not stopping for anything or anybody. She hit the ground running flat-out and shot past us, disappearing down an adjacent street.

And we’re STILL playing GOD in Wyoming. Or rather, the Wyoming Department of Game and Fish is. And still it’s with the little brook trout, which weirdly enough, are not a trout actually, but a char.

Just when you think you’ve seen it all, ugly jumps up and gobsmacks you alongside the head. Now, to be fair, ugly and beautiful are merely adjectives, words used to limit or qualify a noun. Me, I call them describers, as in most elephants are enormous, with enormous being the adjective. Unless it’s a pigmy elephant, which aren’t enormous, but considerably smaller. Not tiny, but smaller.

When Sandi and I moved to Cody from Bozeman, exactly 50 years ago this January, it was, quite literally, like moving from night into daylight, hunting-wise. Montana, in its greed

I’ve been writing this column for enough years that it’s no secret to anyone out there reading it regularly that I enjoy firearms oriented competitions and blood sports. Also, it’s no secret that I’m an ardent handgunner, preferring revolvers of traditional design, to those scope-sighted, cut-down rifles that are often called a handgun in print. Perhaps good for you, but not my cup of tea.

Last column of the year. Yeah, I know, this is already the new year, 2025. Immaterial. But most standard columns lamenting the passing of another year would probably be filled with opportunities missed, wonderments accomplished and forecasts for the new year. Won’t happen here. Well, maybe a resolution or two? Nah, no worries mate.

As many of my readers and most of my friends know, I favor a model 1911 Colts semi-automatic pistol or a reliable clone thereof for serious social wet work. I would enjoy the favors of a 1911 Commander sized 1911 clone in.40 S&W if I could find one, but apparently that ship has sailed. I do have a 1911 Springfield model in 9mm and side it another 1911 Springfield pistol in.45 acp. Both of these pistols are commander size.

The expression “oldie but goodie” fits great when we are talking about certain automobiles, like a 1957 two-door Chevrolet Bel Air hardtop, or a mint condition pre-war single action Colts

I haven’t bought a “new” rifle for years. The occasional ones I’ve traded for over the last few decades were new to me, but usually “experienced” and some fairly well used up. But for every one gained, one, or more, was lost in the trade. Having to trade favorite firearms is a fact of life for poor folks. It’s the only way you get to experience different models and types on a limited budget. Not quite like trading cars, but similar.

I was perusing my most recent copy of “American Handgunner” and came across the following item in Dave Anderson’s column. In talking about carrying a gun for self-defense, he claimed to be middle of the road regarding how much spare ammo you should carry on your person. These days that’s a popular subject, it seems. Dave stated that if he felt the need to carry two or three extra magazines full of cartridges when out and about, he’d just stay home! Again, this is as a private citizen, not an “on duty” police officer. Their needs and rules are very different. But I concur with Dave.