I'm told you bolt the legs to a spare tire for a base, then hook a team of draft horses to the arm to pull it back, then yank the rope to unleash the fury that is the spring-loaded Western Cartridge Co. skeet machine.
Last time I yelled "Pull," was shooting the trap course over by Monument with Robert Stubblefield some years ago. My shotgun, a long goose gun that other guys were calling a blunderbuss and asked if I got it off the mantle of an old hunting lodge, turned out to have a bend in the barrel and helped me set the course record for not hitting a goddamn thing.
But I might get the ol' goose gun off the mantle just to try this new launcher out. I've been afraid to test it for fear of having my shin broken. It just has that look about it, like it's been dormant for years, waiting to be awoken and exact revenge. I might lengthen the rope so I can stand back farther.
