...seeing that CO2 canister disappear over the trees toward the old high school, followed by a big white jet trail from the burnt phosphorous strikeanywhere matches. Never did find where it landed. Course we never looked either.

Shouldn't this be in Pecos' thread in Humor?

Remember that miner's 'carbide' lantern stuff? Mix a little water with some of it in a closed container and hold a match to the touchhole, and kaboom. Don't know what kind of gas the reaction produced, but, it was POTENT!!

Well, one time my older (he should have known better) brother and I decided to dump a whole can (probably half a pound) of it into a 5 gallon Gulflube Single G (I can still see it plain as day, 40 years later) oil can, along with about a quart of water. That should really produce some fireworks, huh, we thought. It's important to understand the geometry of one of those oil cans to get the full effect of what happened. The top of the can has two openings, one is big, like to stick a hose nozzle or something in, and the other one has a tapered spout, with a little screw on/off cap, so you can control the pour (it also sits at an angle to the top of the can, and is shaped, as it turns out, like a jet engine nozzle). We put the components in through the big hole, put that cap back on, and I remember a match being held (honest, Dad, I still don't remember if it was Stan or me that actually held the match ) to the small, ANGLED spout. Have you ever seen a Roman candle spinning around with flames/sparks shooting out, and wondered what would happen if one of those things fell on the ground and took off cross country?
Funny how certain memories NEVER fade. I remember it was behind me for a while, then it must have jumped over me once or twice, because I can distinctly remember looking back at it closing the gap to me on at least TWO different occasions (once was in the brier patch, and the other was shortly before I discovered that ditch with the skunk in it). I remember many loud noises, flames, and sirens, but, mostly that look on my Dad's face, and especially the vein throbbing in his forehead as he tried desperately to make words come out.

The beating for that one went on well into the night.

Ahhh, fond memories of youth.

R-WEST

R-WEST

That was acetylene it produced and as you know now it is a very potent and dangerous gas, very unstable under certain conditions.
You were very lucky.
Bill

Calcium Carbide and water make acetylene gas, which, by the way, detonates or self ignites when it reaches 14 psi. Good thing you did not decide to screw the caps on the can. Don't ask how I learned this

It's a wonder we survived to grow up isn't it?

Regards,
hm

Yea that's about as good as flushing a big chunk of metallic sodium down the toilet in college. It good just far enough down the tube to blow the whole thing off the wall and the pipes leaving a lot of water and shattered ceramic all over the place. Worst plumbimg failure our dorm ever saw...Maybe that's why it took me 20 more years before i completed my bachelors degree.

No names - no pack drill.

But my elder brother and I have a younger brother - actually we both still have a younger brother. He bears a charmed life.

One of his elder brothers missed him with a 0.303 British at a range of about 3' while the other elder brother missed him with a 0.22 Long Rifle at 5'.

50 years later and he still won't come hunting with us!

Come to think of it - he inherited that 0.303 and the 0.22 from Dad.

The Old Man's sense of humour?

cheers edi

When I was a young sprout, back in the "Dark Ages" I made several "muzzle loading" pistols from a piece of brass pipe, some crudely shaped wood, wire and tape. Pipe was folded over tightly at one end, with a touch hole filed near the fold. Powder charge was a firecrack with the fuse pulled through the hole and lit with a cigaret I stole from my dad. The gun was fairly lethal as with a load of BB's kyped from my supply used in my Daisy Red Ryder, held in place with a spitwad. I shot a couple of the tame ducks in Golden Gate Park. (Sorry you anti gun rectal orifaces in Califirnia, statute of limitations ran out over thirty years ago) me and my buddies cleaned and cooked them over a fire we lit out at the beach. Using a properly fitting ball bearing held in place with spitwads again, you might hit the broad side of a barn if, and that's a mighty big if, you were inside it.
I can think of a few other stunts I pulled as a kid, but I think I'll stand on the Fifth Amendment on those.
Sometimes. I think it was some kind of miracle that I survived to adulthood. Like they say, I may be growing older, but I refuse to grow up."
Paul B.

That used to be my hobby, making zip guns out of various tubular shaped objects. Most of them worked pretty well right up to that last shot that turned them into a grenade.

One project of mine many years ago was a black powder pistol. This was well before the revival in interest for black powder guns, and little information was available on loads and shooting. My first shot out of the gun was the complete shot load out of a 3" 12 ga round, over some wadded up paper, over the amount of BP I could scoop with the empty 12 shell, with a paper wad on top. I shot a 55 gal barrel at about 20 yards, taking out a plate sized hole on both sides. My gun hand was past top dead center, the pistol had spun on the trigger guard on my trigger finger at least twice, right down to the bone in most places. I don't have a visible scar today, from that. It took me about a year to even want to shoot that thing again. It was actually quite pleasant, loaded properly.