A fair share of my readers out there has heard me talk about how my Great Grandfather, J.M. Kirkpatrick and his brother Edward, were early day founding fathers of the infamous Dodge City, Kansas. J.M. was County attorney, Magistrate and held a plethora of other titled jobs as well. Edward had a huge furniture store and mortuary. And don't ask me why in the old West, furniture dealers also masqueraded as the local mortician. 

Maybe it was that they had a ready supply of wood to make coffins and were skilled in cabinetry. That is a guess. All I really do know is that it was common back in the day. They were living in Dodge City during the time when all the local outlaws and in-laws like Wyatt Earp and Bat Masterson were abiding there, too. My ancestors passed on to us tales of cattle drives and gunfights, including one right there on Front Street. 

As far as I can recall from my grandfather’s retelling of the stories to me, no one was hurt in the last gunfight in Dodge City. The two drunkards, though, did sling a lot of lead up and down the strip before they were stopped by local citizens before someone got hurt. 

If you have watched any old Western movies, then you are familiar with those early day pistoleros throwing lead around helter skelter. Just this past weekend, Ol’ Dutch had an experience with another kind of “lead slinging” and it almost cost me an eye and a nose. There I was just a- minding-my-own business. Well, not really. I was in my son's boat, on a Texas lake when a chunk of lead big enough to kill Goliath came slashing past my head. I instinctively ducked albeit probably too late had the weight been closer and then turned to look to identify the attacker. 

It was really no surprise to see Grand #2 reeling in the sharp lead lure and having the time of her life, impervious to the fact she almost gave Ol’ Grandpa Dutch a new piercing. 

Now to those of you that say a 10-year-old child cannot be that dangerous, let me tell you what. She can sling that 1-ounce-lead-weighted lure and hook as far as Bubs and me. So, when she winds that up you had best be looking out for your own safety. It only took me a couple close calls – well, not that close but it could have been – to find myself a spot in the boat where she could not reach me with that 7-foot rod and the treble hook of death. 

That little munchkin stood beside her dad and me for two long days, matching us cast for cast. We caught so many fish, and my arms got so tired that Ol’ Dutch just had to stop. And no, we did not keep them all as that would be ridiculous, but we have enough for a huge fish fry at the least. 

In all honesty both Bubs and I were too tired to fish the second day, but that little fisherwoman rounded us up and got us to the lake anyway. So, here's to slinging lead and happy times. This ain't Dodge City but watch out for that slinging lead just the same. And watch out for that back cast as it's a doozie. 

Kevin Kirkpatrick spends his days fishing, hunting, ATVing, hiking or making people laugh. His email is Kevin@TroutRepublic.com. Additional news can be found at www.troutrepublic.com.