This post is a request from many curious teenage minds, but before I start, I have to offer 2 disclaimers.
1--These are my memories. This is the way I remember the events I am about to describe, as crazy as some may sound. If any of you reading have more specifics (like the fishy backyard thing from Magna), I encourage your input so that these stories may be as accurate as possible. These stories are embellished for entertainment effect, but I am trying not to add any embellishment to the actual events.
2--I do not encourage any of these activities. I recognize, even in the telling, that these represent some of the stupid things I did as a teenager, that could have landed me in legal trouble, if not the hospital (or morgue). I claim no responsibility, should any of my younger readers play stupid, and attempt any of these activities. (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!!)
I have to add a #3--Mom, Dad, sorry! I didn't think you "needed" to know about these as I was growing up, so I hope you simply enjoy them for the "entertainment". And please remember: Like the "Swiss Ice-hole" incident, I am still here to write this, and (hopefully) much the wiser for the experience.
Okay, that all said, here is the story of helping a friend blow up a truck.
One of my school friends, we'll call him "D" had an old beater truck. A chevy LUV. Some of you may even remember those. It was a piece of junk, and getting to a point where he just wanted to get rid of it. He couldn't sell it, and keeping it would have been impractical.
He decided to blow it up. I should comment, "D" was probably my most 'different' friend. Most of my group were pretty straight-laced. Our major prank of stealing a classroom (see one of my ealier posts) was really harmless, and about the most serious thing we ever did together. None of us got much into drinking, only one started smoking, and nearly all of us were active in our respective churches. We had reps of each of these following churches: Catholic, Baptist, Mormon, Jehovah's Witness, Episcopal, Methodist, and Jewish. "D", on the other hand, didn't go to church much, as far as I know. He dabbled in drugs, mostly stuff like pot, but he was still in tight with our group of friends.
Now, back to the explosion decision. "D" was a subscriber to the earlier versions of Newsletters aimed at pyromaniacs and "baby terrorists". ( the kind of kids who like to play with chemicals, and see what they can make blow up, burst into flames of different colors, create cool smoke, etc.). He had found a recipe for a concoction that would work like a time bomb. Certain easily available chemicals, injected into a pingpong ball would take about 2-3 minutes to achieve enough heat to both melt the ball and potentially create combustion.
So, the plan....Drive this beater out to the foothills around Breckenridge, or somewhere out between Comanche road and the mountains, find an empty field, and drop the ping-pong ball into the gas tank.
Well, several of us drove his truck and the "get away" cars out to a place behind some of the orange orchards, several miles outside of town. We were all just chatting and getting ready for the main event. "D" injected his chemicals into the ball, and had just dropped it into the gas tank opening, stopped short with a look of terror on his face, and said "oh sh--!!, I wasn't thinking, and I filled the gas tank on the way out here!! Run for it!!" :) :)
The fireball would have made Hollywood proud!
The drive back to town was very nerve-wracking, because we just knew the first emergency vehicle to pass us was going to know our involvement and chase us down. We managed to talk each other into driving calmly, as if nothing had happened. Good luck! The smoke plume was visible for several miles! About halfway back to town, sirens, flashing lights, pounding hearts! Whoosh! right past us!
Then came the second fire truck, followed closely by a sheriff's deputy. Whoosh! Whoosh!, still pounding hearts, and lots of anxious looks in the rearview mirrors. Somehow, we made it, and believe it or not, "D" had removed his license plates, and the fire must not have spread, because that is the last I know about that event. No phone calls, no police visits, just some great fireworks, and good heart exercise!! What a bunch of morons! But boy did we have some fun times!
ONE MORE TIME! DO NOT, DO NOT, DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!! (without parental supervision?) :)
1--These are my memories. This is the way I remember the events I am about to describe, as crazy as some may sound. If any of you reading have more specifics (like the fishy backyard thing from Magna), I encourage your input so that these stories may be as accurate as possible. These stories are embellished for entertainment effect, but I am trying not to add any embellishment to the actual events.
2--I do not encourage any of these activities. I recognize, even in the telling, that these represent some of the stupid things I did as a teenager, that could have landed me in legal trouble, if not the hospital (or morgue). I claim no responsibility, should any of my younger readers play stupid, and attempt any of these activities. (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!!)
I have to add a #3--Mom, Dad, sorry! I didn't think you "needed" to know about these as I was growing up, so I hope you simply enjoy them for the "entertainment". And please remember: Like the "Swiss Ice-hole" incident, I am still here to write this, and (hopefully) much the wiser for the experience.
Okay, that all said, here is the story of helping a friend blow up a truck.
One of my school friends, we'll call him "D" had an old beater truck. A chevy LUV. Some of you may even remember those. It was a piece of junk, and getting to a point where he just wanted to get rid of it. He couldn't sell it, and keeping it would have been impractical.
He decided to blow it up. I should comment, "D" was probably my most 'different' friend. Most of my group were pretty straight-laced. Our major prank of stealing a classroom (see one of my ealier posts) was really harmless, and about the most serious thing we ever did together. None of us got much into drinking, only one started smoking, and nearly all of us were active in our respective churches. We had reps of each of these following churches: Catholic, Baptist, Mormon, Jehovah's Witness, Episcopal, Methodist, and Jewish. "D", on the other hand, didn't go to church much, as far as I know. He dabbled in drugs, mostly stuff like pot, but he was still in tight with our group of friends.
Now, back to the explosion decision. "D" was a subscriber to the earlier versions of Newsletters aimed at pyromaniacs and "baby terrorists". ( the kind of kids who like to play with chemicals, and see what they can make blow up, burst into flames of different colors, create cool smoke, etc.). He had found a recipe for a concoction that would work like a time bomb. Certain easily available chemicals, injected into a pingpong ball would take about 2-3 minutes to achieve enough heat to both melt the ball and potentially create combustion.
So, the plan....Drive this beater out to the foothills around Breckenridge, or somewhere out between Comanche road and the mountains, find an empty field, and drop the ping-pong ball into the gas tank.
Well, several of us drove his truck and the "get away" cars out to a place behind some of the orange orchards, several miles outside of town. We were all just chatting and getting ready for the main event. "D" injected his chemicals into the ball, and had just dropped it into the gas tank opening, stopped short with a look of terror on his face, and said "oh sh--!!, I wasn't thinking, and I filled the gas tank on the way out here!! Run for it!!" :) :)
The fireball would have made Hollywood proud!
The drive back to town was very nerve-wracking, because we just knew the first emergency vehicle to pass us was going to know our involvement and chase us down. We managed to talk each other into driving calmly, as if nothing had happened. Good luck! The smoke plume was visible for several miles! About halfway back to town, sirens, flashing lights, pounding hearts! Whoosh! right past us!
Then came the second fire truck, followed closely by a sheriff's deputy. Whoosh! Whoosh!, still pounding hearts, and lots of anxious looks in the rearview mirrors. Somehow, we made it, and believe it or not, "D" had removed his license plates, and the fire must not have spread, because that is the last I know about that event. No phone calls, no police visits, just some great fireworks, and good heart exercise!! What a bunch of morons! But boy did we have some fun times!
ONE MORE TIME! DO NOT, DO NOT, DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!! (without parental supervision?) :)
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