What I Brought Home From Friendship

Preparing for Friendship starts long before I actually pull out of the driveway.

In the weeks leading up to the trip, I clean the camper, refresh supplies, make lists and slowly get everything ready. There is always a lot of anticipation wrapped up in those preparations.

And then, finally, the day comes.

I actually get to pull out of the driveway.

Friendship is about a 12-hour drive from home, and I usually make the trip over two days. I leave a little later on that first day and drive six hours or so — really, however long I am comfortable behind the wheel pulling the camper. Somewhere along the route, I stop for the night, get some sleep in the camper and head out again the next morning.

The drive itself has become part of the trip for me. There are familiar places along the way and certain stops I look forward to making. This year, a good friend strongly encouraged me to stop at Buc-ee’s near Dayton, Ohio. The stop did not disappoint. It was my first visit, and after hearing so much about it, I finally got to see what all the fuss was about. It made for a fun break before I continued the last couple of hours of the trip.

I arrived Saturday evening and headed toward my campsite. True to Friendship form, while I was backing my camper into my spot, someone I didn’t know stepped over and offered to spot for me.

I still don’t know who he was.

But that is Friendship.

Someone is always willing to lend a hand.

Sunday was for getting settled in. I finished setting up camp, walked Dealer’s Row, picked up a few supplies and started saying hello to old friends. I stopped at registration to pick up my tag and match program, then wandered over to the clubhouse and left the ladies my list of aggregates for the week. They are always busy, so I like to leave them the list and let them pull my targets together when they get a chance.

By evening, I was settling into camp life. I made myself a burger, checked my range bag and started getting ready for the week ahead. Looking over the match program, I saw that the NMLRA membership meeting was that evening, so I headed over.

Most meetings have their routine business, but one part of the discussion really caught my attention — the future of the NMLRA.

People spoke from different perspectives about where the organization is today, what may need to change and what it will take to keep it moving forward. Each person spoke with genuine passion for the organization, even though their perspectives were different.

I listened.

And I kept thinking about it afterward.

The NMLRA is an organization I have known for as long as I can remember. I have been a member since childhood. I may not be a Life Member, but I have been a member for a lifetime. I became a Field Representative in 2024 because I already wanted to do more. I care about this organization. I don’t want to simply see the NMLRA survive. I want to see it thrive.

Once the week really got underway, Friendship settled into the rhythm I remember so well.

There was shooting, of course, but there was also everything that happens around it.

Tuesday afternoon I had my turn at the main gate. As Field Representatives, we help greet people as they come onto the grounds, and I enjoyed seeing new faces come through. If someone is not yet a member, it gives us a chance to tell them a little about the NMLRA and maybe help make that first connection.

Later in the week I spent some time in the scoring room too. Those hours are a good reminder of how many volunteers it takes behind the scenes to make Nationals happen.

But some of the best parts of the week happened when there was no official job to do at all.

One evening I had dinner at a friend’s camper. We reminisced about old times, and I found myself surrounded by people with years of muzzleloading knowledge. So I asked questions. And I listened. Those kinds of conversations are hard to put a value on.

Another day, I went for a walk with a friend I have known for years through muzzleloading. She is one of those people who is simply easy to be around — kind, genuine and the kind of friend you are always glad to see. We caught up on each other’s lives and wandered over toward the Primitive Range, where she introduced me to the ice cream truck. THE best ice cream - Raspbery, chocolate fudge in a chocolate waffle cone. Try it next time you’re at Friendship.

And somewhere in there, of course, I made my trip through the flea market. I don’t think a Friendship trip really counts without one.

Through all of this, that conversation from the membership meeting kept lingering in the back of my mind. I found myself thinking about the people who built the organization, the people who keep it going today and what it will take to carry it forward.

Then came a moment I never expected when I pulled out of my driveway for Friendship. I attended the NMLRA Board meeting to introduce myself as a potential candidate for the Board of Directors.

I stood before the board members and guests and talked a little about my history in muzzleloading and my professional background.

Partway through, a man interrupted me.

“Where are you from?”

I answered.

Then he asked, “Who was your father?”

His name was Errol.”

He came forward, shook my hand and thanked me.

Then he told the room that my dad had served as an NMLRA Field Representative for more than 50 years. I could feel the emotion wash over me. I held back the tears and thanked him. It meant more than I can explain to know that Dad is still remembered for his love of the NMLRA and the years he gave to it.

That moment connected a lot of things for me.

I had spent the week thinking about the future of an organization that has been part of my life for as long as I can remember, and suddenly I was reminded, in a very personal way, of the people who came before me. My dad gave decades of his life to the NMLRA. I became a Field Representative because I wanted to contribute in my own way. Now I find myself wondering what else I can do. Not because I think the past should remain exactly as it was. But because some things are worth carrying forward.

My last evening at Friendship was wonderfully simple.

Supper at a friend’s campsite. Birthday cake. A hand of cards.

Relaxing.

The next morning, I packed the camper, said my goodbyes and started the long drive home.

I brought home a lot of memories, but more than that, I brought home a renewed sense of why Friendship matters to me.

It is old friends and new faces.

It is people willing to lend a hand and people willing to share what they know.

It is a stranger stepping forward to help me back my camper into its spot.

It is an organization that has been part of my life since childhood.

It is a place where my dad is still remembered.

And it is a reminder that traditions like this continue because people choose to carry them forward.

I want to be one of those people.

Shoot. Learn. Preserve. Pass it on.

Bye for now.