Ok, so What's the Dumbest or Funniest Thing You've Ever Done While Hunting or Fishing?

[Timestepper]

I know we've all shown our @sses, so to speak, at one time or another, so there's got to be some good stories out there. I'll even start it off (even though, admittedly, I've seen/done so much dumb stuff that I don't really know where to begin).

1. Several years ago, a buddy of mine made the mistake of going deer hunting while he had a bad head cold. To shorten a short story even further, while intensely studying some deer a couple hundred yards away, he reached for his sinus spray and grabbed a squeeze bottle of doe urine instead. The results, while absolutely hilarious from my point of view, were not at all pretty.

2. While guiding some friends from out of town on a fishing trip in 1990, I boldly stated, "Yep, I reckon I know this area better'n I know my own front yard!" then I turned around and walked off a ten foot bank.

3. Hunting with a buddy, I stepped in a hole and tripped. I recovered nicely, but then I made the mistake of turning around to warn him about the hole and walked straight into a tree limb. (Knocked off my hat and glasses and damn near pierced my ear.)

4. In 1985, while fishing Webster Reservoir in northwest Kansas, I spent an hour and 15 minutes fighting a 20-30 pound flathead on ultra-light (4lb. test) gear. Finally got him worn out and up to the bank then tripped over a rock when I reached down to grab him and ended up neck deep in water with no fish and no rod.

5. In 1991, my neighbor and I backpacked into the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming from the Reservation side. It was tough going and took us two days to cover 18 miles to a series of three absolutely beautiful mountain lakes. After setting up camp, we decided to fish a little bit before starting supper. On my first cast I hooked and finally landed a gorgeous 30 inch lake trout. Taking out my camera, I snapped a quick 3 or 4 shots, then waded out and released the fish... not realizing I had used up the last of the film earlier in the day. (Biggest freakin' fish of the whole damn trip and all I have is a frustrated memory.)

6. Figuring I was going to play a great practical joke on some buddies and scare heck out of them, I snuck up on their fishing spot after dark with a pack of fire crackers. When I got into just the right position, I lit the fire crackers and gave them a nearly perfect toss.. Problem was, I'd spent so much time sneaking, that I didn't realize my buddies had moved and the local Game Warden and his son had moved into their spot.

Anyone else?

Edited April 21, 2012 by Timestepper

[Superman]

Haven't been hunting. And was never good at fishing, never caught anything more than bait except 2 or 3 times. Most of the time I caught nothing. Went with my cousin and his grandfather one night. All of us fishing out of the same boat they were catching fish after fish and I caught nothing.

Friend in highschool went hunting one weekend and came to school the next week with his eyes swelled shut, he could barely see. He got into some poison ivy or something.

[DaveS]

That's funny stuff!

Well, I too have done so many "dumb and/or funny" things it's insane!

I'll tell a couple for now...

1.Was squirrel hunting a few years and shot a gray squirrel out of a tree top. He fell, hit the ground, did the "dieing cockroach" thing and things were good....so I thought.

While standing and talking to my friend, this squirrel started climbing out of my game vest, crawled up and perched on my shoulder. My friend started laughing, I started grabbing at this p***** off squirrel,

when it all of a sudden it jumped on my head. My friend being the clown he is, started raising his shotgun as he was stepping back, saying "hang on Dave, I'll get him"! The squirrel jumped to the

ground never to be seen again!

2. Last year, myself, my son and our dogs went rabbit hunting. We took five really nice rabbits. We got home, unloaded my truck in the driveway and got everything ready to pose for some pictures. We layed out the rabbits and my son held the dogs while I ran into the house to get the wife to come out and take pictures. Well, I knelt down next to my son, took ahold of two of the dogs, got the pose just right and as my wife was about to "snap" the pictures one of the rabbits decided he'd had enough of this game. He jumped up and hopped toward my wife....she screamed, the dogs lunged forward pulling me over on my face.The ol' lady heads for the front door screaming like she'd seen the devil himself. The rabbit hops across the yard and dogs attack it raising 10 kinds of hell! There was hair flying from every direction! We finaly got everything under control, and my wife to this day refuses to take anymore hunting pictures, because I have a habit of not making things "real dead" as she puts it.

I'll post some more stories later on...

Edited April 21, 2012 by wd-40

[Timestepper]

7. Back in the mid 90's I did a lot of bow hunting for Mule deer as well White tail. One Saturday morning I decided to do some spot and stalk up in the Saline River Valley of Kansas (about 15 miles from where I lived at the time). Little did I know I was coming down with the flu. Made a two hour stalk on a 6X6 muley and finally closed to within about 12 yards. It was an easy shot, I had the wind in my favor and the buck had no idea I was anywhere around... until I eased up over the bank I was hiding behind, came to full draw... and puked all over myself.

8. I was about waist deep in water, fishing a small cove of Wilson Reservoir in North Central Kansas when the prettiest game warden I've ever seen pulled up and got out of her truck. She asked if I was doing any good and I looked at her and replied something along the lines of "Not as good as I'd like to be doing."

About the time I realized what I'd said sounded entirely more lurid than I intended, things got even worse: Two young ladies in bikinis walked by in the parking lot just as Miss Gorgeous Game Warden asked what I was fishing for. Already about half rattled by my inadvertent double entendre, and with one eye still on the bikinis and blood rushing everywhere except my brain, I blurted out "White breast and crappie... er... uh... white bass and crotchy! Er... uh... Hell, I don't even know what I'm f*ck, uh, fishing for!" Fortunately for me, she started laughing so hard she could barely ask to see my license. I was beet red as I waded out of the water to show it to her and she was still chuckling as she checked it. Having already lost all composure as well as control of my mouth, I blurted out, "Well thank God at least one of us is having a good time - Oh crap, I didn't mean that!"

She started laughing so hard that all she could do was shake her head and hand me back my license. And I was so thoroughly embarrassed that all I could do was walk to my pickup and toss my gear in the back. As I was getting in to leave, she drove by and paused long enough to say, "Thank you so much - I really needed that!" Then she started laughing again and drove away.

I won't say that's the most embarrassed I've ever been, but it damn sure ranks way up there.

Edited April 21, 2012 by Timestepper

[-boatman-]

6. Figuring I was going to play a great practical joke on some buddies and scare heck out of them, I snuck up on their fishing spot after dark with a pack of fire crackers. When I got into just the right position, I lit the fire crackers and gave them a nearly perfect toss.. Problem was, I'd spent so much time sneaking, that I didn't realize my buddies had moved and the local Game Warden and his son had moved into their spot.

Please finish up this one. There has got to be more.

[UncleJak]

I had just got a new rod and reel and was out bass fishing. My dad had some sort of spray to scent the plastic worms. I thought if one spray was good, 30 sprays would get a fish for sure. I sprayed so much that it got all over the worm, the boat, and my hands. First cast and my rod flew out of my hand, made a nice splash, and sank to the bottom of the lake.

[Timestepper]

6. Figuring I was going to play a great practical joke on some buddies and scare heck out of them, I snuck up on their fishing spot after dark with a pack of fire crackers. When I got into just the right position, I lit the fire crackers and gave them a nearly perfect toss.. Problem was, I'd spent so much time sneaking, that I didn't realize my buddies had moved and the local Game Warden and his son had moved into their spot.

Please finish up this one. There has got to be more.

There is, but it ain't pleasant: The firecrackers landed right between them and started going off. The Warden jumped and fell backwards off his bucket while his son screamed and wet his pants. Still thinking it was my buddies, I was rolling on the ground laughing when the Warden got there and wanted to know in no uncertain terms just WTF was going on and did I have any idea what kind of effing trouble I was in? As it slowly sank into my head what I'd done, I started stammering and apologizing all over the place.

He kept chewing my butt and by the time my buddies actually walked up from where they'd been fishing, I was pretty sure I was going to jail or at least losing my hunting & fishing privileges for life. Fortunately, by then the Warden's son had stopped crying and the Warden himself had calmed down enough to remember that he'd been young and stupid once himself, so he chewed my butt for another twenty minutes and then made me promise that I'd never ever EVER do anything like that ever again. (I haven't.) Of course, maybe the worst part of it all is that, even after thirty years, my buddies still won't let me live it down.

Edited April 22, 2012 by Timestepper

[R_Bert]

I thought I didn't have any, but....alas, I do.

In August of 1992 (pre-cell phone), I was fishing Douglas Lake, and had put in at the ramp at Cowboys Seafood Resturant ($5 at the time, I think).

After a long, hot, windy, wave-runner frustrated day, I was glad to get off the water. I put the boat on the trailer, and pulled up to the top, just across the lane from the front door of the resturant. It wouldn't take long to stow my tackle bag, and cinch down the boat.

I was looking forward to cooling off, so I left the truck running with the AC on. Five minutes later, I finished securing the boat, and went to hop in to leave. Uh-OH. Truck locked !

No problem, I thought, I have spare keys in my tackle bag (which I always toss in the bed of the truck). Went to get. Not there! THIS time, I had tossed the bag in the cab, AND LOCKED THE DOORS!

Did I mention I was parked in the front door of the resturant ?? With the truck running ??

No money, no ID, no keys, no phone, nothing...but a really stupid look on my very sunburned face, and a Friday Evening crowd gathering at the bar.

I tried to get the resturant manager to call home, but instead, they called the cops. It took over an hour for a sherriff's deputy to get there, and he said "I can't help you. call a locksmith!". (%%$$%#!)

Finally, some enterprising (and very entertained) customer displayed his (criminally derived ?) knowledge, and instructed me in how to break into the truck (he supplied tools and watched).

Two & a half hours into the ordeal, I finally accessed my vehicle, and drove off in shame. Never went back to Douglas Lake.

(I still drive the truck, pushing 300K mi, but it always used oil after that day)

Edited April 22, 2012 by R_Bert

[10-Ring]

You guys have some good stories.

1. A few years ago I'm sitting in a climbing stand about 30 feet off the ground. I drop a scrubby buck and start the process to come down. I had a retrieval rope that had a little plastic clasp on it. I run the rope through my rifle sling and clip the rope onto itself. As I lower the rifle to the ground I get about 5 feet down and the clasp breaks sending my rifle on a 25 foot free fall. Busted the scope. At least I did it on the way down and not the way up.

2. As a young teenager I used to bowfish a lot. One day I was standing on the bow of my jon boat, bow in hand, while my brother was navigating us through the shallows from the stern with a trolling motor. We hit a rock or stump or something, the boat stopped I didn't. Took a head first plunge into about a foot of water and 3 feet of nasty lakebottom mud.

3. In my early 20's I took my friend Mike deer hunting for the first time. He is my age. It was Thanksgiving Day. I killed a deer the night before and we met up and he helped me quarter it out. We then went hunting and used the tarsals out of the buck I had just killed as lure. We went in the woods about 1 O'clock. I didn't expect to see much of anything until around 4 or 5, so I'm sitting in my box blind reading, sleeping, whatever, just not really paying that much attention. About 20 minutes after I sat down I hear a shot and have no doubt that Mike fired. I wait for a couple of minutes and don't hear anything from him so I call him on the radio and ask if he shot. He is breathing very heavy like he's been running and says something like "I shot a huge buck, it's down." I tell him to stay put and I'll be there in about 2 minutes, as I didn't want him trying to chase it if it wasn't dead yet. I go to where he was sitting and he isn't there (but his lawn chair is.) I walk about 20 yards and find a heavy blood trail. I yell but get no response. I call him on the radio again and he tells he that he is almost out of the woods with the deer. Once again I tell him to stay put and he does this time. He tells me several times That he has shot some ungodly buck with something that looks like a rocking chair attached to his head. I finally catch up with him. He's wearing a pair of overalls, no shirt. He's literally covered in blood from his neck to his toes, and there on the ground lies a 60 pound button buck. He was so excited, wasn't the huge buck that he claimed but I was excited that I had helped him get his first deer and glad he was so happy. I decide to go get the truck. Well I sink the truck to the frame rails while retrieving the deer. 8 hours, 4 trucks, and a tractor later we finally got the truck out. Mom wasn't too happy that I came to Thanksgiving Dinner two hours late covered in mud and blood and smelling like tarsal glands.

4. I was about 17. Learning to bow hunt. Had access to land but there was not really anywhere to put stands so here I am an inexperienced bow hunter trying to bow hunt from the ground. I get out of school one afternoon and go hunting. It was about 75 degrees and I'm sitting on the ground next to a hay bale hunting a good sized field. My back starts bothering me so I figure I can lay down and still see if anything works its way into the field. I was hitting a bleat from time to time when all of a sudden a nice doe comes running at me full speed from across the field 200 yards away. I didn't know what to do, I stayed still and kept lying down on my back. She went right on the other side of the hay bale and stopped. I tried to ease up for a shot but she bolted when she heard me draw before I tried to ease around the round bale. Lesson learned, never lay on your back while hunting.

5. About a year later I'm wandering through some woods where I hunted a lot. It was back when TN had that break between the two segments of gun season. I see a great tree to put my climbing stand in and do a little bow hunting. I wonder the whole time I'm hunting why I've never hunted out of this tree before, it's perfect. I end my hunt without seeing anything and head to the house. A couple of hours later my eyes are burning and I start to get itchy. Turns out during early bow season that tree was covered in poison ivy which I am very allergic to and that's why I never hunted out of it. That was some of the worst poison ivy I've ever had, in December none the less.

[Ramjo]

I laughed so hard at number 8.

[DaveS]

I laughed so hard at number 8.

I can't stop laughing!! I need to go fish with this guy!!!

[Guest lostpass]

For fishing it was definitely the hooking of Steven Foster.

This was in the olden days, before piercings were cool. We were fishing off a dock in Florida and we were young. Our fishing pretty much involved seining for shrimp, attaching resultant shrimp to treble hook, winging said laden treble hook into the water and waiting. Fish in the bayou come big, or they did back then, so the rods were stout and we used spinning reels. Like mitchell 301's (I think).

The plan was simple, cast the bait out and wait. Maybe we'd walk to the target and get some snacks or something. If you know how a spinning reel works you know that you keep your finger on the line and let it off when you sweet spot. My pal does the full arm cast (going for distance, not precision) and hooks Steven right in the nose. That's kind of what you get for walking recklessly around while people are casting.

So this guy has one barb all the way through his nose and a twitching shrimp next to his face. You'd think there would be a lot of blood but there wasn't.

The general thought back then was that it was better to push it through than to pull it out. I mean for fish hooks. For life it is probably better to pull it out. Anyway, it didn't need to be pushed through, it was already through.

Not being smiths we tried and tried to cut it with that part of the needle nose pliers made for cutting wire. Since the needle nose pliers we were using were somewhat degraded we got nowhere.

We went and got some bolt cutters from a friends house (Dad was a Vice Principle, gotta get into the lockers!) Snipped the hook on both ends. All that was left was wire. But we had screwed with Steven so much he was sure it would only get worse and made us leave the wire in.

First guy I ever knew with a nose piercing. I think three more people got one at school after that and this was '86

Second story is about the compound. You always hear about hunting compounds and you imagine the compound is pretty damn sweet. Around the same time as the piercing my best friend and I got invited to the hunting compound. You hear hunting compound and you think it will be a cozy cabin surrounded by woods. What you don't imagine what people can call a compound, The "compound" consisted of a some shingled plywood nail to a few trees. It would sleep about six, The toilet was a hole in the ground. We brought a tent and felt lucky.

But we couldn't actually hunt or shoot or anything. We got to mostly sit around. All day. I was not prepared for this but my bud was. He brought firecrackers, Black cats I think. We thought it fun to toss those things into the fire, well after we had blown all the locally available stuff up. So we tossed hundred or so in the fire during the day. Most went off. That night, while the hunters were talking about all the great things they saw but didn't shoot, (almost had me a two billion point buck) a few of the crackers went off.

Someone yells "there are shells in the fire" and everyone scatters. While they are hiding behind wispy pines and such we just head to the tent. We got credit for not being scared of live fire but, upon reflection, I don't image that even if they were live "shells" we would be in trouble.

[Timestepper]

Wow, good stuff!

WD - We're anxiously waiting for some more stories! In the mean time, I can certainly identify with you - In high school, I hit a 'coon with my car one Friday night and, since he wasn't torn up too badly, I tossed him on the floorboard in the back seat figuring that I'd skin him out on Saturday morning. Great plan until the son of a b*tch came back to life just as I was pulling into the driveway at home! (When Pop found out the whole story of why my car rolled over the rose bushes and smacked the squirrel feeder was because I'd bailed out of the car before it stopped whilst trying to escape a pissed off 'coon, he didn't even ground me!)

R_Bert - I feel your pain. When I was in high school, I had a little Dodge Dart and one weekend a buddy and I went up to Kanopolis Reservoir (in West Central Kansas) to do some fishing. We'd parked in the parking lot of one of the swimming areas, had the trunk open and were getting our stuff ready and I laid my car keys on top of the ice chest and promptly forgot about them while I was getting my rod rigged up.

Finally got everything ready to go and as I was closing the trunk lid, I noticed my keys still on top of the cooler. At that point,everything seemed to go into slow motion. I saw the keys, understood what they were and that they weren't in my pocket but was somehow powerless to stop the trunk lid from closing; KA-THUNK... CLICK! "Oh holy crap! I can't believe I just did that!" Since the front of the car was already locked up, after discussing it for a minute we decided to go ahead and fish and worry about it later.

Four hours later, we were more or less fishless but thirsty as hell and thought maybe we ought to see if we could figure out a way to get things opened up. I knew the back of the back seat would come out fairly easily and allow limited access to the trunk and I'd used a coat hanger to unlock the car once before. Of course, we were at the lake and there wasn't a freakin' coat hanger with 25 miles, but I was young and resourceful and finally came up with the idea of breaking off the radio antenna and bending it into a hook. Surprisingly, it worked like a charm and I was inside and had the back seat out within a couple of minutes. Problem was that while I was trying to reach through into the trunk, I accidentally kicked the gear shift into neutral and the car started rolling... toward the freakin' lake! My buddy couldn't get in to hit the brake because my legs were in the way, and he couldn't reach the brake with his hand because I'd slid the front seat all the way forward to facilitate removing the back seat, but at the last moment he had a flash of pure inspired genius and grabbed the wheel and steered the car into a huge rock!

When the car slammed to a stop, I shot out from where I'd been wedged, broke off the rear-view mirror and cut my hand on an exposed screw. But my car keys plopped off the cooler, out of the trunk to the floor board! We were so busy congratulating each other that it wasn't until we'd gotten the car back up to the parking lot and reloaded that we noticed the pin hole in the radiator from when the car had hit the rock...

Still feeling pretty proud, I once again unlocked the trunk and rummaged around until I found some Stop-Leak while my buddy took a bucket and went to the lake after some water. It didn't take long for the Stop-Leak to work and we decided to reward ourselves with a quick swim before heading home. Not being one to tempt fate any more than I already had, and since we were the only ones there, I made a point of leaving my car keys ON THE ROOF OF THE CAR.

I'm gonna' stop right there with just one little warning: Guys, don't EVER leave your keys on the roof of your vehicle when there are magpies around - you really will not like trying to explain things to your parents after you've walked four miles to the nearest payphone and called them collect.

Edited to add: I just read back through this thread and scared the hell out of myself. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea for a new thread after all?

Edited April 22, 2012 by Timestepper

[Good_Steward]

There are several, but one stands out more than the rest:

While fishing in a little backwater where I grew up, we were snagging carp and gar for sale (made quite a handsome profit from these just pulling them around in a wagon in certain neighborhoods *note that the legality of this did not occur to an 11 yr old). We were using a large treble hook and a heavy worm (bullet) sinker to snag the fish. Usually pretty proficient with this activity, I tried to set the hook on the back of a huge carp cruising through the area, and got, apparently, a glancing blow. The treble hook rig shot out of the water like a missile, and promptly dug two of the hooks completely through by bottom lip while the sinker cracked me in the face, just above the eyebrow. Had to have my brother, laughing so hard he was crying,cut the hooks out (sunk in clear past the barb) with a pair of needle nose pliers.

Edited April 22, 2012 by Good_Steward

[hipower]

I can't stop laughing!! I need to go fish with this guy!!!

Best story! I don't want to fish with him, I want to go and see the girls and this game warden that freaked him so.

[Ramjo]

Timestepper, maybe you just get in too big of a hurry lol. Most of the stuff you have talked about probably could have been avoided if you would think about what's on hand and not about the fish!

[Timestepper]

Timestepper, maybe you just get in too big of a hurry lol. Most of the stuff you have talked about probably could have been avoided if you would think about what's on hand and not about the fish!

Ramjo, you may very well be right, but not thinking about fish is almost a cardinal sin in my family. Then again, the most recent story I've told here happened back in '91 - I don't claim to be perfect now, but I'd like to think that I've learned at least a little bit over the years.

Best story! I don't want to fish with him, I want to go and see the girls and this game warden that freaked him so.

Naw, hipower, this happened in the mid-late '80's, so they'd probably be old and wrinkly by now. (But damn, they sure looked looked good back then!) (And I still get tongue tied around beautiful women.)

Edited April 22, 2012 by Timestepper

[kieefer]

Several years ago when I use to hunt often I was to drive to a wooded area and meet a friend but he didn't show. So I'm by myself and really wanting to bow hunt. It's about 3pm. I go into the woods with my tree stand a bow. Find a good spot an I get set up to climb up the tree with my stand. I get a ways up and run into some trigs so I stop and pull out my knife and cut the trigs, reach around the tree to climb up some more and I stick myself in the opposite arm with my knife. This dumb-ass didn't put the knife back in the sheath.

Needless to say that I can't do nothing on the tree with the stand on my legs so I'm bleeding like a stuck pig climbing back down. On the ground I wrap my arm with a t-shirt, I can't stop the bleeding and have nothing to fix it with. It was also the days before cell phones and no one but my friend who didn't show up knows where I'm at.

I'm near Ashland city and head that way to the hospital. Once I get there I pass out walking through the door. I wake up in the ER with five stitches in my arm and them asking me who I am. In my excitement to go hunting I left my billfold at home. I had ten dollars in my pocket but no ID.

That would have to be the stupidest thing I ever done.

[10-Ring]

Several years ago when I use to hunt often I was to drive to a wooded area and meet a friend but he didn't show. So I'm by myself and really wanting to bow hunt. It's about 3pm. I go into the woods with my tree stand a bow. Find a good spot an I get set up to climb up the tree with my stand. I get a ways up and run into some trigs so I stop and pull out my knife and cut the trigs, reach around the tree to climb up some more and I stick myself in the opposite arm with my knife. This dumb-ass didn't put the knife back in the sheath.

Needless to say that I can't do nothing on the tree with the stand on my legs so I'm bleeding like a stuck pig climbing back down. On the ground I wrap my arm with a t-shirt, I can't stop the bleeding and have nothing to fix it with. It was also the days before cell phones and no one but my friend who didn't show up knows where I'm at.

I'm near Ashland city and head that way to the hospital. Once I get there I pass out walking through the door. I wake up in the ER with five stitches in my arm and them asking me who I am. In my excitement to go hunting I left my billfold at home. I had ten dollars in my pocket but no ID.

That would have to be the stupidest thing I ever done.

6. That reminds me of a similar incident to where I learned that not all straight trees without limbs are suitable for climbing stands. I was about 19 or 20 at the time. I took a younger friend maybe 15 hunting. I had a good permanent stand and I was going to put my climbing stand in the tree right next to it so we would be about an arms length apart. I don't recall now what kind of tree it was but it had smooth bark. It was really cold that morning and it was sleeting. Once I got a good ways up the tree I realized that the tree was covered in ice on the back side, more like frozen rain really. I figured the cleats on the stand would hold it in place. I take another push up the tree and the bottom portion of the stand slips, when it does I cut my right hand on the top portion of the stand, it's dark, I'm not wearing gloves, and it's so cold I can't really feel my hands anyway. I'm oblivious to the injury. I finally get situated in the stand and the sun comes up. At this point I realize that my hand is bleeding profusely. Didn't require medical attention but it taught me a lesson the hard way.

7. This one is quite funny. For my 18th birthday my parents bought me a climbing stand, I really didn't know how to use it. Against their recommendation I had to try it out ASAP. It was dark and I went out in the back yard and attempt to scale an oak tree. Somehow I mange to get about 30 feet up without realizing that I was supposed to attach my feet to the platform, don't ask how I did this. Well the platform fell away so here I am sitting in the stand stuck. I yell, throw stuff at the house, etc, but I can't get anyone's attention. Finally I manage to shimmy down the tree. I then went inside and watched the VHS that came with the stand and figured out how to do it the right way. Probably a good thing I figured out the harness anyway.

[whiskey]

You know that old saying... "I thought you went to crap and the hogs ate you."

Well I was hunting hogs in south Florida and got the urge. You know the kind of urge that a weekend of beer drinking, potted meat and slim jims can put on you?

I slipped off into some secluded palmettos, dropped trousers, including my belt holster and got to relieving myself. I am not sure if was impeccable timing or if the smell brought them running in, but I quickly found myself surrounded by a sounder of pigs. As soon as I heard them I started working to get my Super Blackhawk out of it's holster. So if you can imagine... squatted in the woods, pants at ankles, right hand holding a scrub oak, left hand holding a .44mag revolver, me steady praying that the hogs move on cause if I have to shoot, I just know I am going to fall backwards and I really didn't want to fall backwards... One little boar hog finally popped up about 20 yards in front of me, looked at me cross-eyed and split the scene.

[DaveS]

You know that old saying... "I thought you went to crap and the hogs ate you."

Well I was hunting hogs in south Florida and got the urge. You know the kind of urge that a weekend of beer drinking, potted meat and slim jims can put on you?

I slipped off into some secluded palmettos, dropped trousers, including my belt holster and got to relieving myself. I am not sure if was impeccable timing or if the smell brought them running in, but I quickly found myself surrounded by a sounder of pigs. As soon as I heard them I started working to get my Super Blackhawk out of it's holster. So if you can imagine... squatted in the woods, pants at ankles, right hand holding a scrub oak, left hand holding a .44mag revolver, me steady praying that the hogs move on cause if I have to shoot, I just know I am going to fall backwards and I really didn't want to fall backwards... One little boar hog finally popped up about 20 yards in front of me, looked at me cross-eyed and split the scene.

I'm still waiting to see if you're going tell the story of how a certain Game Warden "held it up for you" whilst you shot a turkey a couple years back. He ask's me every day if you've came clean, and told that story yet.

Well young Jedi????

If you get a chance, give me a call this evening.

[Timestepper]

Without elaborating, I will also add that someday it'd be nice to be able to look at a particular body of water and know exactly how deep it is, instead of finding out the hard way that it's either too deep for wading or too shallow for boating...

[roverboy]

This is the only thing I've done that I can think of right now. I got up at dark thirty one morning about 8 years ago to go turkey huntin' and got everything together and loaded it in the truck. I drove to my spot and put out my decoys so that maybe when the birds flew down I'd be ready. I slipped back in the edge of the woods in a cane thicket and realized I didn't have my shotgun. I sat there for a little while wishing I could kick my own butt and then went home and went to bed.

[gjohnsoniv]

The only story I can think of is the first time I *attempted* bow fishing. Well some friends of mine and I decided to get together one weekend at one friends house/small farm. There is next to one of the fields where we would fish on occasion that had become over run with catfish, so we decided to thin them out a little. Well the other friend had gotten a bow fishing kit several weeks before and wanted to try it. So we get out to the pond and pull the bow, arrows, and line out of the bag, but somehow my friend forgot the bowstring. Not to be deterred my other friend says "I'll go get my bow." He goes back to the house, grabs his bow, and comes running back with it. We set the reel up on it and wait for a catfish to show up. Up comes one and my friend lets loose, nails it right behind the head, we could see the arrow sticking out of this fish. He leans over to grab the fish and... it swims off to the middle of the pond. Didn't die and was not going to give up that arrow, problem being the string for the arrow broke. We thought that was unfortunate but we wanted a fish so we put another arrow on the line and it was my turn. Up came another catfish. I lined up my shot and let the arrow fly. Missed the fish and lost the arrow in a stream of bubbles going across the pond. By this time we decided to give up and go to Toot's to eat, but just then up came the fish with the arrow in it. Being young and impulsive, friend one grabs his 10/22, lines up the fish in his sights and shot it in the head and watched as it sank for good beneath the pond.

[Timestepper]

This is the only thing I've done that I can think of right now. I got up at dark thirty one morning about 8 years ago to go turkey huntin' and got everything together and loaded it in the truck. I drove to my spot and put out my decoys so that maybe when the birds flew down I'd be ready. I slipped back in the edge of the woods in a cane thicket and realized I didn't have my shotgun. I sat there for a little while wishing I could kick my own butt and then went home and went to bed.

Wanted desperately to laugh at this, but then I remembered last summer when my lovely wife dropped me off in the canoe to do a 15 mile float on the Clinch and I realized that I'd forgotten the &(^$%##&*!!! canoe paddles. (Ended up cutting a 12' sapling and using it to "pole" down the river - not as hard as it sounds.)