Trad Gang

Seeing how the "coolest thing you've seen bowhunting" got so many responses and cool stories.  Let's hear the funniest thing that happened to you.

This takes the cake:  (it wasn't funny when it was happening though)I was 16 or so.  Bowhunting early one frosty Oct. morning in Western NY (where I'm from)  
 About 730 I get the "rumble guts" and OMG!!!! I HAVE TO GO...NOW!!!  I was contemplating going off the stand...I started sweating and getting light headed.  That's how bad it was.  I grab my little roll of TP out of my back.  Leave my bow, pack and everything in the tree and down I go.  I didn't hit the last 6 steps going down.  I hit the ground and tight cheeking it do the "China Man" walk to the front of the property.  I didn't want to crap in the vicinity of my stand.  (How's that for dedication?)  I make it to the front of the property along the hedge row by the railroad tracks and start ripping my coveralls down...Then I realize with all the clothes I have on, I can't get my hind end out past my clothes!  I'm going to crap in the middle of my clothes...I'm desperate now.  I couldn't take anything off because of my boots...I'm getting ready to blow a gasket.  I look around and see an apple tree with a low horizontal branch and a split trunk.  I waddle over to it.  grab the branch and swing my feet into the crotch and here it comes.  Here I am hanging from this tree and I hear a bell..?  Like a sleigh bell jingling..Out of the hedge row comes an English Pointer with a young boy and his Grandfather.  I guess they were pheasant hunting..The young boy see's me in my condition and says to his Grandfather, "Look Papa, there's a guy in camoflage hanging from a tree going poop!"  The Old boy said something to the effect of "When Nature calls, nature calls.  That's the dangest thing I've ever seen in my life?"  I started to explain myself.....Anyhow.  I was done for the day after that.  Went back grabbed my bow and stuff and went home.  Wasn't funny when it was going on.  I think back on it now and it still tickles me.  My Dad thought it was hilarious.

I was thinking of the time I went hunting 2 hours from home with out my arrows, but chris40 you got me beat. I have done the same thing but never got caught...lol!!!!

similiar thing happened to my buddy, who had coveralls and a hoody. When he went, he cleared the coveralls but you guessed it, he didn't clear the hoody. didn't realise it until he started to put on his hood. He wasn't laughing then bit is howling now when he tells that story.

this is not hilarious but it gave me a chuckle.
just a few weeks ago i was sitting in my tree stand and under neath the ridge i hunt on is a thicket that i cant see, even though it is only 30 yards away. i heard a deer traveling from my left to right. while my eyes were glued on this high spot where i sometimes see the deer pass through. i stuck my hand in my pocket to retreive my grunt tube. with out looking i put it to my lips and blew, nothing ,so still not looking i flipped it around with the same results so now i finally look down to see i was trying to call in a deer with my flashlight....

Rb

I had to go poop in the field and went to my buddy's stand only 75yrds away and left him a present.didn't have tp had to use my sock.Note to all my buddy's don't hang a stand so close to mine.Especially if I asked you nicely not to!

When I first started deer hunting. I bought a headnet and didn't realize it had no eyes. I was getting ready to cross the corner of a small field and just as I hit the edge of a treeline I see a nice buck and 2 does about 150 yards out in the field. I can only assume the deer thought I was another buck because he bristled up and came on a trot towards me.
I backed up and knelt down behind some tall grass and threw the headnet on. It had no eyeholes so I tried to look through the netting and shoot him. I was shaking so bad I shot over his back the 1st shot and under him the 2nd. He finally bolted as I nocked the third arrow.  :)

boy you set the bar really high on this one chris

I got some of that military poly? underwear and had to try it out.It was early oct. in Va and I went to my stand w/ this stuff on under my camo.Well by the time I climbed into  to the stand,I was sweating bullets.I started stripping clothes off and when I got down to my skivies,I could hear the deer coming.I grabbed my bow and shot a doe in my skivies w/ my pants around my ankles.

Year before last, I made a midday hunt down in the swamp on public land.  I put out one of those Renzo decoys, and got into the tree about 11:00.  I was up about 20 ft.  The wind was really blowing, and I couldn't hear a thing.  After about 30 minutes, I looked back over my shoulder and caught some movement about 30 yards out.  Whatever it was had just gone in behind a tree.  In just a minute, it popped back out.  I couldn't believe it.  There was a guy with a compound at full draw, bearing down on my decoy!  He held, and held, and held, waiting for the deer to move.  I guess his arms got tired, because he eased back in behind the tree and let the bow down.  In just a minute, he peeked back out from behind the tree to see if the deer had moved.  Of course, it hadn't.   :biglaugh:

Back when I was in high school,my buddies and I had been whatching a huge 12 pointer all summer long. When the bow season started we hit the woods hard,hunting every weekend,and every day after school. We all had our bows in the trucks every day when we went to school. "Weapons" were allowed in school way back then..... (providing you didn't kill anyone.Then you would have been arrested for MURDER,not expelled for "weapons posession". ahhh the days of a simpler sociaty.....) Anyway, One day after school,we race over to the farm where this huge buck called home,park,grab our bows and head for our stands. I chose a home made wooden ladder stand on the edge of a power line right of way. On my way walking up along the edge of the swamp the power lines cut through(really hot footin' along,we're wasting daylight) I see something..... a deer..... NO!!!!! It's that big 12 pointer!!!!! He's laying under a cedar tree,looking straight at me!!!!!(honestly,if I hadn't have seen him I'm sure he would have let me just walk right on by) I was carrying an old 50# Bear Alaskan with a tape on 4 arrow Bear bow quiver filled with 4 cedar arrows tipped with old green Bear Razorheads. I stopped and nocked an arrow,he just looked at me. I drew back and let one fly.....right over his back!!!!! and he just looked at me..... I shot again,over his back..... and he layed right there. Again I shot!!!!! right over his back..... and he never even flinched..... I nocked my last arrow and with trembling fingers I hooked the string..... drew back to the corner of my mouth,closed my eye and sighted down the arrow like a gun barrel..... The string slipped from my fingers as smooth as wet ice..... I watched the arrow cross the mere few yards to the huge buck,and sail right over his back!!!!! and he still layed right there..... looking at me.

GET OUTA HERE!!!!!!!!!! I Screamed!!!!! and with one quick bound,he was gone.....

I had to scare him away to go find my arrows.....

When I close my eyes, I can still see him. Laying there..... Looking at me.

Many years ago I was still hunting very slowly through some woods that had a very big buck that I had seen a few times. It was cold weather. I was wearing camo on the top of my body and gray wool trousers. I was moving very slowly with long pauses. Along comes a squirrel and he climbs up my gray wool pants leg thinking I am a tree trunk. I decided to shoo him away about the time he got halfway up my thigh. That was one very surprised squirrel.

Chris40, I could picture the hole thing and I laughed till my gut's hurt! Thank's man that was great!! Jason

Thanks for sharing the stories.

Landshark I too would have been curious how that would have turned out.

Funniest thing that happened to me was a few years ago took a day off work in late Oct to go hunting and had everything in the truck ready to go. Put on my sandals to wear for the drive down. Got to the farm and got dressed and went to put on my boots.....and NO boots. There was no way I wasn't going to I hunted in my sandals that day. Cold and rainy if I remember.....

I think I've told this story on here before:

Pre-dawn I heard movement below me, thought it was a couple of deer. I listened to the footsteps and thought soon the deer would be directly beneath me. Turned out it was a couple of coons. They milled about for the longest time and then decided to climb a huge cottonwood tree not very far away. After a few hours it was time to go home. I was hunting with my dad and he came walking along to meet up with me. I told him that I wanted to see if I could get a shot at a coon before we went home. We walked over to the tree and there they were in plain sight quite a ways up in the tree. So, I took carefull aim, centered on the coon and let fly. Stuck that arrow right in the tree. Arrow number two did the same thing. The coon still was there. I felt kind of constricted with the one-piece coverall I was wearing, shooting at such an upward angle and all. Dropped the coveralls down to me knees to free myself up and let 'er fly again. Here are a few things to think about:

1. If you are shooting at something up in a tree, it more than likely will come down if you hit it.

2. If you hit it, and it is coming down at a rapid pace, it will more than likely be really, really mad before he hits the ground.

3. Once he hits the ground, it is too late to try and figure out how to run away with a set of coveralls around your ankles as he is running directly at you snarling. Do not worry about running very far, it is impossible to do so in this circumstance.

4. If such situation ever occurs to you, be prepared to have it told to everyone at each and every family gathering you will ever attend for the rest of your life.

When I was 8 or 9, my little brother and I decided to thin out the rat herd at our dad's kennel.  He raised and trained Labs, and, coincidentally, raised and trained a bunch of huge rats.  They were really bold and, if you dropped a piece of dog food, they run out to get it right at your feet.  It was pretty unnerving for a little guy.  Some of those rats were a foot long.

Next to the kennel was my mom's worm raising experiment.  The beds were 4'x8' and made of 12x12s with plywood bottoms.  The rats had made their homes underneath.

My brother and I would spend hours sitting on the block wall with our little hickory bows my dad had made for us.  We'd toss out some bait, wait for a rat to run out, and take a shot.  We knocked a couple over and pinched a tail off, but had yet to make a kill.

Towards the end of that summer, some old man came along and bought all of the worms, dirt and all, but he left the boxes.  My brother and I figured this was our big chance.  We'd sneak up to one of the boxes, I'd heave it up on it's side and little bro would cut loose on anything that moved.  I guess we figured that although we couldn't hit one from 6 feet, 3 feet should be a cinch.

I should mention that we were both wearing overalls and cowboy boots, no shirts, no socks, and our tighty whiteys.

After carefully planning our attack, we tiptoed over to our first target area.  Casey readied his bow as I slipped my fingers under the edge of the bin.  One, two, three... I heaved the bin up on its side.

We both stood in shock for a second.  There were literally 20 or 30 rats under this one box.  They all started hopping and jumping and squeaking and generally freaking us out.  Casey forgot the general idea of archery and started into a full on melee with bow.  He whipped and slashed and whopped with great fury. I commenced to stomping and stamping with some degree of vehemence myself.

After a few seconds, we realized those rats were going on the offensive.  A couple had grabbed ahold of my ankles and wouldn't let go.  An especially ferocious one started climbing up Casey's pants leg.  He screamed and stripped his overalls off faster than you could say boo.

I'm not sure what happened in the next few seconds, but the next thing I knew, we were both in the yard about 30 yards from the scene of the incident.  We were both clad only in our skivvies and were both shaking like leaves.  I had a big cut on the back of my head and Casey had a bunch of scratches on his leg.

Apparently I had reached down to knock a rat off my leg and as I bent over, the worm bin toppled over on my head, knocking me out.  Casey was able to get the rats off me and get me up.  I guess I stripped off my clothes in the furor.

Mom was pretty upset with the whole thing and wanted to take us to the doctor to have us checked out, but we escaped to the woods until dad got home.  He decided we were fine and said he take care of those rats.

That next Saturday was quite an event, but that's another long story.

QuoteOriginally posted by looper:
That next Saturday was quite an event, but that's another long story.

Hey, it's not like I've got anything better to do, please continue!   :readit:

One time i got to the parking area,got my day pack and my tree climber,and headed for the tree to hunt from.Got to the tree before day light and set up my tree climber and realized i forgot something.I forgot my bow and arrows.At the time i was pretty mad at myself.I think i called myself every name in the book back then.Had to walk back to my jeep to get my bow and arrows,and by the time i got back the the tree,it was daylight.I can laugh about now and think what a Knukkle head.

Hunting in ND this year, my buddies dropped me off before daylight to hunt from a strip of trees bordered by corn fields. I checked my stuff- arrows, pack, gloves and hat, etc. before they left, told them to take off, and started the walk in before realizing that my bow was still in the back of the truck. It was a half-mile walk to where they parked. I waited at the road side, thinking they would bring it back to me, but in the dark they didn't notice my bow when they got theirs out. Of course, in that wide-open country, they could see me walking the road when daylight came, so I couldn't make up an excuse. As the elder of the bunch, I'm sure I'll be reminded of that every time we hunt together from now on!

LOL!

I was hunting on the Forks in the river WMA a few years back when we lived there. I kept watching a howk circle around me in the air. Finally he landed in a tree about 50 yards away and stared dead at me. I turn my head for a moment and when I turned back there was a hawk flyin right at me at only 5 yards away. I quickly covered my face and let out a girlish shreek as it tried to carry off my bow! I was using beaver fur bow silencers and i guess it mistook it for a small rodent.

This did not happen to me, but to a good friend.
He was in his treestand watching a squirrel above him.
Rule #1 keep you mouth closed while looking up at a squirrel.
The squirrel decided to relieve his bladder, and it went right into my buddies mouth!!!

chris <><

A couple years ago I was out in near blizzard conditions, heavy snow and high winds.  And cold.  I was sitting under a small hemlock tree, toasty warm wearing my Ron LaClair wool longhunters shirt and hood during the late bow season.  Any way, I keep hearing or feeling a clicking noise. I was resting my head against the trunk of the tree.  I thought maybe it was the wind hitting the branches together or something.  I finally look up, and there I was staring at a big ol' porcupine about 1 foot from my head!  It must have been as startled as me, because I launched out of my seat and he turned inside out and sped back up the tree.  I figured I would sit back down under the hemlock, but the porcupine crawled out on a branch no thicker than my thumb, directly above me.  He sat there hugging that limb as the wind rocked him back and forth about 3 feet side to side.  About 6 feet above me.  Since I didn't want the porcupine to fall on me, I relented and moved.  He sat there for the 2 additional hours that I hunted.  It was pretty funny at the time.

Went on a guided hog hunt, yeah, yeah I know, but I was new to it and didn't know the area. Anyway, I spent the morning on stand watching a wallow area with no luck, and decided to stalk in the afternoon. I had received the standard "you have to be careful with these critters" speach in the begining, along with "your going to hunt them with that!" puzzled look and all. We worked our way into an area that looked promicing and there they were. So, forward I pressed, with my "guide " right behind me. "Be careful, don't ya think we're close enough", "how close you need to be to use that thing" I kept hearing from behind me. I didn't realise it at the time, but the voice was getting a little more faint with each plea for action! As the shot presented itself, I anchored and released with a nice quartering shot on a medium sized red hog. It ran off squealing....well like a pig and I turned around to high five my "guide" and realized why his voice was becoming faint. He had managed to shinney up an eight inch gum tree to a height of around 15'. This guy was about 5' 4" and at least 280, and the tree was beginnig to bow over with his weight. I sat down and laughed so hard I couldn't pay attention to the direction the hogs ran! I was either very stupid, or he was a real frady cat.

Lol @ Chris40

  :biglaugh:  

That's some good stuff!

Another Poop story...sorry dad but i'm going to tell it!

Back about 25 years ago a few of my buddies and i went out drinking and chasing the other whitetail.  Got back from drinking beer all night and caught a few hours of sleep and decided to hit the stand.  Alls well unitl about 30 minutes to dusk...my stomach starts grawling and grumbling..apparently the 4 chilli dogs i ate at the circle K were not quite agreeing with my stomach.  So i decide to climb down the stand and get rid of the chilli dogs...I started to climb down the first step of the ladder and i broke out with a horrible case of the cold sweats with poop gramps coming in waves every 3 to 4 seconds.  I decide I can't make it down without pooping on myself so i climb back in the stand and try for a few minutes to talk my ass out of wanting to take a poop.  Well after a few more minutes of gramp waves i decide my best option is to pull my pants down and crap out the stand.  Well 4 chilli dogs and a couple of pitchers of beer...will pretty much coat the right side of a ladder stand!  I cut part of my shirt tail off for toilet paper and finished what was left of my hunt.  I get back to the camp and my dad asks what i saw...i tell him nothing (i wonder why i didn't see anything LOL).  He starts in on how good that stand is and that there should be big bucks running all around it.  Well fast forward to the next mornings hunt...my dad says "hey i'm going to the hunt the stand you did last night and kill a big old buck!"  I tried my best to talk him out of it...all along not fessing up to the poop fest i had on the ladder..but he will have none of it...he's hunting that stand.

So of we go in the dark...we stop at my stand and wish him luck as he leaves in the dark to go to the stand i crapped all over the afternoon before.  I sat in my stand thinking about all the trouble i was going to be in when we got back from the morning hunt....it was the longest 4 hours ive spent on the stand in my life.

Well finally i see my dad at about 10:00 AM walking up the logging road to my stand...I'm in  a full pantic at this point knowing the ****s getting ready to hit the fan (no pun intended).  As he approaches my stand i can see the disgust on his face...i'm thinking to myself i'm dead!  Hateing the dreadful silience i ask inocently "how was your hunt?"  And he starts mumbling about he's got **** all over himself from head to toe...i'm think here it comes.  Than i hear the words come out of his mouth.."A dang coon must have visited the stand after you hunted and crapped all over the ladder...and i didn't see it when i climbed the ladder until it was too late...I have coon crap all over me...and it stinks something awful!"  

My prayers were answered!! All i could say wa "sorry to hear you had such a bad hunt" we walked back to the camp in silience.

Well fast forward about 15 years...and one afternoon out of guilt..i fessed up to crapping all over the ladder the night before he hunted the stand....he just looked at me and shook his head saying..."if you tell anyone I'm going to put my boot so far up your ass you'll never **** again!!"

Sorry dad!  Just had to tell someone!!

Tatersald.

While we're on the subject... my ex was/is an avid hunter. Many years ago she had to go, and went into the bushes. She was wearing one of those hunting coats with the game pocket inside, and didn't notice that it was hanging loose- that is, until she finished. She wouldn't let me tell that story while we were still married.

I know a bud of mine that happened to in a climber. Needless to say he didn't make it down the tree.  He painted himself pretty good though! Me I would call it bizarr. I had some old nature boy shuck his pants down and promenade!!

I'm glad you guys appreciated that story...It was a tramatic experience for me.  One thing I learned was to NEVER let that happen to me again!  If I'm going hunting at 5am, I get up at 3.  My wife even asked me why I get up so early?  "does it take you that long to prepare?"  YES it does.  I'll drink coffee and dip skoal until it does happen.  (Something about Skoal and coffee and my stomach)
 Here's a pee story that cost me a buck of a life time (provided I hit him)  Last season.  In my stand, it's about 7 am, just getting light.  I had to pee SO BAD, my back teeth were "drawing sea pay".  It's prime shooting time..so I hold it and hold it and hold it some more.Finally, I can't hold it.  In a panic I rip my pee bottle out of my pack, manage to get junior out and pee so hard, I almost blew the bottle out of hand.  (for real)  My knees were buckling..It was damp out and I never heard this buck coming.  I just happen to look down and he's right under my stand looking up at me.  I'm not even close to being done and am quite concerned about over filling my 16oz gator aid bottle.  Anyhow, he lets out a nice big snort and trots off..I swear to God, if I didn't have bad luck I wouldn't have luck at all ;-)

I was 16 years old and my dad, brother-in-law and a couple other guys were bowhunting for hogs on a preserve near Crossville, TN - I know, I know.. I was only 16.  Anyway, they'd run the hogs with dogs and the dogs would catch up to the hogs and bite and chew on the hogs nut sack. They evidently had a time with this one hog of about 150#s. Like you and I would be, this hog was mad! The dogs had it bayed up at the bottom of an open oak flat, but as soon as the hog saw my dad and I coming down the hill he took off after my dad. I was off to the left a little ways. Well my dad was not a small or slender fellow and when that hog started toward him he only thought of getting away and found this little smooth bark ironwood tree. He'd try to shinny up the tree a ways and would get a couple feet up and the slide down. He did this two or three times before the hog was close enought that it wasn't an option anymore. He finally just tried to spin around the little tree and keep it between him and the hog. He didn't have to hold the hog off too long because the hog evidently heard me laughing my rear end off and decided I was a better target. My dad could've been tusked to pieces and I wouldn't have been any help. I was laughing too hard to even breathe.  After the hog headed in my direction it wasn't nearly as funny. When he started my way I turned and all that old hog saw was butthole and elbow. I was gettin' it out of there. I made it to a 4' woven wire fence about the same time he did. I did a Fosbury Flop over the fence and kicked that hog right in the face as it hit the fence full force. That seemed to deter him a bit and he turned and trotted off. I still swear he was snickering as he left.

Happened to me too... Cleared the clothes but not the fletching on every one of the arrows in my quiver. Note to self: don't leave the hip quiver on while "coppin' a squat".  

It was the first day of the 2003 archery season and was very hot. On that particular day, me and one of my buddies decided to go try a place that I had hunted some in the previous years because there was a lot of standing corn around. We had also seen several nice bucks, including the biggest buck I have ever seen in the wild, on this farm before the season. We were not aloud to hang stands on this property, so we were forced into using our climbing stands. By the time I got situated into the tree I usually hunted in, I was so hot and sweaty that I figured I would not see any deer. As soon I started to get cooled down I got the feeling I was going to have to take a leak. Now I know a lot of people will say that human urine has no effect on deer, but I just can't let myself spread all that scent after working so hard to contain the rest of my scent.
   I knew that climbing back down the tree then back up it was not worth, so I resorted to my only option. I took out my bottle of HS Scents Cover-Up scent and sprayed myself down one last time and dumped the rest onto the ground and used the empty bottle as a "storage" container. I sealed the bottle up and set it on my stand and went back to hunting. After a fairly slow night, I packed up and headed by to my car. But some were along the way I dropped the bottle and didn't realize it. This is where it gets interesting.
   On the following Saturday morning, I shot a buck. I was not sure of the hit, so we let it go until 2:00 p.m. My buddy that hunted with me on the first night, and my dad, brother, and brother-in-law all came to help recover the animal. Luckily we located the buck in about 20 minutes. When we were all back at my place taking care of the deer, I mentioned how a couple of does had scented me earlier in the morning. Someone brought up the topic of using cover scent. As were are talking, my little brother mentions that him and his buddy Jeff had been using this cover up sent that he said smelled really bad. He said they found the bottle last week and had been spraying each other down with is before every hunt. Now by this time I was starting to wonder what kind of scent this was. So I asked to see the bottle. As soon as I saw, I asked him were he had gotten it, and sure enough he said he had found it on the tram road leading back into were I had hunted on the first evening. At this point me and my buddy are laughing so hard we can't even stand up. Some how I managed to tell them the story and that my little brother had been spraying himself and his buddy down with my pee all week. The bad thing was, was that by that time the bottle was empty and my brother informed that they both had been spraying down everything with it, head nets, hats, everything. To this day I still bust up laughing every time I see a bottle of HS Scents.

Did you offer them free refills?
What's a brother for?

Killdeer   :biglaugh:

This is part of a story that Trashwood (Rusty) wrote about our elk hunt a couple years back when we got into a bunch of grouse.

"We were working Elk at least one hunt everyday and most of the days we were on them morning and evening but now I was hunting split vision. One eye for 'em hissey elk and da other from dem wonderful grouse.

Toward the end of the second week we had spotted an area that we called grouse alley    Wa HOOOOOOOOOOO. We decide to go pester the elk in grouse alley and then just stop by and check on my friends DA GROUSE!.....

Wingnut is on da point. Got his tail in da air and getting small for da grouse stalk. He's gotta her spotted. Now first off it will make ya giggle to see wingnut da bear getting grouse small for da stalk.....WHACK and grouse down fills da air. Wound! Wingnut is now 4x4 moving like a black bear trying to hook his runner with his log bow and string. I see Wingnut's butt disappear over the draw just as I see another grouse behind him. Well OK I let Wingnut take a few more crawls to clear a shot window for me....ya know safety first and beside we'as a shooting 38 cases  . WHACK! oh dang another runner and a fast one. Wingnut has string hooked his grouse and broke da grouses neck only to look back up and see me and my grouse making like greyhounds around a little pecker pole. I throw a shoe string tackle on my runner only to have him break da tackle; By dis time Wingnut has another one in his eye and about to put the stalk on it. I'm back up on my feet and hard on the tail for my runner......Wingnut says "Dang it Rusty ya'as a scaring my grouse".........Now that really hit my funny bone. Here is a guy 6'4" 260#, just broke a grouse neck by hand, looking like da cat dat eat the canary, he's got grouse feathers all in his bread, da air is full of grouse down he's got a 38 case blunt gapped on another poor ole grouse and he thinks I'm scaring he's dang grouse. Well now dat just took all da wind out of my open field runner after my winged grouse. Lucky my grouse run on da other side of Wingnut and he put the WHACK on it. Now he gets grouse small for da stalk on his new grouse in da tree. I'm on da ground hysterical with laughter. WHACK! Another grouse hits the dirt.....and he thinks I scaring 'em poor little grouse. Well dar is da big bear he's got more grouse feather in da air from two (well one and one-half, I'm claiming a 1/2 on my runner) He was down wind of his last grouse in da tree wo now he is litter cover with grouse feathers and stand in a pile of them. got a grim on his face now like da cat dat ate da canary....and the absurdity of his statement hit him or made it was just that fact that I was about to expire cause I could get enough oxygen to breath I'as a laughing so hard.

Well I guess it was one of 'em times ya just had to be there but I laughed myself silly "

And it was just that funny.

Mike

I never go hunting without my nonscented babywipes after years of experience in the field.

I went on my first Canadian hunt back in 2005 and me and my buddies started drinking befor we ever left the states early that morning.

The first morning of our hunt it was way below zero and my stomach just couldnt take it anymore so i grabbed my backpack and broke the world record 100 yard dash back up the trail.

After i got through doing my business i reached in my backpack to get my non scented baby wipes and they were so frozen i could have driven a nail into a tree with them.

Thank God for smartwool underwear.  :banghead:

The second Friday of 2009 archery season, on my way home from work I saw 4 doe out in a cut corn field. i drove past the field and stocked back along the rail road tracks, about 75 yards ahead of me the deer crossed the tracks, and proceeded cross the rd and feed in someones front yard, I had a 30 yard broad side shot at the biggest doe. Not wanting to shoot across the road at into some one front yard I did not take the shot. I then notice the deer started to follow a cat around the yard, the cat crossed back across the road and wound up about 20 yard in front of me, on the tracks. The deer were following the cat ( I was thinking perfect). The first doe was just about to the edge of the tracks, and the cat noticed her, and ran back across the road and out back of the house, and of coarse the deer followed it.    dang Cat !!!!

:biglaugh:    :biglaugh:    :biglaugh:    :biglaugh:     Thanks for some great stories!

This happened in route to a hunting trip but it's a good one!

Myself and my dad had flew out to Durango Colorado for an upcoming elk hunt from Indianapolis, IN. We had a 2:00 A.M flight to catch and arrived at the aairport around midnight, so we both had only a cat nap before we left.

We arrived in Durango early in the A.M. and were staying the night in a local hotel where our outfitter was picking us up the following morning. Well once we arrived at the hotel we had a pretty buisy day running errands for groceries and last minute supplies for our hunt, and doing a little sight seeing around town. Anyway by 5 P.M. or so we were completley beat and decided to call it a night and hit the rack.

The phone woke me and I looked at the clock and it said 7:00! Crap the outfitter was supposed to pick us up at that exact time. The phone was empty when I answered it and I asssumed it was out wake up call, So I yelled at Dad and we both scrambled to gather gear and head outside in front of the lobby area. It was cool and cloudy and we were excited to be heading out! By seven thirty the outfitter had not showed so I went back up to our room and called them. They said they were not scheduled to pick us up until the following day! I was confused and argued that according to my plans we due to be picked up today! They insisted I was wrong and told me they would pick me up the next day. Confused I walked back downstairs and explained to Dad the conversation I had with out outfitter.

Realizing that there wasn't much we could do we went to the desk to book another night at the hotel. The clerk looked at me like I was crazy  (I'm somewhat used to that look). He said so you will be checking out on th 9th? I said no we will be checking out on 8th. He said we were already scheduled to check out on the 8th. I said no I had only reserved one night and now needed a second we hadn't reserved two days originaly. Once again I get the crazy look. I turned sround to say something to Dad when it all hit me. It was not morning, when I looked behind him I could see it was getting not darker not lighter! We had only slept two hours not all night and we thought it was already the next day! Needless to say the desk clerk had a great laugh, and so did our outfitter a little later when I explained it all to him!

The phone call I ended up finding out later that evening was my wife calling mwe to tell me our middle child had dislocated his shoulder in a baseball game! It just so happened she called at exactly 12 hours before we were suppose to get a wake up call!

These are good ones guys, keep them coming.

When I was a kid down in Texas I got dropped off near a ground blind to hunt for the morning.  I took my bow and knelt down on the ground behind the branches that had been piled up to make a blind (pretty high tech blind, I know) and waited.  My knees were on the ground, with my butt resting on my heels.  I figured that when I shot I could raise up and shoot over the top of the blind this way.  Pretty smart, I thought.

So I waited.  And waited.  And waited..........It's full light now and there's a horn honking out by the road, so I stand up and realize my feet have gone to sleep.  

I fell over and my feet wouldn't work because they hadn't had any blood in them for so long.  They honked again and I finally managed to get moving toward the old dirt road before they sent out a search party.  When I got back to the truck I caught a ration of **** for falling asleep and nobody would believe that it was just my feet that were sleeping!

Kirk

I've got Y'all BEAT!!

I was on my FIRST hunt a couple of weeks ago. My buddy had some skunk scent.....yep. Told me to dip 4 Q-Tips and put them in the blind with me. I was a LITTLE suspicious of that many. I kinda' saw them giggling on their way out. Stank to High Heaven!

Guess what!?!? I took them with me and FROZE them!! They are vacuum sealed and in a small margarine container. Guess what's going to happen in the middle of summer next year??? Right under the seat in the truck....opened!

Don't mess with a prankster with patience....hehe!

Good times and I laughed!

Several years ago I was out hunting on a beautiful Fall morning. Not being a great fan of tree stands I had built a nice ground blind about 30 yds off some unused RR tracks next to a well used deer run. About twenty yds further along the run I made a scrape. Because these tracks hadn't been used in years the Yuppies found them to be a great place for wilderness walks (without actually having to go into the woods). Shortly after setting up I could hear voices coming down the tracks. Sure enough a Yuppie couple out for their walk, wearing their best LL Bean attire. When they got to the point where the deer cross the tracks the guy points out the foot prints and convinces the lady to follow them and maybe catch a glimpse of an elusive Whitetail. They followed the trail till they came to the "scrape". He pointed it out to his wife and proceeded to tell her how the male Whitetail deer will clear an area on the ground and urinate in it. The female Whitetail deer will then come along, smell the urine and know that he is around and available for a little romance. The lady pondered this for a moment then got down on all fours and stuck her nose in the scrape. After taking a deep sniff she lifted her head and exclaimed "I don't smell anything!"

I could not help myself. I burst out laughing which of course scared the heck outta them. The guy started chuckling when he realized I was not a wild animal but the lady apparently didn't have a sense of humor cause she demanded they leave right now refusing to acknowledge my apologies

At elk camp outside Telluride, we got up one morning and glassed the meadows on the mountains above camp. There was a herd of cows with a good bull, so we hit the trail, figuring they would bed in the black timber nearby. It was about a three mile hike with 1000 foot gain in elevation, around the base of the mountain and up an old mining road to a sheepherder's trail, where we could come up to a high saddle without exposing ourselves to the elk.

When we finally reached the saddle, we sat down for some much-needed rest and to let our lungs catch up to the 10,000 foot altitude. In the low-oxygen euphoria, I told our guide friend a joke that cracked him up so much that we all laughed uncontrollably, rolling around in the grass. The next thing we heard was the herd of elk crossing a scree slide, high-tailing it out of the country! They had been bedded only about 100 yards away, and apparently didn't appreciate the joke at all.

Sure wish I could remember the joke- might have been the one about chipmunks and duct tape...

Coming back to camp after pitch dark and using no flashlight, I had instead a turkey in one hand and my bow in the other, I center stepped a Diamondback in the middle of the trail. You'll know PDQ when you're mind flashes "MISTAKE". Sam was buzzing like a beehive. To this day I don't know how I turned 180 in the air, loosed the turkey one way & bow the other, and hit the deck in full stride? Not knowing or otherwise caring which direction; and most definitely not on purpose, I made short distance of the nearest mesquite tree (known for their sharp needles). Time stopped. In less than a second, I size 13'ed Sammy, escaped, & was captured again by all his buddies doing their best to bite me everywhere I wasn't grabbing. Warm blood (later disproven) trickled down my leg. Never had a heart attack but if it fills up with air & gets hard as a rock at the same time, I was as close as I've ever been. Practiced swooning for awhile after till my thoughts came back. My hunt buds back at camp thought it was hilarious.

I was out with my bow hunting deer in the winter; and wearing snow camo. As I slowly stalked and spotted with my binoculars; I headed towards a buck; and about half way there; I saw another bowhunter headed my way. He was walking like he was discouraged; and I thought he would stop and talk. But he got closer and closer; and I realized he could not see me at all. So; I let him walk a yard or so by me; and then when he was gone - I started chuckling to myself about my great ability to conceal myself.
Then there was this loud voice: "THINK YOUR PRETTY SMART - HUH ??".  I think the shock about blew the top of my head off. It was a bowhunter with a longbow; that was a few feet to my right; that was equally well camoed.
 Simple case of Yin and Yang in the space of minutes !

I might as well tell a crappy story here-
My bowhunting friend and I got up one morning and were going to head out from camp to a spot for elk. Well my buddy had started the truck up; and I got in; and a few minutes later he got in. He looked at me and said 'you smell like crap'.
I wasn't sure what to say; and he looked at me again and said 'really- you smell like crap !'.
  I didn't know what to say; then he turned to me and said 'get out of my truck- you smell like CRAP !!'.
 So; I did; and he went off bowhunting to one area- and I walked to another.
 At the end of the day; we met back in camp; and he said he owed me an apology. He said he had pooped before getting in the truck; and had not realized in the darkness; that he had 'gone' right on top his suspenders. So when he pulled up his pants and looped on his suspenders - he had paper and all: stuck to the back of his shirt!  

Hey: and if your hunting with Mike Orton; and he stops and searches his pack and asks if he can borrow your gloves..... don't be a fool and lend him your gloves ! It just means he left his toilet paper in camp !
( lesson learned)

I was walking in to a stand one afternoon when I noticed something moving through the grass ahead of me.  Thinking it was a skunk I stopped and watched it come closer toward me.  It turned out to be an armadillo.

I watched it until it got within about three feet directly in front of me.  I then reached out and tapped it on the back with my longbow.  The armadillo jumped about three feet straight up, which was a sufficient height for it to get all four feet engaged in high gear, and took off like a shot when it landed headed directly at me.  The resulting impact with my left shin almost knocked me over and left a softball sized bruise on my shin.

The lesson learned was to make sure an armadillo is facing a direction other than toward you before you scare it.

Dennis

That's funny, Dennis.  I had one do the exact same thing to me.  I whacked it with a stick and he ran right into me.  Hurt like hell.

My funniest hunting story... you asked for it.  This is a fairly long story, but to get the full effect takes time, so sit back and enjoy this with a cup of coffee.  All I can say is it hurts to be young and stupid...

I had just got out of the Marines and was itching to get outdoors, it was springtime in Wyoming, my home state, and a bear hunt was in order.  Now baiting bears is a monster pain in the rump when you're a broke former Marine who just started college so I thought backpacking into the Wind River Range and spending a few days spotting and stalking bears would be a good idea.    

Well in late April or early May the snow is still deep in that area of the world.  So, I borrowed a buddies four wheeler and planned to use that to access the wilderness area, where I would start backpacking.  Everything was going to plan, it was a beautiful day and I got to the "end of the road" without any problems.  I loaded up the pack, slung it on my back and grab my bow.  

The area has some grizzlies, not too many, but enough to make me think I should probably have some sort of protection.  In Wyoming it is illegal to carry a gun during archery season (it may not be now, but it was then), so my "protection" was a can of bear pepper spray, you know the big industrial size can of extra hot mace.  Like I said, I was broke so I had to borrow a can of this stuff from my brother.

So there I was, ready to take off up the trail, but wondering what to do with this can of bear spray.  This was in the days before all the bear spray cans came with holsters.  I didn't want to cram it in my pack, what if a bear charged me, and you can't just hold on to it.  Well I concluded I would cram it in the hand warmer pocket of my fleece jacket.  So with my left hand I not so gently pushed it in the pocket.  This is where everything goes bad...

To be honest, I'm not really sure how all this happened, but I felt the can snag on the lip of my jacket pocket and looked down just in time to catch a full blast of bear pepper spray up the left side of my face.  Honestly folks, I've endured some pain in my days but nothing like this.  I immediately realized I had a major problem on my hands, it felt like some one had dipped my face in gasoline, lit it on fire, and stomp it out wearing a golf cleat.  That stuff will stop King Kong in a full charge, guaranteed!  

The blast of pepper spray knocked me off my feet and I landed on my back, still wearing the backpack.  Some reading this story may take issue with this statement, but my momma didn't raise a dummy.  As I lay there like a flipped over turtle trying desperately to get upright I consciously made a decision not to breathe until I absolutely had to.  The last thing I wanted was that crap in my lungs.  

I got unhitched from my pack about the time I had to breath, and when I did breath a string of professional grade profanity came out that would make my drill instructors proud.  Man, I was in bad shape and decided to take stock of my situation.  My left eye was shut and I wasn't going to open it anytime soon.  My right eye was watering profusely, and my nose was bubbling snot like a gurgle pot.  I was also hacking and coughing and the pain in my face was unbelievable.    

I needed some first aid and thought the pepper spray can would have some information on it.  With the can of bear pepper spray held about 6 inches from my tear soaked right eye I was able to learn some interesting facts about bear spray.  Fact #1 it's a federal offence to shoot someone with bear spray, and I now know why.  Fact #2 the effects of bear spray last 45 minutes!  "Holy crap", I thought "It's been 45 seconds and I think I'm gonna die!"  Fact #3 if you do shoot yourself with bear spray, your supposed to seek a doctor "IMMIDIATELY".  That had me concerned because I was at least 4 IMMIDATE hours from a doctor, and all by myself.  The can also said I was supposed to wash with soap and water.

Well, I was SOL on the soap and my little water bottle wasn't going to get it done.  Looking around with my right eye, I could make out shapes and colors but no detail.  I made out a big white thing I took to be a snow drift and started crawling towards it.  When I got there I reached down scooped up some snow and started rubbing it on my face.  Uncomfortable as snow getting rubbed in your face is usually, I don't know why I thought this would help; all it did was make matters worse.  Really it felt like someone was taking a cheese grater to my already very injured face.  I stood up, and started cussing again, it made me fell better.  

I recalled crossing a creek on the 4-wheeler maybe a quarter mile back, so I hobbled over to the wheeler, got on, and goter' fired up.  Like I said, my left eye was out of commission, and my right was watering like nothing I've ever experienced before.  Imagine 100 onions in a blender and that's half the eye watering going on.  So I basically can't see beyond about 1 foot in front of me.  I start moving slowly down the hill on this "road" which was really an improved goat trail.  I was doing pretty well for about 200 yards, until a branch I didn't even see hit me and knocked me off the wheeler.  It was like a high speed crash in slow motion. The 4-wheeler continued down the hill, rider-less until it flipped over and crashed into a tree.  

At this point I pretty much lost it.  I started the blind staggers, with lots of moaning, sniveling, coughing, and cussing, down hill until I hit the creek.  Once at the creek I spent the next 45 minutes with my head under water and feet on the bank in a sort of inverted push-up, only coming out of the 40 degree water for air.  At some point, I forced my left eye open and held my head underwater in an attempt to allow the current to flush my eye.  I stated to feel better and I could see well out of my right eye, but my left wasn't functioning.  My skin hurt and was sensitive to the touch and very sensitive to direct sunlight.  

After I felt better I walked up the hill, found the 4-wheeler, flipped it upright, took stock of the cracked fender, and bent handle bar.  I drove up to retrieve my pack and bow and turned around and headed home.  Shooting yourself with bear pepper spray is definitely a show stopper; I quit having fun and wanted to go home.  By the time I got to the truck and loaded my friend's broke 4-wheeler I could see out of my left eye, which was a good thing.  I got in and looked in the mirror to check thing out only to find the left side of my face was stained orange!  Good god! I could not catch a break.  It wasn't like I could just play this off like nothing happened with half my face stained orange!  By the time I drove the 3 hours home, I was feeling better, almost 90%.  But I was really sensitive to direct sunlight for days afterwards.

When I walked in the house; my brother gave me a strange look and asked how my hunt went.  I told him the story and he just laughed and said he forgot to tell me, he dropped the can of bear spray and cracked the plastic firing mechanism.  There was almost a homicide that night...

Well, there it is my funniest hunting story.  I hope you enjoyed it.


Epilogue
I case you were wondering I have no ill health effects from this event.  My vision is fine, and my skin eventually returned to a normal color.  Only my pride and any amount of perceived hunting savvy among my friends was sacrificed.  This episode also cost a then broke former Marine college student a few hundred bucks to get my friend's 4-wheeler fixed.  

I still use bear spray on occasion, but treat it like a hand grenade that could go off at any second.  Perhaps I should use my Smith and Wesson 44 mag.  If I should ever be as unfortunate to shoot myself in the face with that it would probably cause more damage, but less pain.    

Some research into bear spray shows the active ingredient in the spray is "capsaicinoid compounds" the same things that make chili peppers hot.  A habanero chili pepper has about .002% capsicinoid compounds and bear pepper spray has about 15%.  The pepper spray you would buy your wife or daughter for self defense has about 5% capsacinoid compounds.  Like I said, it will stop King Kong, and make men wish they were dead.

Tom,

Aside from the humor ex post facto in your tellin of the story, there are a few good lessons in there. Thanks!

Fella used to hang here, Bill Wooster, did some guiding out West in what they called Griz Alley.

It was an area full of elk, but where the rangers dumped "nuisance" griz they trapped.

The rangers even carried bandoliers with industrial size bear spray.

In the local "get it all" store, in came a Turon one day. Now you have to hear Bill tell it to really get the flavor, but a "touron" was what they called a greenhorn Tourist MOron, ergo, Tour-on.  :)

Bill said a guy comes in all decked out in spanking new hiking gear foot to head and wants to know about this "bear spray."

He buys a can and goes out...big rock in the parking area...so he perches on it and starts messin with this can of bear spray...

All of a sudden, an orange cloud envelops this chap and they said an axe murder victim makes less noise.  Doom on Dickey the Touron, but to hear Bill tell it... you had to laugh.

Reading your story was a bit more detailed and I kinda felt the pain right along with you...

Thanks for sharing. Man... that has to leave an impression... Your math sounds right, too.  the 5% stuff effect lasts about 15 min, so the 3X stronger 15% should ought to last 45... Wow.

These are too funny! There's gotta be another skeleton or two in somebody's closet. C'mon folks ante up.

I was in the stand once, and right about prime time, I had to pee. I hung my bow up, then got the pee bottle and started to go. I hear some soft crunching behind me and look over my shoulder to see a doe and her fawns coming my my. Well, I had to finish first, then screw the cap on the jug and hang it back up, then grab my bow, get an arrow and nock it, etc. Couldn't believe I didn't spook them. I shot the doe and a button buck who just stood there after she bolted off and crashed about 50 yards later.

Tom, Dan Quillian believed that deer are attracted to the sound of peeing! He told me once about getting out of his stand and walking to a nearby creek to let it out. While he was doing it noisily into the water, a big 10 pt. came to check it out. Of course, his bow wasn't close enough to get his hands on it in time. Since that happened, he just peed out of his stand, and swore it sometimes brought deer in.

On of the funniest sights I've seen in the woods was ol' Dan, going in to hunt from the ground on the Big Pine club that he and I were members of in south GA. He had found a fake fur coat at a yard sale somewhere that was multi-colored, and he decided it made good camo. He looked like a drag queen dressed to kill! Dan was a unique individual, a true iconoclast.

Hello!

Couple of years ago I was hunting first time russian boars in Estonia, in all new settings to me (terrain, country, game spieces)I was still hunting in this woodlot, witch included couple of fallen spruces and lots of frozen leafs from oaks and other leafy trees...now, I try to move so slowly because of these noisy leafs, when suddenly I hear CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH behind one of those fallen, thick spruces...I was sure, that much noise could come only from a major boar walking in those leafs...adrenaline was pumbing high and my grip from the bow was so tense...CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH coming near to end of the fallen tree and I knew in any second the beast would be visible...CRUNCH, CRUNCH...my pulse rate was in red alert and I was telling to myself to calm, pick a spot and stuff...and THEN I saw the noisemaker...a little squiller came from there in his way to next oak...because of those frozen leafs his footsteps made such a racket one could never belive such a little critter could perform that noise...after I could breath again, I was lafing to myself quite a lot...

Risto  :biglaugh:    :biglaugh:    :biglaugh:   Now thats funny.

My experience was painful, but funny in retrospect.
 This past October, 15' up in my tree stand, I sat with my nice vintage 1968 Bear Kodiak Hunter in my lap. A brisk, perfect day in the Maine woods, and the warm sunshine showing all the fall colors on the leaves.
  I had the arrows hanging in my quiver on a branch to my right. I was waiting for a deer, but that pesky grey tree rat kept scurrying back and forth in the leaves. So I decided to swap my broad head, on the string, for a judo tip (in the quiver, on the branch), and take a shot. After all, one can never get enough practice.
  As I turned to my right to get my judo arrow, my left elbow bumped my bow, and before I could grab it, it began it's fall to the forest floor. It seemed to float in slow motion! As I watched in horror, my hands grasping at thin air, my mint condition bow landed on the ground, bounced once, and came to rest a few mere inches from a rock! I sat there in disblief and horror, and the squirrel ran off in the direction of New Hampshire, obviously happy that this mornings predator was about as agile as a Sasquatch with hemroids on ice skates.
  One small scratch as a lesson to me, and aside from that and my pride, no damage. As I climbed back up into my perch with my bow, I had to laugh to myself, as I'm sure that off in the distance, the squirrel was laughing even louder!

Up for more laughs!!  :biglaugh:  

Man there have been some doozies here guys that had me in stitches!!

Back about 10 years ago, a friend that I used to work with's family had a cabin that he invited me and a couple other people up to for the weekend to do a little hunting.

We had all gotten up, ate a quick breakfast, had a cup of coffee or two and headed out for the morning. It was agreed that we all would meet back at the cabin, somewhere around noon. It was fairly cold outside, and we all had on all the cold weather gear that we owned.

Upon arriving back at the cabin, we headed inside for a little more substantial and belly filling lunch. We were all sitting around the table, and one of Toby's friends said "I smell poop".........Nah, everyone said.......someone just released some built up gas. There wasn't another word spoken about the "smell". We were outside on the porch, getting ready to head back to our stands for the evening sit and another of Toby's friends said......."I smell it now, and it does smell like poop". Several of us, mosey over to see if these guys are imagining things or what..........NOPE........something smells like poop.

About this time, you can see us all lifting up our feet and checking to see if we have anything of that nature attached to the boot soles.

Nope.............nothing on any of our boots.

We all start "sniffing" out the source of the odor, and it leads us over to poor ole' Toby.

It seems that he had to "answer natures call" that morning and when he dropped his coveralls and his hooded sweatshirt underneath that he didn't pull them up far enough forward, when he squatted to drop a chilupa.

Yep.........his hood on his sweatshirt was indeed the source of the "poop" smell. You oughta seen him gettin' outa them clothes.

He had us all checking to see if he had any of "it" on him......anywhere. Luckily, he didn't or if he did, we couldn't see it. He promptly threw his sweatshirt in the firepit outside.

I guess if there was a "good" part to this story, for poor ole' Toby.........it would have been that he didn't pull the hood up over his head.........afterwards.

That's my story........and I'm sticking to it.

Disclaimer: The names of the people may have been changed to protect the innocent.

Winterhawk1960

I can't top any of these stories, but I have had a couple of comical experiences that I'll share around our spontaneous campfire.

I took a novice hunting a couple of years ago and we were sitting in a natural ground blind (brush pile) that was in front of a big oak tree.  The blind was adjacent to a block of woods, and was positioned about 20 yards out into a field where deer often  walked on their way through the pasture feeding.  At almost dark we began to hear something coming through the woods and toward our position.  As the sound grew louder, I told my friend to get ready for a shot as I expected the "deer" to emerge from the woods at any moment.
I can not tell you look of shock we both had when
the "deer" materialized as a skunk and waddled quickly in our direction.  My gosh, I didn't know two people could move that fast!  I still laugh every time I think about that experience!

My final story is a true comedy of errors.  I was bowhunting down in west Texas when I wide antlered 8 pointer gave me a broadside shot.  I thought the distance to the buck was about 19 yards, so from my perch in a well-leafed live oak tree, I drew and released an arrow...shooting right under the deer.  The big buck hopped once, looked around, and came right back to almost the exact spot where he had been standing previously.  Determined not to miss, I concentrated intently and launched another cedar on its way...again shooting right under the buck.  The deer was only slightly suspicious and once again dropped his head to feed, ignoring the signs of danger.  I couldn't believe it!!!Okay...third time must be a charm, I thought.  When the deer turned broadside yet again, I tried to steady myself to make good on my opportunity and shot one more time.  This time, I shaved hair from beneath the buck's chest and watched my third arrow bury harmlessly into the same bush that provided the backstop for the other two arrows.  Needless to say, Mr. Whitetail decided to relocate to a palce that provided less drama!
When I climbed down from the tree to retrieve my arrows, they were all tightly grouped together at the base of the bush...not even a smidgen of blood to be found.  I could not understand how I could have missed this buck three times, so I took out my range finder and checked the distance...23 yards. I'm a gap shooter and I was shooting for the wrong range!  :knothead:    :banghead:  

All I can say is that as long as that old buck lived, I'm sure he smiled every time he thought of the brilliant bowhunter who forgot to use her range finder until after the hunt! Just call me Einstein   :biglaugh:

Claudia

Lukily I can't top any of these either!

I've got two.

I was hunting with a friend who's one of these guys that whatever goes wrong can..but half of it he brings on himself.

The night before hunting we hit a local restaurant for dinner. Later that night he complained he didn't feel good but my wife and I dismissed it as him over reacting.

We were staying in an old farmhouse, sleeping in the upstairs as another group was on the first floor. In the middle of the night my wife gets up to use the bathroom downstairs and finds my buddy curled in the fetal position, lying on the stairway landing moaning and shivering. She helps him back into his bed.

We got up to get ready to hunt and he says I don't feel good and runs outside to vomit. He's out there for a bit, comes back in and says he vomited on his shoes. When asked how the heck he did that he said he ran over to the barb wire fence by the pasture leaned over and didn't realize his shoes were sticking out on the other side of the fence.

He stayed at the house and when I came back for lunch I told him he should eat something. He complained he thought he got food poisoning, that he was never eating anything natural again, and proceeded to hork down a lunch of Sprite and red licorice-cause that will make you feel better.
We tried to talk him into staying so we could keep an eye on him but he insisted he was leaving and elected to drive the 5 hours home by himself.

A couple days later I returned home and called him to see how he made it. He made it all right-in his pants...bout halfway home he had to dispose of his underwear along the Interstate. I laughed so hard I cried.

Another time I was hunting a limited access public area. There's a lottery system to get in and sometimes there's alot of hunters trying to get in and your lucky if you do get in.

Anyways, my number was picked and I got in. I had a stand site picked out where earlier I had a nice doe and fawn just out of range. I was pumped to get in and return to the same spot.

It was in the upper teens. After parking the truck I opened the back hatch, pull out my tupperware bin of hunting clothes and my eyes pop out as I realize I grabbed the wrong bin and these are all of my summer hunting clothes. (They've since been labeled.)

Well I'd been up since 3am, got in and was pumped to sit the same area so I put on the only camo I had-chamois shirt and pants, cotton gloves-and headed out to see how long I could last. I made it until about a half an hour after sunrise. When I went to climb out of my stand I almost couldn't get down because I was so stiff from the cold and my fingers weren't fully functional.

Wasn't funny at the time and wasn't smart but I was so pumped to be out there. And no I didn't see anything because I was shivering so bad.

I got tears streaming out of my eyes from laughing so hard after reading that first post........

I was sitting in my stand and it was approx. -20 deg.C. I had that second cup of coffee in the morning and figured I could stay in my stand till 10 am. Being past 65 years of age when you got to go you better do it. I got down from my stand and walked about 200 yds to the landing and started digging for willie. Along with frozen hands and 3 pairs of underware I was struggling. I finally ripped everything down and after finding relief I almost peed myself laughing as one of my pairs of longjohns had no fly in them. No wonder they were on sale. And yes they were mens.

I have a bunch of stories but I'll start with this one:

I snore, acording to my wife I snore loud and deep.  

On one hunt I fell asleep leanin against a fallen tree.  I woke to a silent forest but when I opened my eyes there were at least 8 deer within spiting distance. They were staring at me like something out of the Twilight Zone.  We all stared at each other for a few minutes (probably seconds) until I tried moving my bow.  All the deer went into a panic, they weren't the only ones disturbed.  

The best I can figure they crept up on me because of the snoring. I think I called em in.  

Is it illegal to play a tape of myself snoring while hunting??

I won't even mention the early morning I used a climbing stand on a slick popular tree.  The very second I sat down and took the weight off the bottom, it went ticky ticky all the way down to the ground.  Left me sitting way up in the tree with my feet dangling.  

Let me tell you, a old fat guy's legs are no substitute for the bottom part of a climbing stand.

Yesterday I saw Jaime (ishawanabe)  Miss a rabbit and then dive after it coming pretty close.  Funny stuff right there!

Well I know I can't top these but I know i have just as many so I'll start with one quick one. It was the first day of deer season this year. I hopped in the ol '52 Chevy pickup right after work and headed to some public land about hour away. I parked at the first gravel entrance that wasn't occupied, got my gear on & grabbed my bow. Well I parked right by the little sign where Missouri Conservation posts a map and some regulations so I figured I'd take a look, as soon as I started reading out of the corner of my eye I spot a doe walking broadside right behind the '52 (I'm standing at the front fender) So I crouch down take off my boots (boots & gravel not good) I creep to the other fender and got in position for her to walk out from behind the truck,I kneel down, calm down, and ready my bow...........She walks out and ....BAM !!!! An acorn the size of a bowling ball smacks right square on the fat fenderd '52 !!!!....I think I jumped about as high as that doe did...Well I knew then I was in for a fun season.

around ten years ago i was elk hunting in burns.carl and i had called in this great herd bull at least 5 times but he always stopped just out of range,finally we gave up trying to call him in.carl exclaimed he had to take a dump,i dug into my pack for the roll of tp.carl tells me he doesn't crap in the woods...i tell carl its two miles back to the truck...he went down in the pines to do his thing.our bows are lying side by side on two small windfalls.i am waiting on carl when all of a sudden i look up and here stands a nice big fat spike bull,i was shocked,i reach slowly down to my bow..slowly picking it up and removing an arrow as i went,the whole time the spike is staring with great interest into the trees in carls direction.i finally get my bow up..arrow is nocked..i pull back and the arrow falls off the back of the handle.i look at the bow and realize i had grabbed carls bow.i slowly put his bow down and grab mine.the spike is still standing there less than twenty yds away staring mesmerized by what was going on down there in the trees.i heard carl grunting and i was cracking up inside.i pulled an arrow off my quiver..raise my bow while drawing back i reach full draw when i hit my anchor.i hold less than a second and let the shot go exhaling as i did so.....all of a sudden i feel a huge yank on my neck and a burning searing pain in my neck and head..my arrow flew off into orbit.the spike suddenly snapped back into reality and blew out of there doin 60 right in carls direction..i'm seriously thinking i'm dying,carls yelling what the hells goin on up there..what happened was my two cow calls that are on strings around my neck had gotten wrapped in my bowstring when i drew back as i came up with the bow.WARNING:do not attempt this as it can and does cause severe neck pain and welts around the neck.....ow....  :D    :bigsmyl:    :D  carl got a hoot out of it and so did i after the pain subsided.

I've been there myself Elkherder except I didn't have anyone else around to entertain my deer..lol and mine was a grunt tube. Dang those things can hurt you!
God bless,Mudd

Elkherder.......I would pay good money to see a video of that (except for the Carl sound bites).  That had to be a comedy of errors!!

If only elk could talk.............think what he would be telling the rest of the herd!

We have a lot of rock ledges on the hillsides around here, 5'-10' high. I jumped some muley does and they took off up the hill. One of them made an attempt to clear one of those little rimrocks and didn't make it. She went tumbling back down the hill (probably a 45° angle). When she stopped rolling she stood up, shook of the dust,  and I swear she was looking around to see if anybody was watching. Then she bogeyed off in another direction. I know it had to hurt but I guess deer can be clumsy sometimes too. I had to sit and laugh my tail off for awhile.

These are great!

I'm just glad I don't have any stories to share

Years ago when living and hunting east of EU Claire Wisconsin.  I was working along a high moraine ridge.  I stopped to glass the broad valley below at a break in the rocks where I could go up and down by pushing my feet against the opposite side of the crack.  To my left I saw a bear and across the bog and up a bit there was a nice eight pointer.  I struggled across the bog and found where the water was as deep as my neck, and cold too.  I watched trout swim in that deep hole while I planned my stalk on the buck.  However, the buck came down to edge of the bog, probably to hear what all the splashing was about and spooked not 30 yards from me as soon as I hit dry land.  next after the bear.  I stayed on the dry side and slowly I worked up to the tall red pine that I used for a marker. Got there looked down into the bog, no bear.  Went a little further, BEAR ARE FAST, nothing more than a black streak flying through the trees. I found a better place to cross where swimming was optional and headed back to the break in the cliff.  At the bottom I just had to poop before I inched my way back up. I did my business and it was good.  Pulled my pants up and looked up to see two girls looking straight down at me and laughing.  Trying not look embarrassed I climbed up as fast as I could, but when I reached the top they were gone.

hayslope.....that entire 9 days of hunting was a comedy of errors..i started out with 15 arrows..left with 0....shoulda had it all on video,woulda sold a million copies.  :bigsmyl: