Hilarious moments in hunting. You got any?

One of my best ones was when I was bowhunting in the end of October. It was a really cold day. 

I was using my Heater body suit. I was toasty warm, sitting on a three legged stool.

I fell asleep and rolled off the stool, ending up face down on the ground. I was on a slope and my head was lower than my body. I had a heck of a time getting up right.

Me, awkward?  Never.

Unless it was the time I'd been hunting hard high up in the Rockies and having zero success - so I grumpily trudged back to camp, took off my boots, got a hot cup of coffee and sat down to whine about how 'they just aren't biting today'.

That's right when a fat and sassy cow elk came trotting THRU our camp.

And me there unarmed and in my socks. 

That's when I knew God had a sense of humor and I needed a hot cup of humility.

AJ

Hmmmm. More than once, I've forgotten to put my bow in my vehicle when driving to a hunt location. Frustrating, embarrassing, and yeah, and I'd say awkward, particularly when my hunting partner asks what happened.   

On a calm October evening, the sun had just set and my stand in a thin oak strip with planted pines above me and a cane break below. I had a good feeling about this evening and my stand with my Osage selfbow and cane arrow across my lap. As dusk moved in a brown thrasher flew upon the tree next to me then decided to dive bomb me raising quite a racket. After a few minutes of this with light fading I decided to go back to camp. The next evening I was in the same tree with similar conditions and again as the time was just right here came the brown thrasher again with his antics. I climbed down from my stand and headed back to camp when I realized it wasn't me the bird was pissed at but the copperhead skin that backed my Osage selfbow. 

I was hunting public land and had found a spot where most people would not typically think to hunt. It was a small pocket of low scrub trees, but deer passed through it going from the hardwoods to cross a prairie area to another patch of woods. I found one tree in the patch big and straight enough to climb with my climber, but it was a honey locust with 3-4" thorns all the way up the trunk. Every Fall I used a hatchet to knock off the thorns to climb it. That tree was good to me over the years.
So, one weekend afternoon I decided the wind was right to hunt that tree. I threw on my pack and climber at the truck and made my way quietly to "my" tree. I took a long circuitous route to play the wind and not track things up. I was all in stealth mode feeling pretty good about how the evening would go - it felt deery.  I crossed over the last dilapidated barb wire fence and made my way to the base of "my" tree. I dropped my pack and climber and began to prepare to make my climb. I was loosening the straps on my climber, when something brushed against my face. When I looked it was a small tow string for pulling up your bow. It took about 2 seconds for the light bulb to go off - I don't leave a tow string hanging from the tree, it's tied to my stand - what the heck? I slowly cock my head and looked up to see someone standing in their own climber. I felt so stupid. I just grabbed my gear and walked out, back to the truck and went home. Someone else had found "my" tree.