Idiots afield, what's your most memorable?

[jnyork]

Best I have ever seen: Elk hunting one fall, my wife and I were creepin' and peepin' through some junipers along a ridge. We encountered a two-track and decided to take a break, resting in some brush and trees just off the trail maybe 30 or 40 feet. Taking some sips from the thermos, we heard a noisy pickup approaching . As it went by, we were astounded to see 4 bums in the pickup, two up front guzzling beer and listening to a Willie Nelson tape ( yes, we could hear it plainly). The two dipsticks in back had archery equipment, one guy had a arrow nocked up ready to go and the other one was blowing on an elk bugle. They went merrily crashing on down the trail having never even seen us. Took us a while to stop laughing.

[Leverluver]

Similar but more dangerous. I was walking a narrow mesa close to the head waters of the middle fork of the powder river that was a favorite of mine during elk season. The mesa is 3/4 mile long and only has three ways on or off it and I was watching closely as I approached each to see if anything was going up or down those paths. Along comes a pickup and it stops out on the middle of a wide open area at about 900 yards and out comes four idiots that start shooting MY DIRECTION. They was a small heard of deer at the foot of one of the mesa's entrances and they were firing away at them. The deer came on up the entrance to right where I was standing. The bullets were flying past me at a rate I didn't think could come from four bolt guns. I yelled and even fired straight up to get there attention. The deer stormed past me into cover and were definitely out of sight but they kept firing, it seemed, until they were out of ammo. That's about as close as I have ever come to intentionally killing a man because I thought I was dead and wanted to take one of those idiots with me to at least slightly clean the gene pool. I was working for a shot, at least at the pickup, when they stopped.

[ollogger]

hunting Elk in the Black Hills in the 80s with a cow tag only I sat down in a small wooded valley
& took a break, soon I see a nice bull & think that figures dang cow tag, well he walks away & not 5 minutes later the biggest Bull one could ever conjure up in his imagination comes feeding along
& gets bout 30 yards from me, he don't have a clue I even existed when a breeze came along & he
got a snort of me & crashed off up the hill stopping bout 100 yards away, all of a sudden there's
a bunch of screaming & cussing from behind me & some lunatic running at me saying why didn't you
shoot that @#&*^#$ Bull, I said I only have a cow tag & he fires back any dam fool would have shot that Bull, I said you can shoot him cuz he's standing right up there, he starts yelling I cant see him
well bout that time the biggest Bull alive decides its to noisy around here & takes off crashing up
the hill & the screamer couldn't see him from his angle to get a shot, I kid you not that guy left
still screaming & cussing me out & bawling all the same time
I screamed back at him I only have a cow tag you @#%!^


olllogger

[Mescalero]

ollogger,
now thats funny!

[claybob86]

I was fly fishing a creek in the Sierras in CA when a bunch of biker types showed up, parked and commenced to firing pistols over the creek (and my head) into the woods beyond. At what, I do not know. I think they were shooting just to be shooting. I couldn't see them and pretty sure they couldn't see me. I just hunkered down behind a rock until they quit, then I stayed low and moved upstream and away. This was not amusing.

[Pop Watts]

Let's call this guy David, because that is his name.
He came hunting with me on a sheep station (ranch) a couple of years ago.
I was already there for a few days before he arrived.
Came up to my hut (cabin) late in the afternoon and decided to check that his 30-06 was sighted in ok.
I started cooking dinner and he went outside to fire a few rounds.
Then he is screaming and I run outside and help him into the hut. He is pumping blood out of the top of his leg all over the place. Got his pants off, put pressure bandage on and got him into my ute (pick up) and started heading for town which was 50 miles away. Finally got phone service and organised an ambulance to meet us on the way in. He went to hospital and then was air lifted back to Sydney and got fixed up.
I made my way back to the hut to find his 30-06 still laying in the paddock (field) where he dropped it.
What had happened is that instead of shooting the paper target we had set up on our range, he walked up to a steel plate that I used as a target for lead bullets from my old leverguns and at point blank range tried to see if he could shoot a hole through it with his 30-06.
He has a slight limp when the weather gets cold and every time his wife sees me she thanks me for saving his life. Maybe I did, but when I realised what he had done when I got back to camp that night of the "accident" I did think that maybe I should have left him laying in the paddock.
Pop.

[barbarossa]

While deer hunting years ago ,sitting on a high hill I spotted something white bobbing up and down an oldlogging road that ran at the base of the hill.Thinking someone had spooked a deer I put my binoculars on the object only to find out it was an 8 year old girl wearing a white fur hat happily skipping down the logging road a head of her parents.I went down and confronted her parents and told them it was hunting season and not safe for the girl to be dressed like that and they told me that they had as much right to be in the woods as I had and that it was my look out to watch out for people like them not for them to worry over hunters.I walked away just shaking my head at how people could be so stupid

[RIHMFIRE]

these guys were not idiots......but

I went scouting in Ocala national forest during desert storm ...
and while I was setting up my treestand a squad of Florida national guard troopers walked by
with full gear...and they mentioned to each other ...."I have no idea where we are"...

So I waited for the all the guys walked by...
got down
snuck up behind them....and I mean right behind them
and asked them......"YOU GUYS LOST?"
Scared the you know what...out of a couple of them....

and no...I did not help them with directions....
they needed to figure that out for themselves...

[Pisgah]

Years ago I made a predawn hike of about a mile to a wooded draw on public land that had signs of being a heavily travelled deer funnel. I took a seat in a previously-selected comfortable spot beneath a sizeable oak and waited for the sun to come up. Just at first light I could hear something large slowly approaching through the fallen leaves, and I got ready -- but much to my dismay, what I saw was another hunter who took a seat not 20 yards from me. I made not a sound, but I was wearing a blaze orange vest. He spent several minutes looking around but, even though his eyes passed over me several times, he gave no sign of seeing me. Apparently confident that he was completely alone, he reached in to a jacket pocket, pulled out a joint, fired it up and began enjoying it. I watched and waited, and once he had finished his smoke I watched and waited a few minutes more. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer, and in a conversational tone I said, "You know, it is rude not to share."

I wish I could adequately describe the look of mixed shock and horror on his face as it dawned on him that I had been right there the entire time! Without saying a word, he jumped up and beat feet out of there as I laughed myself silly.

I figured my chances of taking a deer were gone up in smoke, so to speak, but I had gone to considerable effort to get there that morning and had the whole day to hunt, so I settled back down. Fifteen minutes later, I thought I heard someone else approaching -- but this time it was an eight-point buck, one of the nicest I have ever taken, and I spent the rest of the day dragging him out.

[wm]

When I was 14 we were hunting some public land in Northern Lower Michigan with my family and I had found what I thought was a real nice spot overlooking a spot beside a river where it had gotten wide and shallow and the deer were crossing regularly. It was a slow morning and I was getting bored so I started glassing across the river and saw another hunter working his way west, parallel to the river and behind him I swear it was a big black bear.

I scanned back to the hunter and he was oblivious to the bear. Back to the bear 15-20 feet behind him and sure enough it was following him. Back to the hunter. Back to the bear......it was closing the distance. Oh my God this guy is about to be attacked!!!

I raised my 30-06 and found the bear in the cross hairs and started to take up the slack on the trigger......and....the bear turned to face me. It was a woman in a black fur coat!!!! The guy had brought his wife hunting with him and let her wear a fur coat.

I told my Dad about the event 30 minutes or so later when he walked back past my spot and he suggested we cross the river and find them. I am sure he thought I was suffering some delusion but we found them. The hunter told my Dad his wife had nagged and nagged him for years about his hunting and was sure he was going North to fool around with bar tramps so to shut her up he brought her.

Personally I think he brought her to collect on her life insurance. She was a couple of ounces of pressure on my index finger away from the here after.

[2571]

Similar to above, buddy sets up opening day for deer. Here comes something big & brown crashing trough woods. Two yuppies wearing dark clothing but walking their Great Dane dog ahead of them. Opening day in that part of the state is like a high holyday with Media coverage about it for 3-4 days. Stores will be closed, etc.

Gd protects the fool.

[geobru]

In the 70's, on opening day, I took a stand in a small opening about 70 yards across, planning to sit there for a while as the deer started moving around due to the hunting pressure. I took s seat on a log near the edge of the opening. This hunter with a young boy in tow, came into the opening and sat down facing me, on a log in the center of the opening about 35 yards from my position. I sat there for a few minutes thinking that he would get up and leave when he realized that I was there, but that was not the case. I finally stood up, took a leak, and walked directly into the wind so my scent would hopefully keep any deer away from the opening and this ding dong.

The guy actually did me a huge favor that morning. I wasn't very old then, and up to that time, my dad had always plopped me on a stand and I sat there until he came to get me. I wound up shooting a very nice 3 point buck while still hunting that morning. I never spent any time sitting on a stand again. I really liked sneaking through the woods, spotting the game before it saw me.

A year or two before, in the same area, my dad was on a stand and had built a small fire. A hunter walked through and stopped by the fire to get warmed up. While he was standing there, a doe came by, and before dad could get off a shot, this guy lifts up and shoots at it and missed. After checking to be sure he missed, he came back to dad's fire and said "I sure blew that one!." He then proceeds to kneel down to warm his hands by the fire! After a moment my dad looked at him and said something to the effect of "If you want this spot I can leave." The guy said, "Oh no that's OK", and walked off into the woods.

[Old Time Hunter]

Ok...the act actually was instigated in the field, but the culmination of the act was discovered in a more public place.

Many, many moons ago...probably back in '68 or '69 right at the beginning of the Wisconsin gun deer hunting season, when my father and his cohorts were all still alive and in their prime this event tattooed an unmovable memory into my brain.

As always the deer hunting season was the pinnacle of the year for me, the anticipation would build much greater than for any other yearly event, including Christmas. So with this heightened sense of every hour, every minute, and yes, every second was memorable. Can remember that opening day as vividly as if it was yesterday, the slight bite of the wind, the dawn streaking through the slate grey tentacles of clouds streaking from a dusty light, morphing into reddish streams, and then the golden rays of the breaking morn.

The knowledge that all of the hunting party was experiencing the same thing, brought an intensified competitive spirit in me. Heck, my Dad and his cronies had much more experience than I did and due to their seniority had better spots than I did. Therefore, Dad, Jim, Chuck, and Benny went to the good high spots, while Brian, David, Tom, and the rest of us scattered through the valleys and swamps. That was ok, and all was good, even though there seemed to be very little amount of gun fire as the first hour of opening rolled into the second.

Unfortunately, there was not much movement and did not hear one whistle that announced success from our party. So we spent the entire day in the woods, where as if some had success, most would filter back to camp at some time during the day to offer congratulations, eat some slop, and then revel in self pity of why it was not me that got the big buck. So as the end of the day came with the dusk, we all started to make our back to the cabin. Just as four of us made the turn at the "Y" on the fire lane, a small herd of deer broke in front of us...a huge buck at the tail of four or five good size doe.

They went by so fast that no one had the chance to raise their gun. But the elation of so many deer in one spot, lifted all our spirits for the anticipation of tomorrow and gave the "old" men something to brag about later when we went to the customary watering hole. That made our day!

After securing the camp, we all piled into the old Carry All (there were eleven of us and we all did not fit in a standard car) and off to the local bar we went. Not even a half of a mile down the road from the camp, some one made the observation that we had an inordinate amount of stench in the vehicle. Did not know if it was whether one or more individuals dropped their gas at the same time or if it was that we were all still in our hunting clothes with a combination of doe scent spread on them. Or was it a combination of both? All I know it was the subject of conversation until we made it to "The Rock", a dilapidated old establishment half built on a huge boulder overlooking a fast rushing river. The place did not even have indoor bathrooms...at least not one for the patrons. We had to use the "outhouse". Guess it was better than the shack, cause all of us took our turns in it...except noticeably...Benny. Benny not using it was the exception because normally he was the first and took the longest making everyone else uncomfortable, he relished in hoarding the commode and usually gloated about his ability to share his odorous result. Surprisingly then we all had done our duties and managed to secure our place at the bar before the place filled to overflowing.

But...the smell from the Carry All was still there...and was now filling the tavern. It was so strong, it almost took away my appetite...almost. And as other patrons filled the place, it was obvious from the twitching of the nostrils that the odor was noticed. Even as the libations were consumed amongst the hearty hunters, thinking it would dull the senses, did nothing to quell the complaints of the smell. Some started to move around the crowd to identify the culprit.

One burly gent, zeroed in on Benny. His nostrils flaring as he circled him. The guy then made a loud accusatory statement that Benny stunk. Benny came back at him and said "everyone" stunk and get out of his face. The situation escalated, beer muscles and all, and there was some finger pointing that soon became a shove from one and then a retaliation shove. The old men of our group immediately circled the wagons to defend Benny. But Benny held them back with a hand, saying he could handle it. Then turned to his accuser and challenged the guy to step outside and settle this.

To the chagrin of my Dad, the guy accepted. Dad tried to defuse the situation and said we all should leave, but neither Benny or the guy seemed to hear. There was going to be a fight!

The outside temperature was hovering around 10'F with a whistling wind, and since the old bar did not have much of a climate control system, it necessitated keeping on full weather gear even inside.

The accuser zippered up his coat three quarters of the way....and Benny flipped his hood up.

Flying out of Benny's hood came a snowball size of brown, yech stuff...hitting the guy just below his neck, then slithering down inside the front of the gent's three-quarter closed coat. We found the source of the stench!

See, Benny's preferred hunting gear was hooded coveralls and apparently during the day he had to relieve himself and he did it over a log. He must of pulled his coveralls down and his hood somehow became the target of his defecation...he carried it all day in his hood!!!

As mad as the accuser was, he was no match for the fifty or so patrons, some of which were now rolling on the floor in uncontrolled laughter.

[Pete44ru]

.

In the early 70's, on my state's opening day of the December 1-week shotgun (only) deer season, my friend & I exited the snowy woods about 10AM, and were signing out of the game management area (A state requirement back then) @ the warden/check station beside the paved road/numbered route that bisected that management area.

Across the paved road, and uphill from the check station's dirt parking lot, was a 2-acre field abutting the road & surrounded by the woods there.

Next to, and slightly downhill from, the check station was a small roadside field, across the road from the larger field.

My friend & I were in the parking lot with the Game Warden, shooting the breeze, when two Jeep Cherokee's, filled with orange-clad hunters, drove into the check station's lot so the hunters could sign in to the area.
There were 8 New Americans (immigrants) in the two vehicles, who signed in, and immediately walked across the road to the larger field - where (while the 3 of us watched) they proceeded to space themselves all aroung the field's perimeter, facing into the woods with their backs to the field, apparently awaiting a deer's appearance.

Shortly after the Italian Army reached their hunting positions, two other hunters emerged from the woods about 50 yards downhill from us, on the check station's side of the road.

While the warden & us were watching the two new participants, one of them suddenly shouldered his gun (which turned out later to be a new Remington 1100 Slug Gun) and took a shot at a doe deer they had inadvertantly pushed across the road ahead of them, into the small field next to the check station - which deer immediately entered the larger field from the road she had just crossed.

(It was then against the law to shoot across or within 100yds of a paved road, since extended..... )

I happened to have my eyes on the shooter when he shot, and saw the barrel of his M1100 bend radically downward at the shot - It later turned out that there had been some packed snow in the muzzle, acquired when he was transversing the woods sometime that morning, turning the muzzle end of the barrel into a banana peel.

Anyway, the sound of the shot (naturally) attracted the attention of the Italian Army stationed around the edges of the field across the road, that now contained a frightened doe deer - which proceed to run L-R across the field.

Now, the fun really began........................

One at a time, as the deer ran by them, each of the 8 intrepid deerslayers took & missed at least one shot at the hapless doe - who finally exited the field (unharmed), running into the woods at the end of the field.

Less than a minute later, a single shot was heard, coming from the woods the doe had scampered into - It turned out that some fella, who had been sitting in there since sunrise, actually shot the moving target.

The guy with the trashed M1100 soon asked the game warden for directions to the nearest bar, with a distressed look on his face, muttering how the muzzle of his gun was looking at him at the shot.

The Italian Army, having missed their great chance, piled into their vehicles, and left.

The warden declined to cite the idiot who shot across the paved road (on which vehicles were passing), because he thought the loss of his M1100 was enough.


That's my story - and I'm stickin' to it.


.

[Mescalero]

You gotta love Rhode Island

[jkbrea]

Two years ago I was elk hunting on the refuge in Jackson Wyoming. It was cows only. I saw a large herd cross into the archery/blackpowder only area. There were a couple hunters there. I figured if they shot at an elk, the rest of the herd would turn and run as far as the highway and turn north because of the elk fence along the highway. That would lead them to a drop off across a creek and then about 200 yards to safety across a river. I was about 1/2 mile away from where they would cross and they were moving fast about 1 1/2 miles away. I ran as fast as I could to head them off, slid down an embankment and crossed a freezing creek and set up. By then, about 1/4 of them made it across. Another hunter with the same idea was already set up and took a nice cow. This turned the herd right towards me and I shot one that was running by at a distance of about 10 yards. Some of the herd stopped when I shot and were looking around. Suddenly I hear a shot and a bullet hits high in the tree I'm behind. A couple more shots go through the tree. I dropped to the ground and started waiving my orange hat and yelling. I could not tell where the shots were coming from. I spent 30 years in LE and have never been this scared. Another shot hit the tree. I saw the guy about 500 yards away shooting. The elk were about 50 yards past me. I seriously thought for a second he was shooting at me and almost decided to take him out. I saw him start walking towards my direction. I went to start working on my elk and he came to about 100 yards away and stared, then walked off as if searching for an elk he may have hit. I think he thought my elk was his. He was a much older guy and I decided not to say anything. It was over and he would have denied it. A Game Warden showed up a few minutes later. She had talked to the first hunter that shot an elk just before me who was an off duty warden. He saw what happened and also said the other guy shot a bull, which is illegal. I pointed her in the direction of where the guy went and she caught up with him. On the way out with my elk, I found another cow that had been shot, probably by this fool. It was piled up near the creek. I called a friend that was hunting about 2 miles away and he tagged it.

[Mescalero]

Thats cool, she did not go to waste; and he got meat.

[Larkbill]

About ten years ago my youngest brother was cruising the back of our old home place, north of Rolla, Mo, it's mostly oak woods and he had planted a couple food plots to try to improve the hunting. Imagine his dismay to find an alien tree stand in the rear corner of the back forty right over one of his plots! On top of that there was also a big pile of shell corn right in the middle of his food plot.

He called the Operation Game Thief phone number and the next day a warden called him then came out to inspect things. He assured my brother that by calling he was immune from prosecution for having bait, and told him he could take down the expensive new stand and keep it as it was "abandoned" on his property. But, he hoped Dave would leave it all there and allow the warden to come out opening day and observe the area. Hell yes!

Opening morning the warden showed up two hours before dawn, my brother thought that was pretty gung ho considering the the type of critter they appeared to be dealing with, but happily helped the warden find a good place to observe and left him out there. Sure enough about 10 minutes before legal shooting time he smells cigar smoke and here comes a dude with two preteen boys in tow and all three are carrying giant packs full of supplies. The boys went in the double stand, climbing the ladder with LOADED guns slung on their backs, and pop settled below them on a folding lounge. Puffing his cigar the entire time. The warden watched for 1/2 hour as the boys unwrapped several snacks and threw the wrappers down. When he heard one of the boys ask Dad about taking a "sound shot" he decided that was enough and revealed himself.

The idiot actually tried to argue with the warden about his right to be there, but had no good explanation about why he had to climb the fence to get there. Then there was the pile of corn. He ended up writing them several tickets and confiscated their guns, then made them clean up every visible kernel of corn. My brother still has the stand and uses it every year.