Ok guys after reading about skunks on the critter post, I am just wondering what is some of the things that has happened to you or another while you were hunting? Let's hear them, I am up for a good laugh.
Mine:
One year I was hunting and had to drop immediately because a bird was coming in fast and not far away. When I dropped in the bushes, I sat on my foot wrong and it fell asleep without me knowing it. Minutes passed and I finally shot the bird and got up quickly to run over and put my boot on his head but when I stood up, my foot was numb and I fell flat on my face. I remember looking at that bird flopping as I laid there on the ground just stunned and numb. I had a huge bruise on my left cheek bone for days and my buddies got a good laugh out of it.
As for the skunks, I had my nephew out in the am and we were about 100 yards away from a pair of gobblers that I had roosted the night before and had just gotten sat down when he said "uncle nick there is a skunk". I told him to be quiet and he said it again because it was getting closer. Again I said be quiet because I didn't want him to spook the birds. After about three of these exchanges, he jumped over me and took off into the woods away from the skunk. Before I put it together, the skunk began to spray everywhere so I followed his lead but the whole area smelled so bad. To make matters worse, both birds flew off the roost due to all the racket and my nephew was like " what was that noise" and I just had to laugh as I told him that it was the gobblers that I had roosted for him the night before saying "so long you stinky fools".
Ok I'll participate in this one. :funnyturkey:
A good while back...... I Once shot a good Tom he was about 30 yards out. He goes down like a ton of bricks.,I mean not a flop. So now I'm taking my time. I put it on safe,unload the gun. Lean it up against the tree. I get up and start to walk over to my bird (leaving the gun behind) Now I'm about 3/4 of the way to collect my prize. Then it happens, he jumps up! And he starts bookin! And now I'm bookin after him, in a last ditch effort I make diving tackle to subdue the beast. I'm able to latch on to one leg as he's spurring me with the other. Beating the snot outta me with his wings. Feathers were every where. Even my mouth. I wasn't letting go.
Big mistake... The gun comes with me from now on. Lolol! :newmascot:
I was out on one of my baton death marches and a gobbler strikes hard from not far away, I am scrambling to get set up. Found a good tree and down I go.
He is hitting most any call but not budging, seductive purrs, gobble-obble-obble!! Gobble-obble-obble!! I can just see where I imagine he is gonna pop his head up. Purrrrrrrrrrr, gobble-obble, gobble-obble-obble!! I thought "man is he fired up but must have hens with him" I keep getting him more excited, Gobble-obble! Gobble-OBBLE-OBBLE! He is gobbling his head off and I am pouring it on.
Another hour passes and I am like, WTF, then it hits me, he wants the silent hen treatment thinking she is leaving. I make some calls like a hen tired of this crap, GOBBLE-OBBLE-OBBLE!! Sheesh.....
I flop my butt back down ready to wait him out gun in hand and no call.... a good 45 minutes pass and he's gobbling but a little more sporadic, I am still waiting but noon was coming. Again, WTF.....
Noon came, hunting done for the day. Gotta take a peek....
I belly crawl about 50 yds towards the gobbler, scratching leaves as I go like a real hen would feeding.
Started inching my head up, straining my eyes looking for him over the bench that had kept me from seeing him. Then I saw the most humiliating thing...... the roof of a camp and a Jake in a pen, still strutting!! I had to laugh at myself over this hunt!! The walk back to the truck was a long one.
Denny
My buddy and I set up about 100 yds from a single roosted Tom. My friend wanted to video rather than shoot so he set up a few yards from me ,further from the tom.
After he flew down I got him to about 40 yds an he hung up so I took the shot.
He's flopping on the ground like mad and I get up quickly and start running towards the tom not realizing one leg had gone to sleep.....my buddy got great video of the hunt and me doing a faceplant with my gun.
Very embarrassing.
Quote from: Mike Honcho on February 06, 2016, 11:55:49 AM
My buddy and I set up about 100 yds from a single roosted Tom. My friend wanted to video rather than shoot so he set up a few yards from me ,further from the tom.
After he flew down I got him to about 40 yds an he hung up so I took the shot.
He's flopping on the ground like mad and I get up quickly and start running towards the tom not realizing one leg had gone to sleep.....my buddy got great video of the hunt and me doing a faceplant with my gun.
Very embarrassing.
Glad I am not the only one this happened to but at least no one witnessed it...
Mine was a comprehensive study of comical errors. A buddy and I took out one morning to hunt some public land. He gave me one of his new 3" turkey shells and I found out that it would actually load into my shotgun chambered for 2 3/4" shells. How about that! Off we go.
Directly we hear one open up down through the woods and we ease in that direction. We sneak along and spot a large field through the trees. We ease up to the edge and spot him with his harem on the far side of this large field. We sit down at adjacent trees and start calling. He is so far away that we can see him stretch out to gobble and the sound would reach us a few seconds later. After a while we could see that the hens were heading towards us with Romeo bringing up the rear. About 30 minutes later my buddy says that his legs were killing him. For some unfathomable reason, he had decided to squat down next to his tree instead of sitting. With the birds coming in, he was stuck with hunkering there in agony. Eventually, the hens came right in to us and one finally made us at 5 yards and started putting. Romeo was still a ways out there, but we had to get this show on the road and right now. We both shot at R at the same time and flipped him over backwards. He was still with the living and riding the invisible bicycle out there. I tried to shuck in another shell and discovered that 3" shells will go into 2 3/4" guns, but they won't come out. I jumped up and tried running out to him but my feet were asleep as well. I switched over to the one-foot pogo hop and started closing the gap to him, not certain of what I was going to do when I got to him. As I am bouncing out to him, he flips over onto his feet and starts to stand up. I grab my shotgun by the barrel and give him the 12 wood swing like it's a par 5 tee shot at Augusta. I connected with his blue part and drove his head, beak first, into the dirt. One more bunny hop and I had a boot on his head.
I grabbed his legs and he started flopping proper, beating me like I was a rented mule. Didn't matter, I had him. I carried him back over to my buddy. We looked him over, high fived several times when he stopped, looked down and said, "Man, look at your gun."
The stock of my beloved Ithaca Model 37 was splintered almost into two pieces. Doh. Later, when I ate the flesh of this horny, hard-headed Romeo, I did so with an appreciation of his final act of defiance.
FC
Only went to Missouri one time and I remember one now funny thing Very Vividly. Near Ft Leonard Wood maybe 12 yrs ago when we were working a hung up gobbler. Jet hit the sound barrier and I thought it was the end of the world. It also freaked the bird out and he broke strut and ran right towards my buddy. It was the end of the world for him. :OGturkeyhead:
Got out a little late one morning and hit one of my favorite publication land spots. A truck was parked there so I just sat and waited. At about ten three guys came out of the woods and I jumped out of my truck and started grabbing my gear. I asked how their morning went and all they had heard was a few roost gobbles. Heading into the woods I went about a mile and hit one of my favorite ridges. The very first set of yelps got a gobble and I booked to the nearest decent sized tree and set up. There was a sapling to my right and I snipped a few branches in case I had to swing the gun that way. The next set of calls brought another gobble and a few second later I could see a fan cresting the ridge. Four Tom's and a hen approached and they were angling to my right. I was nailed down and that hen was looking hard. By telephone time they were in to 30 yards they were almost 90 degrees to my right. It was now or never so in one quick move I swung the gun one handed , laying the barrel on one of those clipped branches and as soon as the dot landed on the closest and very alert Tom's neck I touched off the old mossy stoked with 3.5" mags. I felt that one! I ran up to the flopping tom and when I was standing on his neck I spit out my mouth call. I am not sure who was bleeding worse, me or the tom. When I got to the truck I looked in the mirror and fellows I looked like I had been punched in the mouth by Mike tyson. Both lips were busted and had a nice bruise forming under my lip. So fellows if you have ever get caught in a pickle like that make sure you want him really bad.
Sent from my SM-G800R4 using Tapatalk
About 4 years ago, a buddy and I hunted together several times in an area we found together. He is bad about never using a light in the dark but this morning was a full moon or nearly so and we could see to walk easily. Anyway, about a half in; "B" locks up because he realized "something" was in the logging road in front of us about 8 feet high. No idea what but we had been in there a bunch. He flips a light on to see what was there. What it was turned out to be a pine tree that had bent over for some reason. Kind of like they do after an ice storm. Kind of looked like Bigfoot in the dawn light! It's a good thing a rabbit didn't jump up and run off before we realized what it was! Probably would have given him a heart attack...as well as dirty underwear!
I sat up on a logging road after striking a mid day bird. I was sitting in a gobbler lounger and tucked in tight waiting on him to strut around the curve 20 yards away. I had the 1187 on my knee and the safty off. As you would figure , he went silent. Ended up swinging wide right through a thicket. I caught a glimpse of him at about 30 yards. He went behind a big oak and I switched the gun to my left shoulder and put it in a basketball size opening he was headed for. The switch went smooth and the bird stepped in the opening and stopped. The pro diamond scope reticle was on his wattles and I squeezed the trigger. The bird flopped and I saw black. When I came to my senses , I layed there and the bird was stone dead. I had a cut on the bridge of my nose about 3 inches long and it bled pretty good. I learned when switching shoulders to shoot 3-1/2 turkey loads , keep your face back off the scope. It was a sight with me and the bird laying 30 yards apart , both on our backs and bleeding.
Was hunting a Wisconsin "Spring" morning snowstorm, decided to go in with a portable blind to keep out of the weather a bit and I got myself situated, about a hour of no birds all of a sudden WHAP, the snow was too heavy and popped the roof of the blind down and squarely on the top of my head, knocked me right of the tri-stool. LOL
MK M GOBL
I've had a hard time picking one, but I guess I'll go with the chip monk "episode" last spring. I was sitting on the ground with my back to a tree watching some birds out about a hundred yards in a field. They had me pinned down and I'd been sitting there for probably two hours.
During that time a chip monk was making trip after trip by me at just a couple feet. Once as he passed by, he decided to jump up on the toe of my boot which was pointed straight up, for a look around. I was enjoying the show, when a bird gobbled out in the field. I turned my head slowly to look at the birds, and when I did it scared the chip monk. Instead of jumping off my boot and running away, he opted to dive into the "hole" between my boot and my pant leg.
I've always thought chip monks were cute little buggers and I'm certainly not afraid of them, but the sight of it disappearing up my pant leg caused me to forget about the turkeys for a minute. I won't go into details for fear of being laughed of the forum, but in the short time it took me and the chip monk to part company, I spooked the birds and probably every other critter within a quarter mile. ;D
Bob
Quote from: OldSchool on February 07, 2016, 10:05:32 AM
I've had a hard time picking one, but I guess I'll go with the chip monk "episode" last spring. I was sitting on the ground with my back to a tree watching some birds out about a hundred yards in a field. They had me pinned down and I'd been sitting there for probably two hours.
During that time a chip monk was making trip after trip by me at just a couple feet. Once as he passed by, he decided to jump up on the toe of my boot which was pointed straight up, for a look around. I was enjoying the show, when a bird gobbled out in the field. I turned my head slowly to look at the birds, and when I did it scared the chip monk. Instead of jumping off my boot and running away, he opted to dive into the "hole" between my boot and my pant leg.
I've always thought chip monks were cute little buggers and I'm certainly not afraid of them, but the sight of it disappearing up my pant leg caused me to forget about the turkeys for a minute. I won't go into details for fear of being laughed of the forum, but in the short time it took me and the chip monk to part company, I spooked the birds and probably every other critter within a quarter mile. ;D
Bob
If only you filmed your hunts, that would have been a great video I'm sure !!!
My funniest encounter was on a hunt on a new farm a buddy and I had just acquired. We were walking around learning the place when we heard a bird gobble. We proceeded to get closer and set up on him. After a few minutes of silence, we heard what sounded like a tree fall and roll. Next thing we knew, our gobbler flew off a ridge to our east side. A few minutes later, a large dog came running into the field we were watching and started straight toward us. We were in full camo and crouched down when the dog got to within 5 feet of us. We both raised up as the dog got upon us and hollered. That dog turned and ran at nearly a hundred miles an hour and covered 300 yards in no time. He finally stopped and looked back and barked and retreated away even faster this time. My buddy and I laid there laughing for the next 1/2 hour before resuming our hunt.
All on one 3 day hunt I fell in the crerk, fell off a log into greenbriers, got into a fire ant den, and all in front of other people who got to laugh.
Quote from: tomstopper on February 06, 2016, 12:00:17 PM
Quote from: Mike Honcho on February 06, 2016, 11:55:49 AM
My buddy and I set up about 100 yds from a single roosted Tom. My friend wanted to video rather than shoot so he set up a few yards from me ,further from the tom.
After he flew down I got him to about 40 yds an he hung up so I took the shot.
He's flopping on the ground like mad and I get up quickly and start running towards the tom not realizing one leg had gone to sleep.....my buddy got great video of the hunt and me doing a faceplant with my gun.
Very embarrassing.
Glad I am not the only one this happened to but at least no one witnessed it...
I'll admit to this one too!
I also was walking down a 2-track one morning by moonlight to setup in a pasture before fly down and crashed in the middle of the road. I was moving at a good pace, and had a blind, decoys and shotgun all slung over my shoulders. I stepped in a wash and everything went flying. It was one of those times when you realize your going down and there's nothing you can do but watch it happen. It wouldn't have been so bad if I wasn't on my families property, and I didn't the wash was there.
Quote from: OldSchool on February 07, 2016, 10:05:32 AM
I've had a hard time picking one, but I guess I'll go with the chip monk "episode" last spring. I was sitting on the ground with my back to a tree watching some birds out about a hundred yards in a field. They had me pinned down and I'd been sitting there for probably two hours.
During that time a chip monk was making trip after trip by me at just a couple feet. Once as he passed by, he decided to jump up on the toe of my boot which was pointed straight up, for a look around. I was enjoying the show, when a bird gobbled out in the field. I turned my head slowly to look at the birds, and when I did it scared the chip monk. Instead of jumping off my boot and running away, he opted to dive into the "hole" between my boot and my pant leg.
I've always thought chip monks were cute little buggers and I'm certainly not afraid of them, but the sight of it disappearing up my pant leg caused me to forget about the turkeys for a minute. I won't go into details for fear of being laughed of the forum, but in the short time it took me and the chip monk to part company, I spooked the birds and probably every other critter within a quarter mile. ;D
Bob
:TooFunny: :TooFunny: :TooFunny: Lol! :z-winnersmiley:
The year was somewhere around 1994, I can't remember exactly. I was living in Bienville Parish, LA near where the Bonnie and Clyde ambush occured. My best friend and I had discovered a new lake that was being constructed somewhere near Coushatta. It was choke full of duck food and was slowly filling up. The best part--- it was largely undiscovered by other duck hunters.
On this particular morning, I would be taking my young black lab pup out on her first ever duck hunt. We had been training in the off season, and I had high hopes and expectations. Now my friend, Shane, takes crudeness and vulgarity to Olympic levels of performance. He finds it totally appropriate to openly discuss topics which most mentally stable folks wouldn't even allow to enter their minds. I have yet to ever have a female acquaintance that was not totally reviled by him. He is a great friend. The topic of discussion during the last 30 minutes of the drive--yes for 30 full minutes--was centered around how bad he needed to take a dump. He discussed every item in detail that the had consumed in the past 24 hours and how each one of those items were interacting with the other in his lower GI tract. It was quite the discertation on health and nutrition and nasty all rolled into one conversation.
When we arrived at our destination, Shane proudly announced he was going to take care of some business and would be back shortly, approximately five pounds lighter. He dissappeared into the tall grass surrounding the lake in the pre-dawn darkness. I got out of the truck, pulled on my waders and began making preparations for the hunt. I let down the tailgate and opened up the kennel. Little did I know at the time, but this simple action would seal our fate for the morning. The pup responded as any pup would. She was happy to be out of the kennel and was excited to be in a new place. She did a couple victory laps around the truck and then disappeared into the darkness. I began getting decoys together, oblivious to the pandomonium that was about to ensue.
Shane would recount the story later, but lets just suffice it to say that there is no more vulnerable position to find oneself in a hunting situation than to have ones' pants around ones' ankles fully engaged in a biological process and then hear an unidentified, presumably wild animal, running towards you through the tall grass in the total darkness. I have no doubt that he would have shot the pup if he would have had his shotgun. The pup stopped a few feet short and growled at him, which did little to relieve his anxiety, and then proceeded to barrel into him, knocking him over and nearly into the pile on the ground. Not to be denied, the pup then did what labs are famous for---She dropped and began to roll in the fresh excrement!!
Back at the truck, I quickly became aware that an epic battle of some sort was taking place in the direction my hunting buddy had dissapeared to a few moments earlier. The first noises were not necessarily discernible as human, but as he gained his composure, I was able to make out, "Brad, get your *&^% Dog!!!!".
I complied with his request and all the pre-season training paid off--much to my chagrin--as the still hyper puppy began bounding in my direction. I had my head lamp on and could see some foreign matter on the dog, and as she came closer, my suspicions were confirmed as an indescribable putrid odor filled the air. The pup is still headed my way and is in a playful mood. I try to avoid the dog and begin running away from her. I forgot all about the commands sit, stay, and heel and totally panicked. The pup, I am sure, interpreted all of this as "Dad wants to play a new game!!" as she continued to try and jump up on me.
Shane emerged from the grass at this point and the pup granted me a reprieve and headed in his direction and then back towards me. I momentarily thought about shooting her. I can only imagine how comical the scene would have been if it would have been videotaped.
I somewhat gathered my wits and headed off into the water and grabbed several handfulls of grass and dunked the dog under as she swam towards me. After a while of wiping her clean and dry heaving, we were a little late getting set up, but managed to survive the ordeal with only slight mental scarring.
As it turned out, it became one of the most memorable duck hunts I have ever had. We quickly took limits, including a canvasback and a redhead taken in the same day, and the pup proved herself and would become one of the best dogs I have ever hunted over.
I'll keep this short. 2002 my granddad and I (he was 74 I was 17) were working 2 birds into gun range. this was his 1st turkey hunt. he was avid outdoorsman but never turkey hunted. the birds got within 100 yards and were coming. he said "Son I got to go" I said "Now?" he said "YES!" I said "you cant they are coming and about to pop out". he said when your 74 and you got to go .... you got to go now". he proceeded to pass his breakfast one tree over!! :) birds were gobbling the entire time! he finished... sat back down. 5 minutes later they popped up in the road and we killed them. wow what an event... I still laugh about it
Hooksfan has taken the lead :TooFunny:
My wife and I were both in tears as I read this to her. Thanks for that one !!!
Quote from: born2hunt on February 08, 2016, 09:40:57 PM
Hooksfan has taken the lead :TooFunny:
My wife and I were both in tears as I read this to her. Thanks for that one !!!
I agree. I would have lost my mind and my buddy would have been bathing my pup for a long time. Keep these coming guys, I know there are more out there....lol
I've deer hunted my whole life but didn't start turkey hunting till I was 18. My second season I was fortunate enough to take my 1st gobbler. I shot it, took off running down there when i go to pick it up it's not dead so I panic. I'm thinking I don't want to shoot it again and tear it all to pieces so out of the corner of my eye i see a pretty good sized stick and proceeded to club him till he quit moving. I didn't know to just step on its head, my buddies still won't let me live that down. Then a few years ago I walked down an old skidder path to the edge of a greenfield surrounded by 16'-18' tall pines and a big hardwood hollow on the back side of it. So before I go across this field I decide I'm gonna give a couple of owl hoots to see if there is any active birds close by. Unbeknownst to me these 2 owls are on each side of me and when I step out in the field they fly down across my head I had to hit the deck to keep from getting hit in the head. Earlier that same year while fishing on wheeler with my dad I took a seagull to the head while running down the lake. That was a bad year for me and birds.
Funniest thing I ever saw in my life was me and my dad were in the most mosquito infested swamp and my dad whips out a bottle of what he thought was mosquito repellant and starts rubbing it generously all over his face....runs out it was FOX PEE cover scent , omg!!! You had to be there !!!!! The reaction he gave was classic , I heard some all new curse words I didn't even think existed --damn I miss that guy , every time I need a laugh I think of that
Quote from: Old Gobbler on February 09, 2016, 07:42:31 AM
Funniest thing I ever saw in my life was me and my dad were in the most mosquito infested swamp and my dad whips out a bottle of what he thought was mosquito repellant and starts rubbing it generously all over his face....runs out it was FOX PEE cover scent , omg!!! You had to be there !!!!! The reaction he gave was classic , I heard some all new curse words I didn't even think existed --damn I miss that guy , every time I need a laugh I think of that
that is hilarious. You sure you didn't put the fox pee in the mosquito repellant bottle for your own amusement :-)
Quote from: Old Gobbler on February 09, 2016, 07:42:31 AM
Funniest thing I ever saw in my life was me and my dad were in the most mosquito infested swamp and my dad whips out a bottle of what he thought was mosquito repellant and starts rubbing it generously all over his face....runs out it was FOX PEE cover scent , omg!!! You had to be there !!!!! The reaction he gave was classic , I heard some all new curse words I didn't even think existed --damn I miss that guy , every time I need a laugh I think of that
That's awesome. I would have been rolling on the ground laughing. Its awesome that you have that memory to look back on though with you dad even though it wasn't to pleasurable for him at the time...lol
This one is kinda funny - now.
Nephew and I had limited number of days left to hunt before the season went out and both of us had one bird left. The weather forecast was UGLY. Rain, high winds, tornado watch. No lightning though. We said, we are men, lets go. We met up and drove in, rain pelting the truck as we got there a little early and just sat until time to head in. I say, is that hail? Umm, no it was pine needles and debris pelting the windshield! Sounded like hail. I have killed birds on nasty days, and we were not to be deterred. We get out and start easing our way in. I am a little hard of hearing and he stops and asks "what is that noise?" I hear it and say it is a train. Then I realize the train track is north and this sound is south of us! Ooops. We are close to a low lying area and we both decide that we don't want to see flying cows and head to that spot at a trot. We get there and the roar moves off (not F5 crazy, but in the dark, no visual and just the noise, two grown men were a wee bit skeered-although we both like to tell it like it was no big deal). We say, to heck with it, the drive home would be more dangerous and go hunting. I set up where I had played with a gobbler a week earlier and we take our seats. The wind is still howling, but the rain has let off. At daylight, I see movement coming from the roost and this is the God's honest truth. We see a Tom and jake working their way to us through the thinned pines. At a little over 100 yards, the Tom is gobbling, looking right our way and we can see him gobble and can't hear a thing other than the wind. We WATCH him gobble like 4-5 times and never hear a thing. They head straight to us. Of course the jake passes by at 35 yards, but the gobbler stays just out of range. Forget scratching leaves, he is going to pass us by - both guns leveled at his head. I start calling and am still not sure if he could not hear us, or just did not care. He walks right on past and never got any closer than 50 yards, at best. He headed right for the low spot we had let the "heavy wind" pass us by while hunkering down like chirren scared of the boogeyman. We call it the "tornado hunt" and I think not taking the shot made a better memory than had we killed the jake, which neither of us even considered without saying a word.
The next hunt, we drove over to the where we heard the sound of the train and could see a few snapped off trees in a line. Dummies.
These are great, and why is it the best stories always involve crap. I guess we'll always be teenagers.
I'll add a crap story to the mix. A friend and I were hunting the mountains of PA. We drove my truck to the top of a ridge and set out to a small spur that usually held a bird, and it did this morning. It was still well before fly down time, and my buddy has to go. I thought I had all my bases covered by reminding him to be as quiet as he could, go away from the bird and for god's sake, stay down wind.
Well this bird kept hammering harder and harder and he must have gotten in a hurry. Before I knew it, he was back beside me on the same tree, gun up and at the ready. As we worked this bird I would assume that had hens, he kept asking me "Did you fart? I smell " After a couple episodes of this, we made a move and ended up bumping in to a black bear with a cub, which in and of itself was a pretty funny story. They can be quite protective, so things were very tense until they trotted away, and as always right towards the gobbling bird shutting him down. In the midst of the hunt, my buddy crossed over to being up wind of me and the reason for his question became more apparent. He was smelling himself. In his pre-dawn rush, he had dropped his coveralls and not taken the time to "clear the landing zone" and proceeded to lay a steaming pile in the back of his suit. When he finished processing the paperwork (which were included in the nice package), he pulled up his coveralls, zipped them up and went on about his merry way, newly formed heap and all. We got back to the truck and he took off his camo, and there it was in all its glory dripping off his back, TP, corn and all (why is it there's ALWAYS corn in it, and would this have constituted hunting over bait?)
I made him ride down the mountain in the bed of the truck. He stayed mad at me for quite a while over that, but there was NO WAY he was bringing his sewage covered self into my truck cab.
Quote from: chcltlabz on February 09, 2016, 01:30:54 PM
These are great, and why is it the best stories always involve crap. I guess we'll always be teenagers.
I'll add a crap story to the mix. A friend and I were hunting the mountains of PA. We drove my truck to the top of a ridge and set out to a small spur that usually held a bird, and it did this morning. It was still well before fly down time, and my buddy has to go. I thought I had all my bases covered by reminding him to be as quiet as he could, go away from the bird and for god's sake, stay down wind.
Well this bird kept hammering harder and harder and he must have gotten in a hurry. Before I knew it, he was back beside me on the same tree, gun up and at the ready. As we worked this bird I would assume that had hens, he kept asking me "Did you fart? I smell " After a couple episodes of this, we made a move and ended up bumping in to a black bear with a cub, which in and of itself was a pretty funny story. They can be quite protective, so things were very tense until they trotted away, and as always right towards the gobbling bird shutting him down. In the midst of the hunt, my buddy crossed over to being up wind of me and the reason for his question became more apparent. He was smelling himself. In his pre-dawn rush, he had dropped his coveralls and not taken the time to "clear the landing zone" and proceeded to lay a steaming pile in the back of his suit. When he finished processing the paperwork (which were included in the nice package), he pulled up his coveralls, zipped them up and went on about his merry way, newly formed heap and all. We got back to the truck and he took off his camo, and there it was in all its glory dripping off his back, TP, corn and all (why is it there's ALWAYS corn in it, and would this have constituted hunting over bait?)
I made him ride down the mountain in the bed of the truck. He stayed mad at me for quite a while over that, but there was NO WAY he was bringing his sewage covered self into my truck cab.
I don't blame you. After having kids, I always keep a package of Baby Wipes in my truck. If you had these, he could have at least wiped himself clean and rode off the mountain in his birthday suit (which I am sure would have spun another funny moment). :TooFunny: :TooFunny:
Quote from: born2hunt on February 08, 2016, 09:40:57 PM
Hooksfan has taken the lead :TooFunny:
My wife and I were both in tears as I read this to her. Thanks for that one !!!
Ohh Yea! :TooFunny:
Mom always said stepping in #2 was lucky. Never mind falling and rolling in it. Lol! Great hunt!
Hooksfan - :TooFunny: :TooFunny: :TooFunny:
I feel as if I was standing there watching! That was great!!!
Quote from: chcltlabz on February 09, 2016, 01:30:54 PM
These are great, and why is it the best stories always involve crap. I guess we'll always be teenagers.
I'll add a crap story to the mix. A friend and I were hunting the mountains of PA. We drove my truck to the top of a ridge and set out to a small spur that usually held a bird, and it did this morning. It was still well before fly down time, and my buddy has to go. I thought I had all my bases covered by reminding him to be as quiet as he could, go away from the bird and for god's sake, stay down wind.
Well this bird kept hammering harder and harder and he must have gotten in a hurry. Before I knew it, he was back beside me on the same tree, gun up and at the ready. As we worked this bird I would assume that had hens, he kept asking me "Did you fart? I smell " After a couple episodes of this, we made a move and ended up bumping in to a black bear with a cub, which in and of itself was a pretty funny story. They can be quite protective, so things were very tense until they trotted away, and as always right towards the gobbling bird shutting him down. In the midst of the hunt, my buddy crossed over to being up wind of me and the reason for his question became more apparent. He was smelling himself. In his pre-dawn rush, he had dropped his coveralls and not taken the time to "clear the landing zone" and proceeded to lay a steaming pile in the back of his suit. When he finished processing the paperwork (which were included in the nice package), he pulled up his coveralls, zipped them up and went on about his merry way, newly formed heap and all. We got back to the truck and he took off his camo, and there it was in all its glory dripping off his back, TP, corn and all (why is it there's ALWAYS corn in it, and would this have constituted hunting over bait?)
I made him ride down the mountain in the bed of the truck. He stayed mad at me for quite a while over that, but there was NO WAY he was bringing his sewage covered self into my truck cab.
I had a cousin do almost the same thing. He came out of the bushes missing the rear bib of his overalls. He said when he realized what he had done he just cut them off with his knife and left em laying right there.
This is a great thread Nick. :icon_thumright: I haven't laughed as hard as I have reading some of these stories in a long time. :TooFunny:
Bob
I tried reading some of these last night while I watched my 7 year old's karate class, but couldn't do it. I finally just had to quit reading until I could get home and laugh my head off. Great stories!!!
I was hunting on a logging road in some very swampy bottomlands in eastern NC a few years ago. I was walking down the road trying to strike a gobble... finally got a bird to sound off so I sat against a tree. After only a few minutes of sitting, out of no where I felt a heavy thump in my lap. I looked down and a half eaten bull frog was sitting in my crouch. I looked up and an osprey was circling back around in search of its meal that it just dropped. All the commotion ended up getting me busted by the tom that had closed in fast.
I was walking into the woods during pre-dawn light with a buddy of mine. He's killed numerous birds on this particular piece of ground. I'd asked him if he'd been up there to scout the place recently and he said that he'd not but had killed enough birds there to know where they'd be. And, knowing of his good fortune there in the past, I went along. As we neared the place he said, "they must have had some strong winds. Look at the tree tops laying here." I kept my mouth shut for what was about to happen. As it was breaking daylight and he was gathering his things to get started, all I heard was, "Well, @&$#!" I got a good hearted chuckle about it. You see, neither he nor I live close enough to the hunting club to scout it regularly. We just go up there and hunt it as we've done in the past. He'd hunted this place in the past without me as I could only get up there maybe twice a year. He knew the place well. When we'd go, he'd always have a plan drawn up before we'd get there and there was generally a level of success. Unfortunately, having talked to my buddy that lives and works in that area, I'd already had my suspicions that things could be bad. You see, the hunting club we belong to is owned by a timber company and managed by the club. The club has no say over what the timber company wants to do. As it broke daylight, the chunk of ground that my buddy had killed a bird on almost every year since he'd started hunting the place had been timbered. And I mean timbered. There were a total of 6 trees left on that entire chunk of land. The good news was that if a bird decided to gobble there, he'd have been real easy to locate. I couldn't help but chuckle a bit. To add salt to an open wound, he called a bird in not long after at a different location. Needless to say, that bird lived to see another day. It was all a bit disheartening at the time but looking back now, it's much easier to laugh at it.
Quote from: jtoliver43 on February 16, 2016, 10:34:48 PM
I was hunting on a logging road in some very swampy bottomlands in eastern NC a few years ago. I was walking down the road trying to strike a gobble... finally got a bird to sound off so I sat against a tree. After only a few minutes of sitting, out of no where I felt a heavy thump in my lap. I looked down and a half eaten bull frog was sitting in my crouch. I looked up and an osprey was circling back around in search of its meal that it just dropped. All the commotion ended up getting me busted by the tom that had closed in fast.
Never had that happen with an osprey, but while bowhunting I've had eagles drop fish in the woods around me. a 2 pound catfish makes a heck of a thump from 50 yards up. I'm glad they never hit me.
That reminds me of one funny goose hunting story though. We were hunting Alberta, and got on a great Cackler hunt one morning. We were getting close to a limit, so on the final toll, we all took one goose. I wanted a nice chocolate colored bird for a mount, so I picked one out in front of me and dumped him. It was one of those helicopter birds that was slowly spinning to the ground and I was watching him all the way down. I didn't even see the bird someone else shot as it landed in my lap, square on the goods. Knocked me clean out of the layout blind, and I laid there dry heaving, listening to everyone else laugh and laugh. Luckily it was the last hunt of the week, because I had trouble walking the rest of the day.
Though not funny at the time, I was hunting Kansas in the afternoon many years ago. I knew there were birds in the area, so sat up along the edge of a field and started doing some blind calling. Maybe an hour into the hunt, I see two toms coming in from my right, maybe a couple of hundred yards away. They were taking their time, but kept a steady pace as they approached the unseen "hen", as I had no decoy out. They would stop every so often and periscope, then start marching my way again.
I eased my gun up on my knee, keeping the sight on the lead bird. When he stopped and stuck his head up at what I thought was probably 35 yards or so, I squeezed off the shot and he went down like a ton of bricks. It was only upon standing up that I realized my error. Sitting there so long, I had lost all sense of distance, and when I stood up, the flopping bird, now with his head up and trying to regain his footing, looked like he was a football field away!
I took off running, and after closing the distance a bit, decided to throw some more lead his way, but when I pulled the trigger, nothing happened! I began running again and frantically worked the action on my 11-87 and stopped maybe 30 yards from the bird, which by now had begun to recover, took careful aim, and pulled the trigger only to hear a deafening "click". In the excitement of clearing the jam, I had inadvertently shucked the shells out into the pasture, now probably 40 or 50 yards behind me. No problem, just remain calm and poke another shell into the chamber and finish this. Right? Good plan, until I realized my extra shells were in my vest, which was lying on the ground way back yonder!
The turkey, had, by now, begun to lose all patience regarding these proceedings and was on his feet desperately trying to determine an exit strategy. I charged ahead, and began chasing him. Fortunately, he was injured enough he couldn't get up to full speed, and was running and flopping around in a big circle. After about 3 or 4 laps, I gained enough on him to whack him with the gun barrel, which stunned him just enough to get a foot on his neck. I have often wondered what someone passing by on the nearby road would have thought if they had witnessed the whole episode.
I learned two valuable lessons that day. One, stick out some range markers when setting up on a field, and, two, always carry an extra shell in your right pants pocket. You know, just in case.
This didn't actually happen on a hunt, but it is turkey related.
One day, my wife and I were at the local Home Big Box store. We went out and got in the car. I turned to her and said, "Honey, I'm a pretty good turkey caller." She said "You sure are." I said "Honey, I think I am a fantastic turkey caller." She said " You sure think so." I said "I believe that I can make any turkey gobble, as a matter of fact, I'm covinced that I can a man gobble," pointing at a random guy loading 2x4s into his truck in front of the store. She said " Really??"
I rolled the window down, pulled up next to him and yelped at him with my mouth. He broke into a triple gobble without hesitation. I waved, rolled up the window and pulled away. She ain't said nothing. When I finally turned and looked at her, her mouth was still hanging open. I said "Told you I was good."
It was Preston Pittman.
One morning had a buddy hear a gobble in a bottom and he goes to set up, so I move up hill and call. A tom gobbles at the top of the hill, sorry bud ow u are on your own, so I move in to the hill top and call to the hill gobbler. He gobbles good but not getting closer, I move up a little, call some more a d now he is gobbling moving back and forth not getting g closer, I try to reposition a d I see a light through the trees don't tell me, it can't be, yep there's a fence call a little and he gobbles behind the fence moving along its length back and forth dang tame turkey . I didn't know the area it was buds hunting. Lease
Quote from: FullChoke on February 18, 2016, 11:38:52 AM
This didn't actually happen on a hunt, but it is turkey related.
One day, my wife and I were at the local Home Big Box store. We went out and got in the car. I turned to her and said, "Honey, I'm a pretty good turkey caller." She said "You sure are." I said "Honey, I think I am a fantastic turkey caller." She said " You sure think so." I said "I believe that I can make any turkey gobble, as a matter of fact, I'm covinced that I can a man gobble," pointing at a random guy loading 2x4s into his truck in front of the store. She said " Really??"
I rolled the window down, pulled up next to him and yelped at him with my mouth. He broke into a triple gobble without hesitation. I waved, rolled up the window and pulled away. She ain't said nothing. When I finally turned and looked at her, her mouth was still hanging open. I said "Told you I was good."
It was Preston Pittman.
Right On! :toothy9:
Quote from: TrackeySauresRex on February 18, 2016, 01:05:47 PM
Quote from: FullChoke on February 18, 2016, 11:38:52 AM
This didn't actually happen on a hunt, but it is turkey related.
One day, my wife and I were at the local Home Big Box store. We went out and got in the car. I turned to her and said, "Honey, I'm a pretty good turkey caller." She said "You sure are." I said "Honey, I think I am a fantastic turkey caller." She said " You sure think so." I said "I believe that I can make any turkey gobble, as a matter of fact, I'm covinced that I can a man gobble," pointing at a random guy loading 2x4s into his truck in front of the store. She said " Really??"
I rolled the window down, pulled up next to him and yelped at him with my mouth. He broke into a triple gobble without hesitation. I waved, rolled up the window and pulled away. She ain't said nothing. When I finally turned and looked at her, her mouth was still hanging open. I said "Told you I was good."
It was Preston Pittman.
Right On! :toothy9:
:agreed: :icon_thumright:
My buddy set up to close to a bald Eagles nest and when the sun rose they started dive bombing his deeks. So he moved, fell asleep mid morning and awoke to the farmer spraying fert and dousing his deeks with a good coat!
Quote from: FullChoke on February 18, 2016, 11:38:52 AM
This didn't actually happen on a hunt, but it is turkey related.
One day, my wife and I were at the local Home Big Box store. We went out and got in the car. I turned to her and said, "Honey, I'm a pretty good turkey caller." She said "You sure are." I said "Honey, I think I am a fantastic turkey caller." She said " You sure think so." I said "I believe that I can make any turkey gobble, as a matter of fact, I'm covinced that I can a man gobble," pointing at a random guy loading 2x4s into his truck in front of the store. She said " Really??"
I rolled the window down, pulled up next to him and yelped at him with my mouth. He broke into a triple gobble without hesitation. I waved, rolled up the window and pulled away. She ain't said nothing. When I finally turned and looked at her, her mouth was still hanging open. I said "Told you I was good."
It was Preston Pittman.
I would have paid money to have been able to watch that. :TooFunny:
Bob
Many years ago I when I was a young and single pup I was working with a guy who had moved up this way from Baltimore. Rich had killed a few deer and had gotten started bowhunting. I started talking turkey hunting with and definitely had his interest. Well season came in and it was on. I took a bird the first day I had free to hunt and called a bird in for 6 year old the next. Unfortunately the young man missed but his dad and him are hunting them to this day. Well all this action had old Rich just dying to give it a try. So one Friday after work he pulled me aside and asked if I would take him on a hunt and show him the ropes of this turkey hunting stuff. I agreed and told him when and where to meet. Well that morning we met and he jumped in my truck and off we went. A good brisk mile walk had us at our listening spot on a high ridge with a PowerLine running through it. I had heard two birds back there before season and if they sounded off I felt it was our best chance for him. When daylight broke we were rewarded with silence on our end. However on top of a ridge way off behind us I could hear a couple birds and they were fired up! We had a good breeze coming our way and I know that's the only reason I heard them. I adjusted my vest and slipped my shotgun sling over my head and looked at him. " You ready? " I asked him. Rich looked back across the valley and up that long ridge and said "you gotta be #$!!& me" to which I replied "nope". Well off we went down into the valley and we began our ascent up the mountain. About a quarter of the way up I knew we were in trouble. Rich was a two pack a day smoker and let's just say he wasn't the kind of guy to see the inside of a gym. Stopping to let him catch up I reached in the back of my vest and pulled out a gatorade. Well he got up to me and drained that sucker like he had been in the Sahara for three days. Well he was still game so on we went. A half hour later we were at the top. He had drank my other gatorade and now had my shotgun. I had given him mine about halfway up because he didn't have a sling on his. He was drenched in sweat and looked pretty rough but he was still in it and determined to get his bird. Well luck was on our side (at least to this point) and a quick crow call pinpointed those birds and off we went. I knew right were I wanted to set up. A quick walk through the woods and a few pauses to wait for Rich and we were there. Sitting him at the base of a large oak I gave him his final instructions. " those birds are about 100 yards out in front and slightly to your right. They should come down this logging road and when they come into view they are in range". Let them come a bit if they will but try not to let them any closer than twenty yards." He nodded and got my gun up on his knee and I snuck back about 15 yards and laying his gun on my lap I started calling. In no time those birds fired up and were on their way. It worked perfectly, the three Tom's rounded the bend of the logging road and it was a beautiful sight. I had the perfect view as the Tom's strutted right down his gun barrel. At thirty yards I clucked on the mouth call and they stopped and gobbled but Rich didn't shoot. "OK" I thought "he wants them closer". Well closer is what he got. I stopped them again at twenty. Still no shot. Well those toms got right in his lap. The nearest one is mere feet from his gun barrel and I can't hold back anymore. "Shoot!" I hissed at him. This brings the Tom's to full alert and then I notice the gun barrel dip down twice. The turkeys noticed also specially the one that was only about three feet from the end of the barrel. Well they didn't go for that and bugged out. As they were nervously walking away and putting my old buddy Rich worked the action and really got the birds to moving. He never did fire a shot and I heard some of the most artistic cussing coming from him as a laid back and just rolled with laughter. I had been working for several years on construction sights and I thought I had heard about everything there is to hear but this man put on a performance for the ages. Finally getting to my feet I walked over and discovered the culprit. In the heat of the action, Rich had somehow bumped the slide release and the pump slid down just enough to keep the gun from firing. If he would have just quickly slid it forward we would have had his first bird but he didn't know that so his alternative was to work the action. He was pulling on the trigger so hard that was what was Making the barrel dip. Well on that very long walk back to the truck I got to listen to him rant about his luck and how he couldn't feel various parts of his anatomy because of all the walking and climbing. It was hilarious! Finally reaching tell truck I just casually asked if he wanted to try it again the following weekend. He just glared at me and said " I really like you but you are one sadistic "#$!!*$ if you think that doing all that for that level of disappointment is fun." We still laugh about that but he has never hunted with me since. He still turkey hunts though so I guess all is good.