Funny stories

[Billnpatti]

I'll tell another one on a good friend of mine. George was our family doctor, and a good one, and a personal friend of mine as well as being one of my hunting buddies. George was born with a condition called anosmia, or the complete inability to smell anything. Anyway, we had gone hunting and during the preparation for the hunt, one of our other hunting buddies saw some artificial skunk scent to be used as a masking scent. We all bought a package, each containing two bottles. The instructions said to apply one or two drops from each bottle to a bit of cotton or on the grass around your hunting location to mask your human scent. After our first morning hunt, George came back to camp complaining of a badly stopped up nose. He said "By dose is stobbed ub. I don't know why but I can hardly breade." He also smelled strongly of skunk. I asked him if he had put the stuff on his clothes and he said "Ub course nod. I pud id on the coddon like it said." His eyes were also a bit red. I asked him how much he had used and he held up his bottles and they were almost empty. He said "I just gabe each coddon a good squird frob each bottle." I looked in disbelief and said "George, you only needed a couple of drops of each bottle not a whole bottle. I can only imagine the cloud of skunk scent he was sitting in. It was no wonder he couldn't breathe. And he is the one who treats me medically???? Well, fortunately, he is really a much better doctor than he is a hunter. That happened quite a few years ago and I haven't let him forget it since. He could probably tell a couple stories on me, too. I guess that's the way old hunting buddies are. :thumbsup:

 

[Otter]

Not a "haha" story of the mishap variety, but more of a benign practical joke . . .

A number of us were at an ML shoot at a Rendezvous about 15 years ago. My best friend and I were set up at the same loading bench and shooting identical 50 cal GPRs. I had shot at my target and my buddy was behind me and stepped up to the shooting line as I stepped back. He raised his rifle and set it butt down saying he forgot something at the bench and asked if I would hold his rifle at the line while he retrieved whatever it was he forgot. He returned mere seconds later and stepped to the line. I handed him my rifle and he put the cap on it, raised it to shoot, took careful aim (with MY unloaded rifle) and dropped the hammer. All he heard was the "pop" of the cap on an empty rifle and proceeded to turn the air blue thinking he had dry-balled. He turned to me to see I was just about ready to bust a gut trying to hold back my guffawing. I held out his loaded, but uncapped, rifle to him. He reapproached the shooting line, capped HIS rifle and pulled the trigger. As I recall, he did well at that target. We had some good chuckles over the years about that event.

 

[Brokenlaig]

Once upon a time, many moons ago, I owned a flint trade gun made in 12 Ga (yes, .72). A friend and I were out hunting for squirrels. After a few hours of shooting at small tufts of fur, far away, with little success we grew weary and headed back to the truck. I decided I'd like to try a few round balls out of the old pumpkin slinger so I loaded one up. Just about the time I replaced the ramrod, a brave squirrel poked his nose over a tree limb. I decided I'd teach him a lesson and take a crack at him. So I did. The smoke cleared to show a pile of splinters, some fur and a broken off tree limb about two inches thick on the ground. "I think you got him" says my friend in a disbelieving fashion. "Naw, say I, just the limb" Looking around, we found a few tufts of bloody fur, a piece of tail and...nothing else. Nothing, nada.
Evidently, The huge ball hit the limb, mushroomed, hit the squirrel and launched him into low earth orbit leaving only a bit of tail and some fur.
For years afterward he would kid me about going to hunt flying squirrels with a musket. :grin:

 

[Col. Batguano]

In the early `60's when I was a little guy I used to beg my Grandpa to take me pheasant hunting to SD every fall, as he went for many many years, every year for a 3-5 day pheasant hunting trip. He never did take me, and later on he got too old and quit going. Then in the `80's he died and I got his shotgun (a very pristine Win Mod 12 which I cherish to this day). A couple years pass and Grandma gives me Grandpa's "box of bullets". I open it up and there are 4 boxes of 1950's vintage Peters shells in there, with only 6 missing. But there are 3 decks of cards, all of which are frayed and the edges all worn down.

that answers why the shotgun was in such good shape, despite 20 years of long pheasant hunting trips! And why he wouldn't bring a 7 year old with him on the trips!

 

[Rifleman1776]

I have one but it is a bow hunting story. Not ml. I can't tell it here. But, please laugh anyway.

 

[okawbow]

Back when I was 19, I bought all the parts to make a "Hawken" rifle. An older man, who had built a few muzzleloaders helped me cut the barrel channel and drill the ramrod hole. After a few weeks work, I had a working rifle.

That fall I drove down to the Shawnee national forest in southern Illinois for the 3 day "shotgun" deer season. I had hunted deer a few times, but had never killed one.

The first morning, I sat on a stump, while an army of orange clad deer hunters tromped by. I had carefully loaded my 50 caliber, with 90 grains of 2F and a patched round ball. After awhile; I got bored and started walking through a river bottom. I stepped around a large fallen tree, and there stood a small buck! My rifle came up slowly, and I pulled back the hammer. BOOM!! The gun went off while still pointed over the deer's back. I had forgot to set the triggers. They were single lever double set triggers, and had to be set before cocking the hammer.

To my surprise; the deer just stood the about 40 yards away. There was a cloud of smoke between me and the deer, and I think he didn't realize what had happened. I slowly reached for my powder flask, only to find that I left it back at my earlier stump. The deer was gone, of course, when I got back after retrieving the powder and reloading.

40 years later, I still prefer single triggers on my hunting guns.

 

[matt denison]

In the early `60's when I was a little guy I used to beg my Grandpa to take me pheasant hunting to SD every fall, as he went for many many years, every year for a 3-5 day pheasant hunting trip. He never did take me, and later on he got too old and quit going. Then in the `80's he died and I got his shotgun (a very pristine Win Mod 12 which I cherish to this day). A couple years pass and Grandma gives me Grandpa's "box of bullets". I open it up and there are 4 boxes of 1950's vintage Peters shells in there, with only 6 missing. But there are 3 decks of cards, all of which are frayed and the edges all worn down.

that answers why the shotgun was in such good shape, despite 20 years of long pheasant hunting trips! And why he wouldn't bring a 7 year old with him on the trips!

Good one! :rotf:

 

[Wes/Tex]

If they were Bettie Page pinup cards...who cares! :wink: :rotf:

 

[Rifleman1776]

OK, I remembered one from an ml hunt. I think the year was about 1979. I went deer hunting about half way down the state for the ml season. I had my .45 cal. flint longrifle. Beautiful forest with a lot of large old growth trees that had the opportunity for some longer than normal shots. After three days I hadn't seen a single deer. Finally, I found a place with tracks and what looked like a well used path. I carried a small folding stool into the woods, located a sorta hidden spot and set up my stand. After a while I heard something coming and waited. A large 'deer' appeared and stopped only about 30 yards in front of me. I stood up, cocked and started to aim. But, it looked more like an elk than a deer. :shocked2: At the time we didn't have elk in Arkansas. My mind wrestled with this puzzlement for several seconds. No elk....so it must be a deer.....deer aren't that big....deer don't have that white fur on the butt....but we don't have elk in Arkansas. What to do? :idunno: I was getting tense and shaky, finally I fired right on a nervous twitch and saw the ball hit a tree just over the back of the 'deer/elk'. I told the story in camp that night and just got a lot of strange looks from the non-believers.
A couple years later I learned the game and fish commission had released a number of elk into that area without any announcement as part of reintroducing them to Arkansas. I almost illegally killed an elk. :redface: Lucky I got 'elk fever' and missed the shot.

 

[azmntman]

Being only 47 years old I told the eye DR I did NOT need bifocals and passed on a pair. 2 months later found me in front of a small herd of deer with a loaded .50. It was very close to dark and I could see one had smallish spikes, leagal though so i aimed n fired off the cap only! My son handed me his capper (as the dder just milled a bit) and as I kept my eye on the deer so's as not to lose sight of the one with horns I tried recapping..... went through all 9 or 10 caps but as the area was a total blur I couldn't see well enough and when all the caps were on the ground I advised I didn't feel like cleaning anything that night. He believed it till he noted his capper was empty and made me confess! 47 is is NOT to young for bifocals I guess? (he wouldn't shoot the spike....wanted horns that year) and he offered me his gun but by that time the buck had milled in with the does and it was too dark to pick him out for a clean shot w/o maybe a pass through getting a doe.

Years before I was hunting ML season on opening day all nice and dressed up for an important business meeting. No deer came to the stand and I was driving very fast down a dirt road when low and behold a whole herd of bucks crossed in front of me! I skidded to a stop and at exactly 7:25 AM I shot a nice fat 3 point at 45 yards. Was dragging him to the truck and a guy (who was apparently after the herd and saw the whole thing) comes up and says "why did you shoot the little one? (a nice big 4x5 was about 60 yds) and I replied "cuz he was closer" and I'm going home! Threw the lil buck in the truck w/o even gutting and drove home and had a buddy dress him while I took care of business!

 

[Rifleman1776]

47 is is NOT to young for bifocals

Ages 45 to 47 are right on point for when most people will need bifocals. Age 96 is about the age when most people will admit they need bifocals. :wink:

 

[Rick Boylan]

Been wearing them since I was in my mid to late 40s. Just get the ones with no line and you'll not look like an old coot. :haha:

 

[larryp]

Yep, been wearing no line bifocals since my mid 40's.

 

[brubincam]

have no line bifocals with the bi focal in the lower 1/4 of the lense---works for me

 

[Rifleman1776]

Been wearing them since I was in my mid to late 40s. Just get the ones with no line and you'll not look like an old coot. :haha:

I was about 45 also when I needed them. But, I choose the standard bi-focals with a line. Never a problem. Besides, I act like an old coot, why shouldn't I look like one? :wink:

 

[bpd303]

Me too, never could get used to the no-lines.

 

[Rick Boylan]

Been wearing them since I was in my mid to late 40s. Just get the ones with no line and you'll not look like an old coot. :haha:

I was about 45 also when I needed them. But, I choose the standard bi-focals with a line. Never a problem. Besides, I act like an old coot, why shouldn't I look like one? :wink:

:rotf: :hatsoff:

 

[slowpokebr549]

Im 47 and already in tri focals. Too much office work at the computer I guess.

I have hunted my farm for so many years that I know all the good spots. There is one spot in particular that is always good for turkey in the spring. You can stand at the bottom of a small cliff and call and frequently a jake will skyline himself for a perfect head shot. I told my boy, then about ten, about this. Sure enough, I had no more than scratched out a couple of lonely hen sounds when a gentleman turkey poked his head over. I dropped the hammer on him. He launched straight into the air like a rocket. I mean he really got up there. He hit the top of his arc and plummeted to earth like a meteor. My boy and I had to scatter as he hit the earth right between us. My boy went home that afternoon and told my ex that a turkey had charged us. I was hard put to disagree.

 

[bpd303]

Speaking of funny stories about turkeys, a friend of mine named Kong (he was very large) was driving home one evening when he spotted a turkey that was hung up in a fence with hog wire around the bottom.

He jumped out of the truck and ran over to the turkey and grabbed him by the neck & got him unstuck. He then threw the turkey into the cab and started home thinking the turkey was dead. Well that bird came to and literally beat the stuffing out of Kong.

Kong said boy I'll never do that again, unfortunately Kong passed away or he would confirm the story.