Now that's funny!
That reminds me of when my dad ran a guide service out of Reno, his clients came from all over the U.S., for some reason, my dad had this huge cookie jar of matchbooks from mustang ranch brothel. On every out of town client, he'd sneak a few of them here and there in their luggage! He had some explaining to a few wives!
Now that's funny!
Whenever my uncle picks up someone else's rifle, he takes the caps off the scope after a few minutes of inspecting the weapon, he acts like he is adjusting the scope, when the person freaks out and say, "what the @$%# are you doing?", he replies,"your scope looks off so I'm adjusting it for you". It is particularly funny in deer camp because you see that heart sunken look like, this really just happened. After he informs them of the joke, they always look at the scope is if trying to remember where the slit or notch was prior to handing the weapon off. Funny stuff.
When I was on the hotshots, some dude put some rocks in a guys pack, I thought they were going to go at it right there! Note to self, NEVER put rocks in someone's pack. Talk about jokes, being in wild land, that's all it is! We used to flip every night to do stupid or crazy things. We were flown into this fire in Idaho, they flew in some food and water\ Gatorade for us and for some reason, they flew up a friggin crapload of apple juice, so we all flipped on who had to drink one of those juice boxes of apple juice every 15 minutes. Second loser had to carry them all day. It was down to myself and another guy, I ended up having to carry two cases and deliver a carton to him every 15 minutes, by ten o clock, that guy was an apple and threw in the towel. He crapped his pants like 5 times! Another note to self, do not drink juice boxes full of apple juices every 15 minutes for 3 hours. Good times, the bad part for me is my pack didn't get any lighter all day
When I was 12 or 13, I would be elk hunting with my dad, we would be going up a ridge, he would stop to catch his breath and I was 5 to 10 yards behind him, when I would catch up he would take off up the ridge again. Really pissed me off until I figured it out. Now the tables have turned, I became a great endurance runner and went from 5'7" to 6'3". He doesn't even bother hunting with me anymore
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It was opening day of the third deer season in Colorado and I heard my buddy shoot. I stayed where I was for an hour or so and then headed his way to see what he had killed. When I arrived he had just halved the buck. It was a heavy horned 4X4 a little over 30 inches wide, a real monster and his biggest ever. I helped him drag the halves across the snow into the quakies. I told him I'd cape the buck out if he would get our pack frames back at the truck. As I started working on the buck I looked up and saw him heading back the way he came. I chuckled to myself and finished with the job at hand. I grabbed the cape and head and took off for the truck. He had gotten the pack frames and was going back the way he came. I left the head in the back of the truck and beat him back to the meat. In a few minutes he showed up with the pack frames and immediately asked where the head was. I told him a couple guys had held me a gun point and took it! I was just now getting untied. The expression on his face was priceless! I started laughing and he knew the jig was up! He could not believe that I could have gone to the truck and back before him. Still makes me chuckle! His buck scored 194 and is still the biggest he has ever taken.
Every hunting season you miss is one you can not make up.
I grew up in San Antonio, deer hunting is south Texas. There was this old shack that we would hunt out of sometimes - it was leftover from when the farm had migrant workers - a little 8x10 shack with a bunk. Well, one day we killed a rattlesnake on the way to the blind, and skinned it out in the blind, leaving the head on the bunk (out of the way) and forgetting about it. The next morning, my dad's buddy was going to hunt in that blind, and about 45 minutes before light, you heard a scream and 2 quick pistol shots...he found the head at eye level - in his headlamp...oops.
Another funny one was from I guy I worked with when I was still in school. His hunting partner would always fall asleep in the layout blind while goose hunting. Kurt decided it would be funny to chamber a 12ga flare in the sleeping friend's gun, and wake him up by calling the shot...wish I could have seen that one.
I have two friends in Az. I archery elk and deer hunt with often. One of them especially I always put rocks in his pack sometimes a few small ones or one big one in the bottom of his pack. He'll come back to camp and say real funny azzhole ! I like to put elk turds in all his pack pockets and coat pockets if I can get to it. I check my pack for rocks/payback all the time. They haven't got me yet...Once when I was hunting bighorn here in Ca. , we were walking back to truck at end of they day and we were tired. My friend was in front of me. He was older than Me. The top of his pack was unzipped. For about 4 miles I had got somthing like 14 palm sized rocks in his pack. He never said anything about the weight. I thought he would notice when he took his pack off at the truck. Didn't . He found them when he emptied his pack inside the house. I sat there watching him take them out one by one. He had a good sense of humor but I actually felt bad afterwards that I did it... He added them to his collection outside.