Outfitters, I would like to hear your horror stories!

[dc]

Maybe @bearpaw will come on here and air out his story about "Adams11" and his buddies that booked a cougar hunt.  What a bunch of jokers those guys were. 

I could write a book of humorous short stories but it seems like it would be unprofessional to embarrass anyone publicly. A lot of that stuff should probably be unspoken, sort of a hunter/guide privilege, if you will!

I've had some of my own escapades that qualify too! 

That is very classy of you good sir. 

[dilleytech]

I listened to some Wyoming deer guides talking about there clients this fall. It’s very inertaining. Mostly stories about 2,000$ self targeting scopes that don’t work. There least favorite calibers. And guys that insist on shooting a “4x4” or nothing. So some guys will pass on a 180” 3 point to shoot a 130” 4 point.

[Okanagan]

I could write a book of humorous short stories but it seems like it would be unprofessional to embarrass anyone publicly. A lot of that stuff should probably be unspoken, sort of a hunter/guide privilege, if you will!

I've had some of my own escapades that qualify too! 

Interesting reply!

I've been fortunate to hang out with several outfitters and guides, some as friends.  Without exception, they have never told me a bad story about a client.  They have told me some funny stuff, some impressively good things about clients, one story about a lazy client, but nothing I'd class as bad.  The one time I pressed an outfitter friend to tell me some of his stories of bad clients, he finally told me about a fellow who was so lucky that he didn't really appreciate what a phenomenal hunt he'd had.  Apparently there is some sort of guide/client privilege among good guides!

A long time fishing guide friend who has made lifelong friends among a number of clients, told me that the key was to figure out what the client wanted and give that to him.  If he likes to sleep in, have a fine breakfast, maybe a nice boat ride on calm water and be back to the dock for lunch:  do it.  That is what he's paying for.  If the guy is a hard core fisherman who wants big fish, have him on the water at the right tide and place before daylight, and stay out as long as you can, rain or shine. 

[WSU]

A long time fishing guide friend who has made lifelong friends among a number of clients, told me that the key was to figure out what the client wanted and give that to him.  If he likes to sleep in, have a fine breakfast, maybe a nice boat ride on calm water and be back to the dock for lunch:  do it.  That is what he's paying for.  If the guy is a hard core fisherman who wants big fish, have him on the water at the right tide and place before daylight, and stay out as long as you can, rain or shine.

That's the key right there.  Lots of people can catch fish.  Not a lot of people can make sure everyone has a fun day every time out or can get along with most anyone.

[Okanagan]

Since I'm pontificating this morning, here is another:  A wilderness resort owner at a place that drew the wealthy and the highest national politicians in our land, once told me that they say that they want a real wilderness experience.  They are all lying.  He was smiling as he said that, and probably not all are lying, but most of them want premium creature comforts where they can look out a window at wilderness.

[theleo]

I could write a book of humorous short stories but it seems like it would be unprofessional to embarrass anyone publicly. A lot of that stuff should probably be unspoken, sort of a hunter/guide privilege, if you will!

I've had some of my own escapades that qualify too! 

How about some stories of guys fresh out of guide or packing school and their introductions to the reality of being a guide or packer?

[CoryTDF]

I always like when you go out on a fishing trip and half the guys get sea sick and then complain about it to the guide like he had some control over it  . I find that by in larger people typically overestimate and exaggerate their true abilities and then try to find somebody to blame other than themselves. 

I have never used a guide service for hunting and unless I hit some lottery I probably never will. What I do know is that I hunt harder than many of the guides that I know and if I paid a guy to take me out he better be every bit, and hopefully more capable, than I am. People need to understand that hunting is hunting and killing is killing they are not the same thing. If you want a killing trip hire a guide for a small high fence area. If you want a hunt with the chance of a kill go with a wilderness guide. That is my 

If my life dream comes true and I am able to go on a Yukon moose hunt I will likely have a guide and i'll make darn sure to do my homework before I spend a dollar.   

[Stein]

I was on an AK 6-pack hali trip a while back, it was a side-trip on a business trip so I was added with 5 other random dudes including "Frenchy".  That's what the guide called him because he was obviously from France (clever guide).  Said guide was a very large individual and had a deck hand that was probably 115 soaking wet to round out the crew.

Deck hand's job on the run out was to keep inserting a rolled up bath towel into the scissor portion of the air ride chair because the captain would bottom it out every time we hit a wave - I was sure he was going to lose a hand, but this wasn't his first rodeo.  Captain didn't budge of the chair the entire trip.  On the way out, I asked him what he does during the long winters up there and his answer was "drink."  He smoked about 500 cigarettes that day, lighting one off the other the entire time.

Well, he knew how to find the fish and we once the tide changed we were quickly on a nice pile of good sized fish up to 120# - except Frenchy.  Every time he would hit bottom he would think he had a bite and reel up 300' very slowly, sometimes upside down and backwards.  After the 3rd or 4th time, captain says "Frenchy, if you reel that in one more time I will throw your *ss overboard."

30 seconds later.....  but Frenchy says he had one that just got off right at the boat.

We get our limit, captain's limit, deck hand's limit and Frenchy finally manages to hook one.  I end up reeling in Frenchy's #2.

On the way back, Frenchy and his buddy keep going from one side of the boat to the other and Captain has to keep working the trim tabs to keep the boat semi-level.  Finally, he stops the boat and says something I shouldn't repeat here.

Back at the beach, Frenchy almost gets in a fight trying to take one of my fish which is roughly twice the size as the one he actually caught.  Deck hand suggests Frenchy take his fish and leave before captain gets back and sends him to the hospital.  Deck hand then loads the smallest two fish whole into a garbage bag and throws it into the back seat of his rental car and Frenchy pouts out of there.

[Alchase]

When my Dad and I would book salmon trips from Ilwaco, Westport  or Ocean Shores (when they had charters) we always hooked up with the smaller 6 or 12 man charters. One 12 man charter out of Westport, we were the only ones not chumming. The 10 others squeezed inside thinking they would not get as sick. We got to catch the limits, and got pick of the fish. 

[pianoman9701]

Some years ago, I was guiding a father and son team in the mountainous state of New Hampshire. They were keen on trophy red squirrel hunting and I was the guide to do it. We spoke a few times on the phone in preparation and I received their 50% deposit of $35 dollars and a 1/2 lb of beef jerky. As you may know, NH has vast wilderness areas and mountains so tall, they take 1-2 hours to climb, some reaching over 4K feet!!! I know, Everest-like, right? So, they arrive in camp on the first day and these two are real greenhorns; wearing dungarees (East coast lingo for jeans), sneakers, and one even had on a Yankees T-shirt (WT#, Yankees in in NH?). Being the professional guide that I was at the time, I set the example by wearing my Lowa boots, $1500 worth of Sitka gear (That's one shirt and a hat), and of course a full Ghillie suit, a camo covered Custom-made Bang Bros .22, with a Leupold 6-24x80 Star Gazer scope. I was ready to do violence on some red squirrels. They were ready for second breakfast and a nap. I knew this would be challenging. We set out on our adventure down a long logging road. It was late summer and even though the black flies had gone, the state bird of NH, the mosquito, was everywhere. We'd been hiking along for a long, long time, likely at least 300 yards from camp. I was starting to feel it in my calves but I had a lot left to go. The kid kept whining "The bugs are biting" and "my left sneaker is untied" and "I have swamp butt". Dad was plum tuckered out and didn't say much, until...we saw the rust-colored flash of our quarry high up in a tree.  Little Davy asks his dad if he can take the shot, but his father was already sighting in on the beast - what a jerk! He took careful aim but then, started to shake slightly. The shaking increased and a drop of drool appeared, sliding down to his chin. He pulled the trigger. Once, twice, four, five, ten, times. He had it bad; squirrel fever. I'd seen this before and it aint pretty. I calmly took the Ruger from his now sweaty and uncontrollably shaking hands, and gave it to the boy. "Davy", I said, "I want you to aim right over the leg. We're going for a heart shot." He brought the gun up slowly, never taking his eyes off the squirrel (that had stopped running after dad's third shot and just sat there chattering at us). There was a slight breeze, but other than the muffled rustling of leaves and that damned chattering, there was no sound. The lad took aim, finger on the trigger, squeezed slowly, and bang! The damn chattering continued. The boy cried. The father scoffed. I raised my tool of destruction (I'm talking about the gun, you perv), and aimed carefully. But at the last moment, just before I sent that terrifying rodent to certain oblivion, I noticed the spec on his butt. You know what it was. It was a tick on the squirrel's but at a hundred yards. Challenge accepted! I boosted it up to 16 power, took careful aim, and blasted that tick to Kingdom Come. There was total awe and wonderment on the faces of my charges. They knew what they'd just witnessed. But now we had a problem: no squirrels and dad and son were plum tuckered out and unable to walk another step, save alone the 300 steps back to camp. I had to get the meat cart. I trudged back to camp. It took like what seemed hours in that 80 degree heat on that grueling trail. I grabbed the meat cart (so far, unblooded by squirrel juice) and returned to the two weary hunters. "Get your butts in the cart", I said disgustedly. Davy whimpered quietly as his dad stretched out for the long ride back. It took everything I had but I knew my responsibility to these two. I pushed them back to camp. When we arrived back, Davy wanted to know where to plug in his IPhone. His dad wanted a martini. It was 1130 in the morning, for crying out loud! I'd had it. "Get in the &^%^ *&%$ car!. I'm taking you home." Stunned, staring at me with their mouths agape, they loaded into the car, never taking their eyes off of me. When we got to their home, 15 minutes later, they almost fell over each other getting out. "I'll not pay you a dime more nor more jerky will you get, you bas#^&%!!!" Well, good riddance. And that was the end of my guiding career.

[gasman]

That is freaking hilariously Plan 

[RockChuck]

Lmao!! 

[Alchase]

P-man, you need to come to Oklahoma and guide me on my quest for a spot-and-stock white tail buck!
We have a couple hills almost that big, I swear!
Everytime I ask hunters here for advice, the just glare down at me from their lofty tree stand perches, in their generational hand me down Carhartt insulated coveralls that have not been washed in decades, the same blaze orange vests they wore when kids, and their white Muck Boots (They are very traditional) I yell up to them extra loud, all they do is wave their arms in erratic fashion. I think they are all hard of hearing or the yellow jackets must be really bad at higher altitudes. 

[pianoman9701]

  That would be my pleasure.