has anyone got any good hunting trip stories?

[Dipsnort]

If it's ok I'd like to share a pretty incredible fishing story.

My grandparents used to live in Sekiu during the Summer for years and we would get to make a couple of trips each year to go salmon fishing with them, usually around July or August when the kings were running.  The most incredible thing happened the Summer after my High School graduation, August 4, 1981--you may have seen the story in the news when it happened...to me.

It was a chilly morning and thick fog shrouded Clallam Bay, causing us to make the trip out very slowly so we could avoid other boats and the bell bouy.  Fortunately the fog was patchy so we could occasionally find the point that marked our way.  The swells were much smaller than normal, making for a pretty comfortable ride and meaning that I shouldn't have much concern about seasickness that gets to me occasionally.

Just as were rounding the point we spotted a pod of killer whales behind us, probably not more than 50 yards.  They came in and out of our sight due to the rolling fog but it was clear they were approaching closer and closer.  My grandpa hated to see them because he knew it would make fishing tougher than it had to be.  He has always been a very stern man but occasionally relished the thought of getting your goat when the opportunity presented itself, which it did on this day, because I made it clear that I was extremely nervous about seeing these orcas so close to the boat at o'dark thirty with land too far away and I wanted to bump up the speed and get the heck out of Dodge!

Soon I found myself leaving my seat at the rear corner of the boat for the relative safety under the bow.  But at the same time I could feel the seasickness starting to overtake me (I guess my fear didn't help in this regard!) and I knew it would be seconds before I would be blowing chunks over the side of the boat.  Unfortunatly for me the orcas were within 20 yards when I couldn't hold it any longer and I ran back to the back of the boat to relieve the pressure.  I can't express the helplessness I felt at being sicker than a dog and having to get so close to those whales as they approached both sides of the boat, the dorsal fins of the males towering over my head!

No sooner had I begun chumming the waters when my grandpa busted out laughing and then he kicked me in the butt to suit his perverse pleasure of witnessing my precarious situation.  I can tell you that I have never been so happy to have been wearing a life jacket as I was in that moment because I was dizzy and caught off guard enough that I fell overboard right into the lap of the orcas!  Add the shock of the cold water temperature to the mix and I thought I was going to die at that very moment--I was desperately frantic and had completely given up all at the same time!  No sooner had I hit the water and tasted the bitter salt water than one of the large male dorsal fins came up out of the water just behind me and I felt it gripping me with its teeth and pulling on my leg...kinda like I'm doing to you right now.

Ok, that's all I got.

[Austrian Hunter]

If it's ok I'd like to share a pretty incredible fishing story.

My grandparents used to live in Sekiu during the Summer for years and we would get to make a couple of trips each year to go salmon fishing with them, usually around July or August when the kings were running.  The most incredible thing happened the Summer after my High School graduation, August 4, 1981--you may have seen the story in the news when it happened...to me.

It was a chilly morning and thick fog shrouded Clallam Bay, causing us to make the trip out very slowly so we could avoid other boats and the bell bouy.  Fortunately the fog was patchy so we could occasionally find the point that marked our way.  The swells were much smaller than normal, making for a pretty comfortable ride and meaning that I shouldn't have much concern about seasickness that gets to me occasionally.

Just as were rounding the point we spotted a pod of killer whales behind us, probably not more than 50 yards.  They came in and out of our sight due to the rolling fog but it was clear they were approaching closer and closer.  My grandpa hated to see them because he knew it would make fishing tougher than it had to be.  He has always been a very stern man but occasionally relished the thought of getting your goat when the opportunity presented itself, which it did on this day, because I made it clear that I was extremely nervous about seeing these orcas so close to the boat at o'dark thirty with land too far away and I wanted to bump up the speed and get the heck out of Dodge!

Soon I found myself leaving my seat at the rear corner of the boat for the relative safety under the bow.  But at the same time I could feel the seasickness starting to overtake me (I guess my fear didn't help in this regard!) and I knew it would be seconds before I would be blowing chunks over the side of the boat.  Unfortunatly for me the orcas were within 20 yards when I couldn't hold it any longer and I ran back to the back of the boat to relieve the pressure.  I can't express the helplessness I felt at being sicker than a dog and having to get so close to those whales as they approached both sides of the boat, the dorsal fins of the males towering over my head!

No sooner had I begun chumming the waters when my grandpa busted out laughing and then he kicked me in the butt to suit his perverse pleasure of witnessing my precarious situation.  I can tell you that I have never been so happy to have been wearing a life jacket as I was in that moment because I was dizzy and caught off guard enough that I fell overboard right into the lap of the orcas!  Add the shock of the cold water temperature to the mix and I thought I was going to die at that very moment--I was desperately frantic and had completely given up all at the same time!  No sooner had I hit the water and tasted the bitter salt water than one of the large male dorsal fins came up out of the water just behind me and I felt it gripping me with its teeth and pulling on my leg...kinda like I'm doing to you right now.

Ok, that's all I got.

 
Are toy for real?  That must have been scary?  What did your Grandpa said?  Did the Orca pulled you under?  Did it hurt? Come on man don;t stop.   

[Dipsnort]

I think you missed the punchline at the end of the story.

[EastWaViking]

My craziest story. 

Years ago, me and my hunting buddy Jeff  (clipboard guy) decided to  hike into a great spot up by Republic to hunt some mule deer.  We had been to it several times, but decided we would go in a different.... better, way.  We parked the rig early and started hiking, we hit the head of the canyon that would take us to our destination and we saw a small ribbon of smoke coming up through the trees on the other side.  We hurried around and found a smoldering, small forest fire.  We switched from hunters to fire fighters and scooped dirt, stomped flames and generally did our best to put out the fire which was about the size of an average backyard.  We got it pretty well contained then hurried to the highest point to see if we could get a cell signal.  We did, and Jeff was able to contact DNR.  Later we saw a plane heading that direction to take care of business.  Back to hunting...and smelling like smoke.  We started hiking the direction of the pile of rock we called "shooter's point"  This was back before we switched to bow hunting.  We hiked and hiked and bush whacked for hours.  Finally just as the sun was starting to fade, we popped out on a hill where we could see a bit better.   There was the cayon and the point we where headed for.... BEHIND US and about a mile away, on the other side of a huge windfall bottom.   We looked at each other and scratched our heads.  We had already walked at least 10 miles and realized we couldn't get there before dark.  What should be do?  About then we notice an old cat trail below us about a mile.  We figured that would lead us to the road that heads back down to the main highway.  Well, we decided to play it safe and just get out of there.
Down off the mountain to the cat trail, which did lead to a road.  We hiked, and hiked.  Just before it was totally dark we saw 13 1/2  spray painted on a tree.  Huh?  Must be the road number.  We hiked a bit more and saw a 13 painted on a tree!  OH NO, is that the miles to the paved road?   A little further and we saw a 12 1/2, yep.  We still got a long way to go.  Luckily I had a water purification pump, so we filled our water bottles and strapped our rifles onto our day packs and kept hiking.  At on point we came face to face with a large black object that came crashing out of the brush, we both were scrambling for our pistols... then it mooed.  Stupid cow.   We finally got to the road and were able to call a friend to come and rescue us.  We were SO tired, and had hiked 25 miles or more.  Our friend picked us up and took us to Republic where we found a bar and had some dinner, neither of us could hardly walk at that point.  (I was wearing high heeled logger boots, not really meant for hiking.)  He then  drove us back to the truck where we crashed, it was somewhere after midnight by then. 

I'm not really sure what we were thinking.  I guess we were planning to spending the night at shooter's point, but we didn't have sleeping bags or much food.... I guess we were just young and foolish, but it makes for a good story.