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pics of waitress

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Not hunting, but who's the member who was fishing in Alaska and hooked a massive halibut(WELL over 100 pounds)? he hooked it, boat owner about shit his pants getting a pistol to shoot it with. Back at the dock the other guides called the fisherman an asshole for not releasing such a big fish and the guide just sat back and kept his mouth shut.

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Having guided elk, deer and sheep hunters in the Gunnison country for nearly 20 years, I have a few stories I could tell.  Here's one of my favorites about a couple of late arrival, 'walk-ins' we had show up one elk season back in the day.

I don't recall exactly where these ol' boys were from but I wanna say they came out from the backwoods of...Missouri.  Or Oklahoma.  Or Kentucky.  Doesn't matter.  Between the two of them, these towers of intellect could count the number of teeth in both their heads on one hand.  While their outward appearances gave the impression neither one had two nickels to rub together, they somehow showed up in camp with a wad of cash nearly as big around as your fist.

These guys had not booked the hunt in advance like most hunters did but, as mentioned above, just showed up with the outfitter who was more than happy to fill a couple empty spaces in camp by accepting their cash.  Well, these bumpkins proceeded to endear themselves to everyone in camp with their 'gracious' mannerisms and 'sofistykated' way of speaking, to the point that none of us guides or other guests wanted much of anything to do with them.

Hanging their dirty, wet socks over the dining table in the mess tent didn't fly with any of us and they had to be told to take their stinkin' socks back to their own assigned tent to hang 'em over the wood stove to dry.  In another questionable turn of events, we had one of the local game wardens ride in while these good ol' boys were still hangin' around camp one morning.  I was already back in camp to water horses so I saw their reaction as soon as they saw the uniform of the rider approaching the camp.  I'm here to tell you, I never saw two fat boys run for the woods so quick in all my days.  They stayed 'disappeared' until the game warden rode on out of camp, too.  Later that day, the outfitter took these two scofflaws back to town to buy some elk tags which they had apparently...forgotten...to pick up when they hit town a few days earlier.

Myself and one of the other guides got our revenge on these two during the last morning in camp before packing out and heading back to town.  I didn't figure these guys to be big tippers at all (and they weren't) so while us guides were loading the horses with duffle bags & other gear, I had the bright idea to load these two hillbillies bags with frozen horse shit.  I mean...we were pitching ice cold road apples inside their two duffles like nobody's business.  We were spotted doing this by the outfitter (and owner of the business) but he was so disgusted with these guys also, that all he could do was shake his head and crack a smile at us.

Sure would liked to have seen their faces when they opened up their gear bags after a long drive back to where ever they came from.

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I got no dog in this fight and can imagine both sides of the debate. But I'll ask... Were they poachers? I wasn't sure about that from the original story. Doesn't sound like they shot anything without permits. Had they been in the field actively hunting without permits? On that point I wasn't sure.

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pics of waitress

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North Dakota self DIY duck and pheasant hunting.  The place we were staying at was like a bed and breakfast that sat on something like 5000 acres that.  By staying there you get permission to hunt anywhere on that acerage (This was our 3rd year ther) . That is until the owners 18 year old son decides he's a guide all of a sudden.  Fucking guy came flying thru the field in a pickup towards our group, almost running over one of my dogs.  Makes an uncased loaded gun readily visible and starts melting down.  Screaming that we're trespassing and he's going to start shooting if we don't leave immediately.  We decide to just head back to the B&B to discuss it with the owner.  He didn't believe us.  Started packing up right then and there because I refuse to be around people that unstable even if they were all show and no go.
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A group of us went for a hog hunt in western Texas.
Outfitter picked us up at the airport and needed to make a couple of quick stops before we headed out to the ranch. Feed store, hardware store, pretty much normal stuff (bags of corn, hog attractant, and some other items).
When we hit the grocery store and along with groceries he loads up 8 cases of beer and tells us if we want any beer we should buy it now.

As soon as we get to the ranch, the guide cracks open his first beer. From that point forward, during the entire trip, I did not once see him awake without a beer in his hand.

It was obvious nobody had been there in months. There were zero preps made for our arrival. The house was literally falling down. Front door needed to have a chair propped against it to keep it closed (no doorknob or latch). Nothing but rotted plywood flooring throughout the place. There were holes in the floor big enough that your whole leg would drop into. The walls were barely standing and all seemed to be leaning about 10 degrees to one side. It had a bathroom but the floor by the shitter was rotted out. Needed to throw out the outriggers pretty wide to keep the shitter from wobbling and falling over. I have zero issue with "roughing it" or staying in primitive camps and have stayed in some pretty shitty cabins over the years, including makeshift hunter cabins and tents in northern Canada, but this place was by far the worst pig sty I have seen. Not just unkept but dirty as fuck.

Guide drank himself into an alcohol induced semi coma the first night and passed out on the couch, or the nasty dirty, semi upholstered flea hotel that passed for a couch. He snored so loud that everybody needed ear plugs to sleep.

First day of the hunt, we get up and get our breakfast. The guide was supposed to have done that as part of the package but he is still snoozing away on the couch. We finish breakfast and poke him for a few minutes to rouse him from his alcohol induced slumber. He staggers to his feet mumbles "come on" and
goes to sit in his pickup. We load up and he drives around to the various stand locations and drops us all off.
Each hunting site was a tripod stand with a feeder ~20-25 yards away. Granted you need to be prepared for inclement weather but regardless of how good your rain gear is, sitting in a tripod in the pouring rain (like 40 days and 40 nights pouring rain) for several hours, you are going to get wet.
The feeders should have run just a little after the sun came up. I am sitting there, waiting and waiting and waiting...nothing. I finally climb down and go to check the feeder.
1) The feeder is fucking EMPTY
2) The battery in the feeder is dead. No display at all.

I spend the rest of the day still hunting the area in the pouring rain.

One afternoon I asked the guide to leave me in the stand for about 2 hours after dark. The piles of corn we were leaving out were getting hit, just not during the daylight. I had a light for my bow and wanted to see if maybe I could get a shot after dark. 8:30 rolls around no hogs. 9:00 no hogs and no guide. 9:45 still no hogs and no guide. 10:00 I say fuck it and start to walk back. Around 11:00 I find the guide's truck pulled over on the side of one of the ranch roads, idling. He is passed out in the driver's seat and I can't wake him up. I finish walking back to the camp, pissed, hungry and wet.

It went pretty much that way for the rest of the hunt. Guide drunk, feeders empty, never ending rain, no hogs seen.

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I guided at a pheasant preserve in high school for 3 seasons.  Great preserve operated by family friends down the road from our farm.  My 3rd season (senior year of high school) the owner's son was kind of taking over all the advertising, bookings, etc.  Turns out he told clients that they were not expected to tip the guides.  Us 3 guides, (me, my dad, and a friend of my dad's) were not told of this change, nor was our salary adjusted to make up for the lack of tips.  My first 2 seasons I make over $5,000 total in tips, and was hoping that by guiding nearly every weekend and 2 weeks straight over christmas break with some really good tipping repeat customers, that I would make around $3500 in tips.  For a blue collar farm kid, this was good money, and was really going to help me pay for tech school expenses.  After the christmast break run of really good bookings, I asked the owner about getting a tip check.  He said his son was handling that, and when I approached the son about it, he gave me this blank stare and stammered on about how he thought we knew they weren't collecting tips this season.  My dad found out and about buried the son behind the barn he was so mad; not so much for him getting stiffed, but the fact that the son made a weasel decision and didn't tell us.  My dad told the owner we both would no longer be working for the club as long as the son was making the day to day decisions.   That spring the farm/club owner snuck a $1,000 check into my graduation card box, and placed a new in the box beretta 20 gauge in my dad's truck as a peace offering to make up for his son's stupid decision.

The son made some bad business decisions and the business, skeet/trap ranges, clubhouse, bunkhouse, and all of the land were leased out to a law firm in the twin cities.  My dad and I actually tried to put together a business plan to take over the club and land, as well as take over and fold my grandpa's gunsmithing business into the club operation, but it did't work out.  I miss working there; for every bad client there was 20-30 great ones.

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Very similar experience as a kid.  Big boat and every one wanted to go back in early except for 4 guys.  Captain says they paid money to do this and so long as they want to stay, we're staying.  I think the dudes about got thrown overboard by an angry mob and finally decided they were ready to come in too.

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I work in an industry with a lot of owner/operator small businesses. I would estimate 80% fail 2-5 years after being "taken over by the kids" it is hard to watch sometimes.

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That, I can respect.

I'm not the one you want making the call to go in or not because of seas though, I've been open-water fishing since I was 4 or 5 and have spent a good chunk of my professional life on deepwater drilling rigs or their supply vessels. If I'm seasick, everyone else is dead

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Great thread.

I've only done 3 guided hunts as I'm a poor sob.

My only horror story was a goose hunt in TX. We were late getting out and setting up and the guide was new and not sure exactly what to do.

We ended up freezing our ashes off in sleet and rain for zero geese.

We got the hunt st a ducks unlimited banquet.

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I've always heard it said, "1st gen starts it, 2nd gen builds it, 3rd gen loses it!"  However, my observation has been that most 2nd gen's don't do so well.

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I've always gotten along great with my in-laws. And deer hunting is a big deal in my family and a really big deal to me. Big enough that I always dedicate one of my two weeks of annual vacation time to deer hunting. I'll do one year with my family and the next year with my in-laws and just keep switching like that. My in-laws land sucks but the deer get much bigger up north. My family's land in Missouri is pristine perfect and very large with better accommodations but the deer don't seem quite as nice. So there's benefits and downsides to hunting either place.

2 years ago I hunted with my in-laws when my BIL (kind of a famous dumbass) showed up. My in-laws are shitty communicators. Thought it was just gonna be my FIL but here comes BIL too. Whatever, it's not my land. But BIL is nearly 40 and admits that he's kind of scared of the dark so he needs a light on in the one room cabin for him to sleep well and the woods really spook him even though he's a goddamn apex predator with a high powered rifle.

So the night before opening we all decide where each of us will hunt. I'm last out the door by about 10 minutes making my final preps. Finally get to my spot to find out my BIL changed his mind and took my spot. Wtf. So now I have to really hustle to get over to where he was supposed to be. Not a good start.

Lunch time comes around and I'm hungry and frozen so I head back to the cabin. Bout 30 min later, BIL shows up dragging a bobcat he poached. He was hoping he could buy a permit for it. We explained that was no longer possible and his dad told him he needed to make that cat disappear. So he stuffed it down the outhouse shit hole.

I announced the weather was too fucking cold, packed up my shit and left. Swore I'd never hunt with BIL again.

So 2 years later rolls around. I'm talking 3 days ago. On Thursday I'm texting my FIL and he's asking when I'll get to camp. I tell him around noon. He says he'll be there then too. So I get to the cabin just when I said... and there's my fucking BIL. I said, this is a surprise, when's your dad getting here? BIL says not until around 6pm because he's bring BIL's kids.

You gotta be shitting me. These kids are wild animals. One is 10, the other 8. The cabin is perfect for 1 or 2 people. Tight with 3. And a major problem with 5 especially when 2 of them are I'll behaved terrors. From Friday night through Sunday afternoon they farted on every pillow in the cabin, repeatedly belched as loud as they could at the dinner table, spilled 3 sprites, 2 waters, 1 glass of chocolate milk, and a beer. They ate nothing but junk food and began to complain of belly aches. At one point I walked in the cabin and there sat the 8yo with a glass of vomit in front of him. His vomit. He was admiring all the colors in it. Feeling slightly better, he promptly went back to eating junk food.

The property they own for hunting has a steep, narrow valley as it's main terrain feature. It's heavily wooded, is about 1/4 mile long (though they don't own it all), 300 yards from ridge to ridge and each ridge rises about 500 feet from the base. The bottom of the valley has a deep cut ravine running along the bottom that is all but impossible to cross. I was told to hunt one side of the valley and across the ravine, on the opposite ridge from BIL's location. I can just see BIL's hunting spot through the tree tops. His is clearly the better spot as the morning sun hits it's slope first warming it and making it more enticing to chilly deer.

My BIL brought 2 rifles to hunt with to camp. Each had two stamps. One was a suppressed 10.5" BO with red dot. The other was a suppressed 14.5" 5.56 with a 1-4 scope. Neither had been sighted in. So the evening before opening day he's on the hunting property banging away trying to get a 28 yard zero. After about 20 rounds they're inconsistently on an 8.5x11 sheet of paper. Good enough he figures.

On opening morning some poor, stupid 4pt buck walks up within 8 yards of BIL and his 10yo. He let's the kid take the shot. It blew out his front right leg just beneath the body, knocks it down for a split second before it gets up again as a tripod and begins to hobble off. BIL shoots 3 rounds of 5.56 at it from about 15 yards, misses every shot. Finally switches guns with his son and gut shoots it at 20 yards. Deer drops and BIL immediately walks right up to it on it's downhill side. Didn't wait at all, at which point it stands up again. BIL points gun point-blank at it's vitals and blasts it which causes the deer to fall over dead on top of him. I could just barely see it happen from my position. Not that it mattered. He and his son wouldn't stop talking about how awesome it was and what great hunters they are. It then takes BIL over an hour of cursing at the top of his lungs, gagging and wretching to field dress the little thing. Then he drags it down the hill to the cabin. Meanwhile, nothing is going to even consider entering that valley for the commotion he's creating. His tirade echoed up and down that short valley. So opening morning is a total bust for me. That afternoon wasn't any better. I never saw a thing and normally this area is rife with deer.

I call my wife and tell her day 1 was a bust. She says, "no problem, stay Sunday night and hunt all day Monday. Things are fine here. Just get a couple of deer if you can."
Venison in various forms makes up about 95% of the meat our household eats.

So I talk to FIL and he says he's staying till Tuesday but BIL has to leave Sunday because his monsters have school. FIL is retired and doesn't have anything else to do until Thanksgiving day. Awesome! The circus is gonna leave town and I'll have over a day of peaceful hunting!

So Sunday morning rolls around and everyone sleeps in but me. I get out to my spot and things are picking up. I see some nice does on the opposite side of the valley but there was never a decent shot what with all the trees. Then I pick up on a couple of bucks not far from me. A real nice 8 pointer and a small 5 point. But they were well within the neighbors property and no matter what I tried they wouldn't budge from it and I wasn't gonna shoot across the property line.

Then I hear someone shouting my name from the cabin at the mouth of the valley. It's BIL calling me at the top of his lungs. The bucks move off never to be seen again. I grab my gear and shamble my way down the snowy slope to the cabin to see what the emergency was. He wanted to know if I wanted breakfast and how I liked my eggs. I had to stop myself from spazzing. Fuck it. I'm here. I might as well warm up, eat, drink some coffee, and head back up to coax some deer in. I'm officially half way though my 3 day hunt but things are finally picking up and BIL is about to leave with the kids. Then I look around the cabin and see everything is packed up. Everything but my stuff. I ask my FIL if he's leaving. Yup. Just up and changed his mind. He's preparing to lock up and go home. Hunting season is over. I packed up my shit and we all left.

$160 nonresident deer permit for 1 days of hunting and dealing with utter incompetence. But it's not my land so I'm not about to complain about it to them. If they had just told me ahead of time BIL was coming with his kids I'd have shuffled my schedule and gone to my family's place instead. But, no. They let me buy the permit and walk right into the shit show and only gave me about 12 hours of fruitless hunting for it.

I will never make that mistake again. From here on out my side of the family comes first. They can keep theirs.

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This thread is depressing as hell, but really not that surprising. Lots of scum in the outdoor industry.

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Two co-workers spent thousands of dollars on a guided wilderness bow hunting trip for Elk.....I'm talking pack animals and the whole ten yards. Years in the making.

One of them thought it would be a great idea to drink out of one of the streams on the way to camp.

By the time they set-up camp the guy that drank from the stream was very ill. They stayed over-night then packed-up and took sick guy out and he spent 10 days in the hospital. Whatever it was damn near killed him.

End of hunt.

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Still planning a DIY North Dakota Duck Hunt next fall.

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Well, I kicked a guide and his out of state clients out of my duck blind once.

When I was in college I leased a blind with my father and a family friend. The blind was one of a number on a large property near Truman Lake in MO. The guy we leased from asked us to call or text him when we would be coming down and nobody thought anything of it.

The spot was the best on the property and we always shot a lot of ducks, but usualy hunted the weekends due to work and school. I finished up a paper early and had a rare weekday off work so I grabbed my little brother and headed to the blind. Walking in we see the decoys are out and hear some calling. I assume it’s our family friend and call out to him and approach the blind and open the door.

It was a real surprise when I see four heads turn and look at me. Out they pour followed by the property owners buddy who we knew worked as a guide.  We exchanged words and they left pissed off with the clients bitching how they paid a bunch of money to get run off all weekend and not shoot ducks. We hunted our evening hunt and shot our limit a little before end of shooting hours.

The property owner meet us at my truck and we exchange some words.  Mostly how we didn’t say we were coming down and that since he owns the joint he reserves the right to hunt any of the blinds and let any of his friends use them when he wants. Said he was mentoring the kid and he was getting skunked hunting the public land so they came over to use our place since we rarely hunt the week days.

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Skip ND and go to Manitoba, Saskatchewan, or Alberta.  
ND has really really lost it's luster.  Way too much non resident pressure, especially if it is a wet fall where farmers cannot get crops out, like what happened this fall.  The less crops out, the more roosts get hunted; the more roosts get hunted, the faster the birds leave or go where nobody can hunt them.  Can you still have good hunts?  Sure; but it's nothing like it was 10-15 years ago.  I know a lot of guys from MN and WI that had horrible hunting in ND this fall, yet smashed the birds in their home areas due to flooded grain fields being prevalent.

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A few days ago, I got a good shot on a trophy whitetail and sent a pic to one of my friends.  My idiot friend showed the text to some autistic fucktard he insists on having around even though I tell him that the guy is tool.

The tool actually gets on an internet forum asking if he should turn me in because I took a shot 10 minutes before daybreak!

Now, I have both of them blocked.

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North Dakota self DIY duck and pheasant hunting.  The place we were staying at was like a bed and breakfast that sat on something like 5000 acres that.  By staying there you get permission to hunt anywhere on that acerage (This was our 3rd year ther) . That is until the owners 18 year old son decides he's a guide all of a sudden.  Fucking guy came flying thru the field in a pickup towards our group, almost running over one of my dogs.  Makes an uncased loaded gun readily visible and starts melting down.  Screaming that we're trespassing and he's going to start shooting if we don't leave immediately.  We decide to just head back to the B&B to discuss it with the owner.  He didn't believe us.  Started packing up right then and there because I refuse to be around people that unstable even if they were all show and no go.

Ended up staying at some shitty restaurant/hotel with a huge Sandhill Crane statue outside of it.  First night there I was having a glass of wine with my steak.  The waitress sits on my lap and takes a drink of my wine!  I was like WTF.  She then says loud enough for everyone at the table to hear "let's get the rest of the bottle and head to a room for some real fun. "  Uh, lady, I'm married.  "So what.?"

Paid my tab and left.  The last part was obviously not a hunting disaster,  just more of a WTF is wrong with the people in that State lol.

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This morning I got up at 5am to get ready to go hunt, get breakfast, and coffee going.  I knock on the door to multiple rooms, one stirs.  I turn FOX News on really loud and start back talking all the news stories calling democrats this and that at the top of my lungs.  Then I escalate to going in the rooms and shaking individuals awake.  That was a bold move and I am glad the hookers left at 4am according to the Mexican National hunters we are hosting right now.  I didn't know they brought a bunch of hookers here last night.   One of the other guides said they were NM 3's.  I am not cool with this shit as I live on the ranch with my wife and teenage daughters.  I have a very low opinion of assholes that cheat on their wives.  I do want to get these fucking assholes gone as soon as possible, but they may not get up in the morning and they can not stay after the morning hunt because we have another group coming in.