I don't know about dumbest, but my most embarrassing moment came on a black bear/moose hunt near St. James Bay in Southeast Alaska. On day 3, after having dehydrated myself over the last couple of days, my plumbing was seriously backed up. I figured I'd just eat a huge breakfast (lots of greasy bacon and eggs), drink a lot of water and black coffee, go hunt and things would work themselves out, if you know what I mean.
So, fast forward an hour or so. I had already made it about 1 mile up the river I was hunting. I should mention that I was wearing chest waders, as I had to cross the river at least a dozen times. At any rate, I was nearing a spot where I had seen a large blackie the day before, when I felt some serious rumbling in my gut. Uh oh. The time was nigh. Hallelujah! I dashed over to an old downed spruce, threw my pack and bow on the ground and undid my waders. I really needed to take them off completely, but there was no time. I'd just have to hold the top and suspenders out of the way and hope for the best.
After nearly blacking out initially, my business went surprisingly well, not nearly as violent as I was expecting. I was quite satisfied, if I do say so. I sure felt a lot lighter, like a heavy load was lifted off my mind. I was a new man. I digress, though. Back to the task at hand, for as they say, the real work begins when the game is on the ground.
When I dropped my pack, it toppled over away from me and was just out of reach. I really didn't want to move. If I stood all the way up, I risked having a wayward strap come in contact with something that probably wouldn't wash off, not without some industrial strength cleaning agent. So I used a little stick to fish a strap toward me. Closer, closer, almost within reach...Of course, right about then I started to get a serious cramp in my hip flexor. I was going to have to stand up.
With the top of my waders pulled as far in front of me as I could get them, I stood. The cramp subsided, and I took a breath to collect myself and survey the situation. Standing, while easing my cramping hip, had, unfortunately, caused quite a, how should I say this delicately, quite a mess. This wasn't going to be a typical, 4 sheeter. I might just need a whole roll, so, where was that roll?
Keeping mind not to dangle in the doo, I waddled over to my pack, zipped open my toiletries pocket and retrieved... nothing. It wasn't there. Uh oh, is right. I just knew I packed some TP. I rummaged around in my pack for something else suitable.
Some gauze wrap? No, too porous. My extra pair of wool socks? No, I'd rather not. My spare t-shirt? No. A space blanket? No, I'd just smear myself even worse. My Micro Fiber Miracle Towel? Perfect. It then dawned on me that I had a better solution right beside me. A nice, cool creek. Well, it was more of a raging river, but what the heck. It would definitely get me cleaner and I wouldn't have to bury something, or tote around something foul for the rest of the day.
So, I took off my waders and pants and stood at the edge. Man, did that water look cold. I dipped a toe. Man, that water WAS cold. Way too cold to stand in for long. I needed a good rock to stand on. A good, flat rock. I found just what I was looking for and assumed the position. Hoping a few quick splashes would be sufficient, I held my breath, and hovering as close to the water as possible, began. HOLY MOLY! What a shock to my system! I bolted upright. Screw that! I'll use the towel. As I took a step of my perch, the rock I was stepping on to, rolled, and with it went any hope of my staying dry for the day. I fell, rearend first, into the frigid water. It took my breath, it was so cold. I floundered around like, well, a flounder, or halibut, I guess I should say, for a few moments and, gathering my footing, scrambled onto the bank. I had to lay there for a second.
Whew! Not what I had planned for that day. At least I was clean now, or clean enough. No way was I going back in that water. As a side note, we all know about shrinkage, but let me tell you, there is a condition that I now refer to as "full retreat". It's not pleasant. Anyhoo, my day's hunt was over at that point. A nice fire and a few cups of hot tea warmed me up quite nicely.
A few hours later, back at base camp, my hunting partner walked up.
"So, how'd your day go?" he asked.
"Well..." I still havent' answered him.
Topic: What's the dumbest or...? (Read 1284 times)
