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Grand poopa
Dec 9, 2000
Boise, Idaho
OK, HEre's the deal... I only want STORIES posted in this thread. NO comments or suggestions. JUST STORIES...
Here's the RULES.

1.Put a NUMBER in front of your post and that will be the number people "VOTE" on. The numbers will progress as the stories go on.

2. You can Enter AS many stories as you want!!! We are just looking for GOOD CLEAN hunting stories. We hope that they are true..

3. # or words...I would say 100-200ish I don't have time to read 48 1000 word stories get creative, let it flow! ie. the big, full bodied, tawny-colored, mass of a mountain cat...

4. SPELL checker Mandatory. (Therefore I won't enter it )

5. 12PM MArch 1st is the LAst day that entries will be accepted. I will lock this thread after that. We will tell people how to vote and How long they have to vote on March 2nd.


1.Any Comments made that's not a story I will NUKE out ofthis thread. I want JUST the stories to go in here and The stories have to be in her to Win. I don't want to have to Search 10 different threads to read them


I will give the Winner a Cap, A cammo Fanny pack and a 20$ gift certificate to outdoor outfitters store that we will have up and running tomorrow and we will try to get it in a Magazine for puplishing. Moosie can Pull strings TOO!!! (OR BUY MY WAY IN!! ).... Sounds Good??!?!!?!?

Just shooting from the hip here.

ALSO I don't want the Responsibility of Voteing. We will let Each person on the Forum Send in a vote After ALL the posts are in and we will give an Email addy for the Private voteing at that time!!

You can CUT and PASTE your story in here if you have already posted it. If you don't know how, MAke a post that says were it is and I will Eddit your post and Paste it in here for ya.....

REMEMBER, MArch 1st is the last day!!! so only 2 more days!!!

<LI> AKA Moose Hunter


#1 I Wish I could do THAT
JP was sitting in my office to discuss some issue related to his training plan. I notice his eyes looking behind me and they seem to be focused in one spot. I turned to look at what had caused him to have the dreamy look and looked into the face of my antelope hanging behind me. I turned to him and he asked what the story was and so I told him, while his gaze went from me to the goat. When I finished he looked at me and simply said, I WISH I COULD DO THAT with a lost feeling emitting from his voice. I looked into his eyes and simply said WHY NOT. He looked at me and frowned and said there’s just no way. His stare was directed more at himself than me because; the only movement in his body is his eyes and lips. You see JP has had MD since the age of 4 and has lived in a hospital or intensive care program for all his adult life. It has ravaged every part of his physical body completely, but his mind. He requires medical support 24 hours per day and lives in the local hospital. I told him that I felt that we could work it out and instructed him on what it would take to get a license and that we only have 5 days till they are do in Cheyenne WY G&F office. I also explained that he would have to apply for a handicap-shooting permit. JP was very unsure and said OK, but he still was wondering how he could go hunting and so was I. We got his application in the mail along with his handicap application. Three days later we received a call from the game and fish stating they would not allow him a permit because of his disability. This lights my fire and I call the G&F director and I ask him why they would turn down this person and he indicates it was a mistake and that it will be taken care of. Now we have to find a gun that can be operated by a puff and blow system. I start calling all over the country and get many helpful ideas and lots of it cannot be done. We finally find a device in Nebraska called an sr77 shooting rest that will hold a gun and can be operated by a joystick. Now we need to find some money for it and a gun that can be adapted to fit it. The local gun club puts up the $850 for the sr77 and a local gunsmith takes a 250-3000 and cuts the stock off to fit the device, at no charge. We have already received permission from a local ranch for access for his antelope hunt. The gun is modified and ready and yet we still have not had delivery of the rest and we are only 2 weeks till the season. JP is getting nervice and is starting to think that this was a bad idea. We finally get delivery 2 days before the season with a supper modified version of what we had hoped for. They could not make a puff and blow work so we ended up with a joystick and bight switch for firing. JP’s body would not stay erect well enough behind the scope so I held him in place while another guy ran the joystick. We went to the range to give it the test the morning of his hunt. It was about 40 degrees and foggy and we had JP rapped from top to bottom. I put up a paper antelope archery target and we got JP lined out, he gave us signals up/down and left/right and when he was lined up I handed him the switch to bight. He had never been close to any gun being fired, and the look on his face was of pure shock. When we looked at the target it was in the heart. He fired 2 more rounds and was ready to go. We were given a van to use by another disabled person and a hospital nurse went along to take care of him. We reached the ranch and met the manager Brad and headed to a part of the ranch that they had reserved for JP. The weather was rainy and overcast, which made it so muddy that it took all three of us to get his wheel chair in position. The wind blew 20+ all morning and we were able only to get within 300 yards. JP did try a shot but the wind made it to hard for him and us to stay still. We checked out several bucks and were just not having any luck. Late in the afternoon the wind died down and the sun started shinning bright, which warmed our bodies and spirits. JP has limited endurance but was hanging in there, when he said a little prayer, just give me one good try and 20 minutes later we spotted a nice buck coming toward us. We get JP in position and the buck stops about 225 yards, and looks straight at us. JP starts giving the commands up/down/left/right and then says give me the switch, this ones going down. He bights the switch and the gun bucks and rocks in its mount and we see the antelope take off at a hard run low to the ground over the hill he was standing on. JP is having trouble getting enough air through his respirator and has to be suctioned before we can get him loaded and head to were the antelope went. He is bighting bullets all this time asking, do you think I got him and did I make a clean kill? We finally came over the hill and laying about 15 yards off the ranch road was JP’s goat, which turned out to be 14.5 inches. We almost needed to put sunglasses on because his smile was beaming so bright. Now we all know of being blooded and eating of the liver of your first kill, well I had a captive killer and I gave him a hard time and blooded his chin with the liver while pictures were being taken. Next we went to the taxidermist who had donated the mount for JP. Today his mount hangs in his hospital room, next to an 8x11 picture of himself taking a bite of the liver. He loves to say that it really grosses people out when they see the picture of him and the blood on his chin. JP success did not stop there though, because he can do more with his voice and a computer than most of us can even dream of. He now has a full time job as a programmer, owns his own van, loves traveling and enjoying life in person. SO IF SOMEONE SAYS I WISH I COULD DO THAT, STOP AND THINK WHY NOT. olefish
#2 A story of me and DAD--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the elk season of 1986 and I needed time to myself and elk hunting always seemed to offer me that chance of solitude. I was in the mountains East of Lovell WY next to the MT border. This was a brand new area to me, and a place I had never roamed. The season would start in 3 days and I was covering as much country as possible on foot. The nights were crisp and the seat of my old Chev truck felt good after the countless miles of scouting. I was pushing myself to hard thinking about dad and him not being around to share my stories with. We never got along until the last few years and you never miss what you have till it’s gone. He hunted and fish lots in his youth and was the best shoot I ever saw. I sat under trees and glassed the hills and valleys and talked to dad about myself, and how his love for my girls let me understand him in a new way. He was not a genital man but he let the girls romp through his newspaper like a puppy chews on its mom’s ears.
We never saw one elk but seemed to clear up lots of problems I was holding in my heart.
I was led to a new spot the day before the season and met a bunch of guys that were setting up camp. They opened their camp to me and said that I should join them. I had been a loner most my hunting life and could not understand why I said ok so easy. The next day I went out with 3 of the guys with the 2 horse they had for riding and packing game. We went in to an area unknown by me and headed toward a basin 5 miles off the road. We had covered about 2 miles when we met a packer with 2 elk and he told us that there was a heard of elk at the head of the basin meadow. We were off like a shot and cover those 3 miles in a matter of minutes. We saw cow elk in several places but just could not grow any bones on them skin headed cows. After looking for about one hour I was in need to strip down and cool out. So me and one of the guys stake out a place under this huge downfall tree over looking the meadow, and the other 2 take the horses about ½ mile across to the other side to watch. My ability to sit still was not any better than my kids, so after 45 minutes I start getting my shirt and coat back on and tell my new bud that I will kick around some and see if I can stir up some action and for him to keep his peepers wide open. I walk around behind the tree and to my surprise there lies a spike elk that had came and fell over dead while we were sitting on the other side. I let out a yell “there’s a bull elk” and he says shoot it, and I say no time. That’s when My dad came out in me cause he was worlds best rascal. I always carried a green river knife with a 12 inch blade on my hip and I whip it out and stab it into the bullet hole were the blood is running out, about the time the guy looks around the tree. You could have driven a truck into the hole his mouth made, and he starts shuddering about you killed it with a knife. I tell him well I just did not have time to use my gun. I had a feeling that this bunch was not your real outdoors types any way and this just proved it to me. Well we get the elk dress and quarter about the time his buddies show back up. They look at the elk and want to know were we got it cause they never heard any shooting from were they were at. Their friend looks them in the eye and says, he killed it with his knife. They all get into an argument about the whole thing, while I just stand back and just smile a little. Well he gets his friends convinced about the GREAT ELK TAKEN WITH A KNIFE STORY; by the time we get back to camp. I believe that is the most I have ever been call sir in my life. I cut the back straps out and roasted them over the fire while sipping on something very smooth and let their minds go wild over a guy they new as ole. I left at dawn the next day leaving them with a memory and me a story.
I learned that hunting alone was not all it was always cracked up to be and that if I was going to share my dads sense of humor and wit I could not do it alone. I still communicate with dad to let him know how the girls and I are doing and to say thanks for the memories. olefish
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