what kind of weird hunting and fishing stuff did you do in college

[Gellar]

College buddy lived on the back fringes next to a golf course. Late season geese would always flock to the gc ponds. He’d leave popcorn on his front porch and “help” cull them with his pellet gun. Always had a smoker of goose jerky going in the backyard.

I got banned from the university golf course for gigging frogs.

 

[Wild Bill]

Cut a spruce down out of someone’s shelter belt for a Christmas tree and hung it on the ceiling.
(edit: better pic)

 

[Art Vandeley]

Not college but high school, me and a couple friends were duck hunting. We got one duck in the morning and then it got pretty slow. Somehow we ended up using the duck as a football throwing it to each other up and down the beach. We were in the middle of this when a game warden walked up on us out of nowhere. It was very awkward for a little bit

 

[rtraverdavis]

I discovered that fly fishing and weed don’t mix, at least for me. I vividly remember standing in a riffle on the Truckee River, watching my Adam’s Parachute float downstream, but then noticed the way the trees backlit in the afternoon sun reflected on the water were like a window into a different dimension, and that if I could only reach through that window with the fingers of my mind I would be transported there and meet my other self. And would I even like me? What would I say? I probably wouldn’t need to say anything, because I’d already know what I was going to say, right?

And then my line would be dragging straight downstream, hung up in the rocks. Every. Frickin. Cast.

 

[OntarioHunter]

After being discharged from the Army I was rated 20% disabled which qualified me for a lucrative rehab program. The VA paid my books and tuition to any university in the world that would accept me. In addition I received $330/month allowance. Pretty good deal for mid seventies. Summers I worked fires for the USFS and '77 was a good year for that. I made enough money to by a couple of horses, trailer, and all the tack needed for packing out my elk. Dad wasn't happy about it but I assured him the VA benefits should be enough to pay their keep and mine while I was at U of Montana. If it wasn't I'd get rid of them. And it was enough ... almost. I kept the horses at a friend's in-laws place in Florence. March of the second year the hay ran out and I had to buy more when price was highest. It shot my budget all to hell. Dad showed up a couple weeks later when my brother's GTO blew its transmission and they came down to pick up another one at a junkyard in Bonner. "Son, you don't look so good. Are you okay?" Yeah, don't worry. He had suspicions and went to check the kitchen. The only thing he found was a loaf of cheap unsliced bread from Albertsons across the street, about 3/4 lb of hamburger, most of a box of Cheerios, and four cans of Rainier beer ($0.99/6-pack). "You need groceries! Are you starving yourself to feed those damn hay burners?" I explained to him the authorities would lock me up if I starved my horses. It's not against the law to starve myself. He took me to lunch and then I had to go to class. When I arrived at the apartment that evening there were four bags of groceries waiting. It got me through to the end of the month when my hero check came in. That was the only financial aid from my parents through three degrees.

Edit: Dad didn't see any milk in the fridge. "How do you eat Cheerios without milk? Wait ... NO ... not that!" Actually Dad, beer and Cheerios isn't too bad ... but the farts are WICKED. He was not amused. Milk or beer ... what's a college kid to do?

 

[rjthehunter]

Used to catch piles of fish then clean them in the bathroom of the dorm.

Also used to kill ducks & geese daily before class, I would clean them on the tailgate of my truck before going in to the building for class and washing up! Got a lot of weird/disgusted looks as I was tearing into a goose as people walked by to get to class!

 

[hank4elk]

6 of us rented the Ranch on the edge of town. 3 of us Nam vets and a couple friends. Kirk & I did const work and they went to Poly.
Little Jack had been at Poly for 6 years "working" on his degree . He had 2 SS numbers and knew how to work the system for what was considered a handicap then, being a midget. He was the sound man for local bands and events. The reason we sat on the stage during Doobie Bros and Little Feat concerts. The guy was a chick magnet.
The rest of us were big guys and provided cover at times.
I remember waking up to laughter out in the wood fired hot tub and Jack would be out there with 6 Poly Dollies...LOL.

Trout in the creek through the place. Blacktails & wild pigs and turkeys.

Mark was a Vet Gyreen and the banker when he graduated. He had a different side too. He could get very weird at parties and CR and I would have to talk him from going off on someone who made light of our service.
One night a jock was dangling by a foot in Marks hand over the rocks in the creek from the bridge. He just missed the rocks when I told him to let go of the dude.

CR had a bad time at times after the war, but Mikki Sue kept him in line. He was a grunt and always gave me a hard time.

I was drinking in those days hard and Mark & I would go to bars a lot and I'd get into fights.
Never lost and was very lucky. I got one warning about my behavior by a cop buddy. He knew my handy work....my, skills.

I moved out when CR went off on me one last time and I returned the favor. I moved out & quit drinking soon after.
Last time I saw CR I was in uniform with a badge at the park. 20 years later.
I told him I would stay out of trouble the last time I saw him when I moved out and he said that was a full time job for me. He had become a buddy of my brother and was still riding me.

He apologized for treating me so bad back in the day. Saw me in the uniform and said I made good after all. I apologized for breaking his nose and giving him a hard time. He got a state job soon after.

The last time I saw the gang was at Kirks funeral 20 years ago. He died of cancer and we drifted his ashes out in Spooners Cove. There must have been 2 hundred folks there that day.
I gave a little speech remembering the giant redhead from SB who could surf with the best of us and the night he shot a rabid skunk in the ranch house with a 357...6 times.
We rolled it into a sack and a box & threw it into the back of my truck and we drove to the sorority house and he dumped it in the hall while we watched the Dollies run out in their nighties...., him carrying a cast iron tub up stairs on his back on jobs.

Mark was there and is the president of the bank now.
CR is a pshyc tech at the State Mental Hospital. Still lives with Mikki Sue.
Little Jack is still doing the sound man gig.

That cop became a LT in local force, then my county commissioner for a few terms. We remained friends.
We never spoke of my dark side and I'm glad I listened and the statute of limitations has run out.
He gave a moving speech about what we make of ourselves just mentioned the Ranch gang and the parties. The roads blocked and all LEOs on scene...lol.
And what Kirk had become, a giant red head surfer hippie plumber who touched hundreds of lives.

Sorry, I just went into a good place. Back at Buckley Ranch.

 

[antlerradar]

Chances are that your dad and I hoisted one together at some point ... maybe even shared a fishing hole, as well as a keg! 60's were my college-fun years era also. Graduated MSU and Bobcat Army ROTC in 67.
Most of us were motivated to maintain passing grades because if not, then likely get drafted. Oh well; spent two tours in Vietnam anyhow, but at least I was able to train and do something I preferred over there.

Dad was there in I think fall of 62, and spring of 63. Medical knocked his draft number way down.

 

[elkduds]

6 of us rented the Ranch on the edge of town. 3 of us Nam vets and a couple friends. Kirk & I did const work and they went to Poly.
Little Jack had been at Poly for 6 years "working" on his degree . He had 2 SS numbers and knew how to work the system for what was considered a handicap then, being a midget. He was the sound man for local bands and events. The reason we sat on the stage during Doobie Bros and Little Feat concerts. The guy was a chick magnet.
The rest of us were big guys and provided cover at times.
I remember waking up to laughter out in the wood fired hot tub and Jack would be out there with 6 Poly Dollies...LOL.

Trout in the creek through the place. Blacktails & wild pigs and turkeys.

Mark was a Vet Gyreen and the banker when he graduated. He had a different side too. He could get very weird at parties and CR and I would have to talk him from going off on someone who made light of our service.
One night a jock was dangling by a foot in Marks hand over the rocks in the creek from the bridge. He just missed the rocks when I told him to let go of the dude.

CR had a bad time at times after the war, but Mikki Sue kept him in line. He was a grunt and always gave me a hard time.

I was drinking in those days hard and Mark & I would go to bars a lot and I'd get into fights.
Never lost and was very lucky. I got one warning about my behavior by a cop buddy. He knew my handy work....my, skills.

I moved out when CR went off on me one last time and I returned the favor. I moved out & quit drinking soon after.
Last time I saw CR I was in uniform with a badge at the park. 20 years later.
I told him I would stay out of trouble the last time I saw him when I moved out and he said that was a full time job for me. He had become a buddy of my brother and was still riding me.

He apologized for treating me so bad back in the day. Saw me in the uniform and said I made good after all. I apologized for breaking his nose and giving him a hard time. He got a state job soon after.

The last time I saw the gang was at Kirks funeral 20 years ago. He died of cancer and we drifted his ashes out in Spooners Cove. There must have been 2 hundred folks there that day.
I gave a little speech remembering the giant redhead from SB who could surf with the best of us and the night he shot a rabid skunk in the ranch house with a 357...6 times.
We rolled it into a sack and a box & threw it into the back of my truck and we drove to the sorority house and he dumped it in the hall while we watched the Dollies run out in their nighties...., him carrying a cast iron tub up stairs on his back on jobs.

Mark was there and is the president of the bank now.
CR is a pshyc tech at the State Mental Hospital. Still lives with Mikki Sue.
Little Jack is still doing the sound man gig.

That cop became a LT in local force, then my county commissioner for a few terms. We remained friends.
We never spoke of my dark side and I'm glad I listened and the statute of limitations has run out.
He gave a moving speech about what we make of ourselves just mentioned the Ranch gang and the parties. The roads blocked and all LEOs on scene...lol.
And what Kirk had become, a giant red head surfer hippie plumber who touched hundreds of lives.

Sorry, I just went into a good place. Back at Buckley Ranch.

The characters sound like something from an early Springsteen song. Happy New Year to you and Rio.

 

[p_ham]

I joined the army instead of going to college. I mostly hunted split tail. By the time I made it to trade school I was married. Predator becomes the prey.

 

[MarvB]

I remember our freshman orientation, party on the beach all night followed the next day by a concert in the football stadium. Humboldt Bowl… field nearly completely surrounded by redwoods. Bluebird day (for the coast) we snuck in early to get right up by the stage- was Carlos Santana, Eddie Money, and Elvin Bishop that day, the three of us (never even went to bed the night before) laying on blankets with botjabags of wild Turkey, Jack, and southern comfort. PLOWED!

Look up and there is a plane buzzing overhead towing a banner saying “Go Jacks!” Then three guys bailout and pull chutes… two of them drift ever so slowly onto the field. My buddy says hey, wasn’t there another dude at some point? Everyone’s like WTF is going on?? Then we see the guy hanging from his chute on the fence around the tennis court that was up above the stadium. Funnier than chit at the time, nobody even moved off the field to help, bunch’s of drunks rocking out just staring lol.

 

[OntarioHunter]

In high school, two of us launched a canoe on the local sewage lagoon to shoot ducks. Makes me shudder to think back on that one.

I suspect many honkers I've shot in our local grain and corn fields were also turd herders from the city's treatment ponds. I try not to think about it. Just add extra garlic powder to the marinade and all is well.

 

[OntarioHunter]

My alma mater has a community service requirement for all new students. Reason for this is reparations to the town for a long-ago crime committed by a student. We were told that some jackass shot a dairy cow and then dressed it out in the dorm shower.

Good grief! Did he survive the alcohol poisoning?

 

[OntarioHunter]

talk about holding a grudge, wow.

More like preventative maintenance.

 

[Goodfish]

When my dad was in college he had a collection permit and a job harvesting and mounting birds for the new college wildlife museum. He was probably the only wildlife major that could legitimately tell you what most of the western song birds tasted like.

 

[LuketheDog]

Chappino parties with grilled ablies and salmon we caught locally too.

The BBQ was usually a whole wild hog on a spit.

When I lived in Fremont Hall we'd round up the whole 1st floor men's side and whatever girls we could and drive over to Morro Bay for party boat fishing, or up to San Antonio or Nascimento for bass fishing, what a riot that was! We did the clam thing at Pismo too, but I doubt half the guys knew how to look for the ones enough to really eat, we had nothing on the chowder at Splash Cafe

 

[SimpleMan]

I had to strip down and retrieve a goose from a treatment pond (I didn't know what it was, just smelly and awful mud). A guy in a house nearby was laughing hysterically, saying that's sh!t and I ain't sh!tting you. he did let me use his hose to rinse off. My chesapeake wanted nothing to do with that goose and it was odd as he was a solid dog.

 

[Bill Zent]

My "college of learning" was being outside almost daily observing habits of animals and/or hunting them. A person can learn a lot when living in an area surrounded by big game. No need to waste time in a so called place of higher learning.

 

[Benfromalbuquerque]

More like preventative maintenance.

That it was because I think the cow was shot in the early 80s. I was there a couple decades afterwards. It’s a small town with a decent aged population. Folks really appreciated having free labor shoveling, fixing fence, painting.

 

[antlerradar]

I did lots of shed hunting. Back then people thought that was weird. Kind of wish they still did.