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My first overnight camping trip as a newly enrolled Boy Scout was a total disaster.
The Scoutmaster was an alcoholic who managed to leave the food behind (he somehow managed to bring his bottle of whiskey) and the assistant Scoutmaster was a stand in for Mr. Wimple and had no outdoor skills what's so ever. Everyone thought he was a perv in disguise.
Anyway, an older more experienced scout had all the newbie city boys stand around him in a circle while he demonstrated his expertise in the care and safe handling of a double bit axe.
He raised the ax over his head and proceeded to take big chunks out of the log he was chopping on.
After about his sixth mighty swing, the axe handle came down minus the axe head and made a loud wonking sound as it bounced off the log.
The older scout took one quick look at the bare wood handle, dropped it, turned around, and ran as fast and as far away as he could.
The group of newbie scouts stood there dumbly wondering what was wrong with the guy and where in the heck did the axe head go to when the axe head came straight down between two scouts and plunged into the dirt.
 
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My first overnight camping trip as a newly enrolled Boy Scout was a total disaster.
The Scoutmaster was an alcoholic who managed to leave the food behind (he somehow managed to bring his bottle of whiskey) and the assistant Scoutmaster was a stand in for Mr. Wimple and had no outdoor skills what's so ever. Everyone thought he was a perv in disguise.
Anyway, an older more more experienced scout had all the newbie city boys stand around him in a circle while he demonstrated his expertise in the care and safe handling of a double bit axe.
He raised the ax over his head and proceeded to take big chunks out of the log he was chopping on.
After about his sixth mighty swing, the axe handle came down minus the axe head and made a loud wonking sound as it bounced off the log.
The older scout took one quick look at the bare wood handle, dropped it, turned around, and ran as fast and as far away as he could.
The group of newbie scouts stood there dumbly wondering what was wrong with the guy and where in the heck did the axe head go to when the axe head came straight down between two scouts and plunged into the dirt.
Fine skill demo except for the check head 1st for stability
 
If you are caught without a shotgun or bear spray, the best way to stay alive is to smile and nod in agreement until it goes away. Make sure it knows you never leaked anything about Bernie, that you aren't going to testify about anything, and that you never "dated" her "husband".
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This thread CANNOT die....I have spent too much time to watch it end here. The weather is warming up...we need more stories! New and old. Maybe we should have a NWF scouting/camping/fishing trip....then we'll all be creeped out together.
 
I'll try to find some 'strange stuff' this weekend!
Update: Found two already in the store - one was a tall blonde in a red tank top and (tight) athletic shorts dropping her camper off and another with great Daisy Dukes and a short top needing a boat flag!
 
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Years ago I met an old timer that had an old Dodge Power Wagon truck that was equipped with the railroad wheels front and back.
He used to travel on the old rail spurs crisscrossing the coast range near the Lincoln City area.
He used the truck to pull old growth cedar up out of the creek bottoms and made them into shakes with this cool old shake maker machine.
Eventually, the rotting creek crossing trestles fell apart and it wasn't safe to cross anymore.
 
I don't if this qualifies but when I was a kid I went out to Dewatto with my mom and dad and our dog.
Dad wanted to go deer hunting. Mom wanted to pick mushrooms and I wanted to go bird hunting (thus, the dog), so we all decided to make one trip out of it.
When we got to our favourite mushroom picking spot (because even though Dad was behind the wheel, we all know who was REALLY driving! :rolleyes:), we all departed in different directions.
Dad headed down the road to a spot he liked to sit in.
I took the dog and went over the other side of the hill.
Mom decided to pick the overgrown slash cut that we parked next to.
We had all gotten just far enough apart to where we couldn't see each other any more, when Mom stepped on a "soft" patch of the ground.
She thought it felt strange and backed off. Then tested it with her foot again.
Suddenly, "the ground" jumped in front of her and took off.
It was a nice big Blacktail.
She yelled for Dad, but he was long gone....thus, another year without a filled tag.
Dad said while he was making his way down the road, a whole covey of quail jumped out in front of him. He called for me but I was long gone, so he just watched them scurry across the road and up the hill, hopefully right into my sights (nope, I'm not that lucky).
Meanwhile, as I was cresting the following hill, I stopped for a minute to get my bearings and take a break (give the dog time to come back within range, too. Dam if that pooch didn't like to roam).
When I looked down, I saw something that gained my interest.
It was a Chanterelle!
Fortunately, my parents had drilled the fact into my head at a very young age, to always have a folded up bread bag in my back pocket.
Makes a nice "sumthin" to sit on so my butt doesn't get wet and/or muddy when I take a break, and they hold mushrooms really really well, too!
So out came the bag and I started picking.
Turns out I'd found an entire field of these things. I filled the bread bag (!!!) and went back to tell my mom.....that's when I found out about their adventures.
Later on, we went back to my spot and finished picking all the mushrooms.
Maybe not the strangest "thing" I've found in the woods, but definitely one of the stranger times I've had in the woods!


Dean
 

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