This makes sense but also works in reverse, Hunting with out of shape people can suck when they can't really be of any help packing carrying a moose to the boat or spending all day in a raft.Oh, I also flat out will not hunt with super fit, go-getters. The kinda guy who insists on hiking 6 miles, when there's a much easier, half mile route. Nothing against em, but i'm a fat bastard & the only thing I hate more than someone spoiling my vibe, is the thought of me spoiling someone else's.
Several years ago a guy worked for me that was also my hunting buddy. I had to fire him for job performance. I figured I didn't want to be out in the woods with him and his gun after that. Didn't want to be the victim of an "accidental discharge".
stopped hunting with 2 different groups... both were pushing legal limits and I respectfully backed out. Still friends with some of them but not worth it to be afield with them.
You have a lot more patience than me.Back in camp I am enjoying an afternoon smoke, a fine cigar given to me as a gift by my father-in-law. I don’t often burn a $50. cigar but this seemed like a special occasion. Santa asks me if he can buy one off of me and I give him one just to be friendly (I still don't know him at this point). Not long after, my bud comes out of the tent and joins us outside, and notices the wrapper of this guy’s cigar tossed on the ground. So he mentions it and Santa comes back with a, “…Yeah yeah, I just set it there for now…” with major attitude. It’s like he thinks, he is the top dog and no one tells him what to do! REALLY. Long story short, Santa just leaves it there and goes on the late afternoon hunt. Would a normal person get pissy when asked to bend over and pick a piece of their litter, much less leave it to get blown to another part of the ranch. It was made very clear that the owners can't stand litter and would likely terminate my bud’s hunting privileges on this ranch for such a violation.
Just before the next evening hunt, Santa asks my bud if he thinks it will be cold that evening and my bud tells him straight up, “Yeah! We have clouds and moisture moving in, it will be downright cold.” This guy responds, “I don't think so” (why would he even ask then), and leaves without a jacket and wearing tennis shoes instead of boots. Guess what? My bud and I remained hunting until last shooting light, while this guy made the shivering walk of shame and was sitting in camp well before the sun went down. What can you say to a guy who ignores the obvious and returns to camp wearing shoes that are soaked and full of foxtails. I just shook my head. WTF? How cold was it? This cold:
Santa’s coffee cup had been left in camp from a previous trip and inside was a science experiment as he doesn’t do dishes or much policing after himself. So Santa just set's his disgusting cup down and picks up one our gracious host has there. Looking inside his old cup we’re thinking…that’s alien! Does he wash it this trip? Nope… not the new one either, not a single dish the whole trip. The alien is still growing inside it. There are numerous little things like this that by themselves are small but as they begin to stack up each tiny thing becomes increasingly annoying; and I am only highlighting a few of the things I noticed.. At the root of the problem is the whole absence of respect. Hear you are, on prime pig property free, with only the obligation to help out with a few ranch chores, and you’re pissing off your host and endangering his access to the ranch. WTF?!
Now the general idea is that in exchange for trespassing rights (given formally in writing) there are chores to be done. Santa was supposed to provide a gardening hose this trip…oops, forgot to get one. Really? Really dude?
Sunday night I’m smoking my last cigar (I packed 3 for the weekend) and Santa asks if he can bum another one off me. He got a definitive no. So now it’s our last night and we’re sitting in a circle discussing plans for the next morning…do we get up early and hunt or relax instead?. My friend & I decide to indulge our weariness and sleep in, it’s a long drive home and there are chores to be done in the morning…this third guy is on board with that, at least at this time. So we all hit the sack. I don't know exactly what time it was, but discussing it with my buddy on the ride home, we were awakened no later than 5:30 a.m. by a thundering sound coming from the tent next to ours. Gear being tossed back and forth, dropped, slammed, and then something with wheels being rolled across uneven ground and everything inside slamming against walls. No kidding, it was like thunder right outside the tent. Then car doors opening and being slammed shut, then the next trip... and finally this douche starts his truck. This douche didn't bother to try to keep the ruckus down at all, it’s like he was trying to be loud; no in reality, it's obvious he was trying to be loud. While he was treated with nothing but kindness and respect, I starting to hate him. My buddy has a whole list of things that need to be done before leaving the ranch and this guy walks up announcing that he is packed and ready to leave, well NO ############ING KIDDING. I know my buddy is beyond pissed, FINALLY! He doesn't even bother to turn around and look at Bad Santa, he just tells him, "Bye." I could not do that much…I just spit a mouthful of Scope at his feet.
So this guy is out the gate early to beat the holiday rush hour traffic at our expense. We are there going through the departure list and working our asses off to try and hit the road at a decent hour. There’s a lot of chores to break down camp, clean up the area and secure everything that requires attention on this property. My bud gives me a few things to do, and he checks the septic tank as it can be problematic. It’s literally a shitty job and he nets out some solid debris (by hand) that might clog it up. Then checks the inflow to be sure there are no clogs. Meanwhile I learned that this buddy of mine is keeping secrets from me, he has a hazmat cert to boot, behind all his other credentials; and he can sling shit with the best of them, literally speaking of course. During this disgusting little exercise in which I assisted, we discover that Bad Santa has put the wheel barrel away full of dried blood, fat and chunks of meat. Needless to say that after drying all weekend long, by this time it is rock hard.
We filled the wheel barrel with water and let it soak while we completed other chores. After a couple hours of soaking, it still took a ton of scrubbing to get it clean. Can you imagine the owners’ faces if they went to pull that wheel barrel outta the shed looking like that? Or found his bloody gloves left in the yard with the extension cord to the light used to process his kill left on the lawn? He didn’t even police his brass in the blind. I found a 30-06 cartridge smack in the center of the damn thing. Slob hunters upset me. I got no time for em. This could have resulted in an instant ban from the ranch for my bud. To top it off, on the ride home, my buddy tells me this was not the first time this douchebag had bailed early leaving him to do all the wrap-up work before being able to leave. We got a late start as a result and just as we are leaving Santa sends a text saying he’s already home…missed the traffic. Well lucky you! We can’t…we had to do your chores. Now all this time the food we’ve been eating were brought by my friend (he got the meals, I got the gas) and Santa said he brought grub too (which he put in the freezer and went untouched) but guess what…he took it all home when he left! So apparently slobs eat free too. I know my buddy would never post this or complain but HOLY BUCKETS, isn’t he being taken advantage of? I was so pissed I could spit…and I did. I don’t understand some people. Both guys post here from time to time and I think they should read some feedback from others. Am I outta line in thinking this asshat should be kicked to the proverbial curb or would you let it slide?
funny part is both of the mentioned groups I would go as far as saying were above avg when it came to safety, especially around firearms. But what they said and some of their actions were enough to make me uneasy to the point a trip wasn't very fun if you're spending time worrying about legal matters.Took a new guy first time hunting. Fidgety guy. Put him in a safe place where he is shooting down into dirt if he sees a deer. 2 hours in- kaboom. I can see what he can see and there was no deer. I asked him what happened. "Wasn't much room behind the trigger compared to my pistol, tried to open up the action but had to turn off safety, pulled trigger to see if the firearm had a problem because almost no space behind the trigger" OK so you you turned off the safety and pulled the trigger! I don't know if ever hunted again. I hope not.