Dumb things you done?

[Rich Coyle]

I'll start.
About age 70 or 71 I went to the recycle truck bed in Grants Pass where plastic bottles are gathered. Since all my life I have been fairly athletic I dropped into the six foot deep bed and threw out a couple dozen used one gallon milk jugs. These are used for bullet testing for fun. When I got ready to get out, I was not strong enough to lift myself out of the container! I thought I was going to have to call 911. Then I decided to go to the corner and try to walk up the end as I held myself against my feet. With great relief and effort I got out.

By the way, I joined a gym to regain my strength. I am not kidding myself. When I was young I weighed 150 and could curl my weight. Now, at almost 74, I will be happy if I bench press 150.

 

[26Reload]

Yes...that's sounds stupid...and at your age they weren't going to recycle you....
I am 50...tried snowboarding last year...maybe it was the year before..don't remember after having pounded my head into the ice...don't need to do that again...

 

[joep17]

I have done many stupid things in my life.
My "starter wife" was a prime example.
A dozen stupid f"gun trades.

But just last week on a flight from PHX to Calgary a 70 year old gent struck up a conversation. He told me that he tried sky diving for the first time that week. He said he lost his glasses but it was even funnier that another guy in the group lost his dentures during the jump. He had to wait until he got back to calgary to get replacements.

 

[Rich Coyle]

But just last week on a flight from PHX to Calgary a 70 year old gent struck up a conversation. He told me that he tried sky diving for the first time that week. He said he lost his glasses but it was even funnier that another guy in the group lost his dentures during the jump. He had to wait until he got back to calgary to get replacements.

Now that right there is funny.

 

[joep17]

Forgot to mention I was road racing Ducatis up until the track closed a few years ago. I "keeper wife" hated it and was the happiest person when the track closed.

The stupid thing I did was to accept an invitation to try ice racing from a young guy in our club.

A 51 year old trying it for the first time in a competition did not end well. I think it was 3 days before I could get out of bed. It was only 2 days when I tried snow boarding

 

[THEIS]

Hi,
Too many for any one single "time" to jump out as a clear frontrunner but I guess I would say volunteering to go clear a 2 mile section of unexploded ordnance off the coast of Israel so that a company could put pipeline on the sea bed to connect Haifa to Dor for natural gas.

Sincerely,
THEIS

 

[Country Bumpkin]

This is going to take a while . . .

I have my fair share, a lot of things in which I was lucky not to have ended up with a cast or more stitches than I got. Some of my stupid games did result in stupid prizes, apparently they don't give out trophies at the Emergency Room. I almost got my entire family kicked off our health insurance plan one fall when i was a sophomore in high school. I'm not a hell-raiser, never have been . . . I was actually voted Most Angelic as a senior in high school. I just seem to enjoy risky situations.

When I was 17 I received a very abrupt lesson in life-choices, taught over the course of 24 hours, I'll never forget.

Spring Break before I graduated from high school, I was working 2 part-time jobs and starting 3rd base on our baseball team, saving money to go on a trip to Ocean City with my friends. I had $1,600 saved for my trip. My Mom told me that she was going on a 4-day trip with her friends. Dad was going on a week-long sailing adventure. My Sisters were off at College, I was going to be home alone during Spring Break . . . and she literally winked at me . . .

It took me some time to figure out the gravity of the situation . . . and then the planning started.

I called up my buddies and told them that we were going to throw a party! Here we go . . .

We managed to get older brothers and shady uncles to buy us beer for the big event. I grew up not far from a lake that has a large 3-story Party Boat. Every Friday night starting in late Spring teenagers from the area would pay $5 entry fee and we'd awkwardly dance the night away playing games of teenage attraction. We schemed that we'd be able to meet some like-minded and adventurous party-goers at this event. Invitations and directions were given, the hand had been dealt. After the boat docked we all met back up at my Mom's minivan and started driving back to my house. Along the way we replayed our exchanges. It quickly became evident that a LOT of folks had been invited . . . and a lot would likely bring friends.

We decided we didn't have enough beer so we made some more calls, I forked over $150 and my buddies went off in search of more. While they were gone a steady stream of vehicles started stacking up on my parents 1/2 mile driveway and all over our sloped yard. I never really found out how many people showed up but the initial supply of beer, the 2nd batch and all of the alcohol brought by our "guests" was consumed in about the first 45 minutes. I never had a single drop . . . I was too busy with damage control.

At some point that night, the following events occurred.
- someone threw my Mom's cat off our front deck ($450 broken leg / cast)
- My friend Scooter hit me in the face with a piece of firewood because he thought I was the police coming after him in the woods with a flashlight (he looked lost and disoriented to me, there were no police . . . )
- Someone rolled my dad's garden tractor over the bank below the yard ($250 for new hood cover and smoke-stack exhaust)
- Someone drove my sportbike off into the woods (No damage luckily, but I was MAD, I saved for 2 years to buy that)
- My friend Dylan threw up all over our computer and keyboard (then locked himself in the main bathroom and passed out)
- Someone threw up in our other bathroom and hallway carpet (I don't think any of it made it to the toilet)

- Cleaning Supplies and a few rotating fans to fight the stench ($125)

Once all of the "guests" had been herded away and I got my friends back on their feet, they convinced me to load everyone in the minivan and go for a "joy-ride". There is an old logging road above my house, technically it's a Seasonal Use Highway with a 10 MPH speed limit. I knew the road really well, we used to shoot woodchucks along it. Even in the dark I was comfortable doing about 35 MPH on it but that pace really beats up a vehicle. That night I did a pass at 40-45 MPH. It was a lot of fun, lot's of hooting and hollering. They convinced me to take another pass at it, even faster. With my best friend Stevie hanging out the passenger window hollering like a banchee and my friends in the back bouncing around and giggling like fools, I made a pass that reached 50 MPH. With about 200 yards to go before hitting asphalt, Stevie popped back into the car and said he smelled something burning. I stopped . . . rubber. . . . We all jumped out, not one shredded tire, but two. Not just tires, but crumpled wheels to boot. We limped the van back to my house, stole a spare from my Dad's van and fell asleep. ($500 for two new wheels and tires).

The next morning, in a very sour mood, I was ferrying everyone back home in my Sister's car (buick Le Sabre with a big V6). Because of my frustration of blowing my savings, combined with my worries about the house damages and the anticipated discussion with my parents . . . . I wasn't really paying attention to my speed. I'll also admit, I loved how that V6 accelerated onto the on-ramp. When the state trooper pulled me over and asked me "do you know how fast you were going?" I truthfully replied "No Sir, I don't". He then asked if I would "like to guess?". I said probably about 90-95, but that I didn't know because "the speedometer only goes to 80". He laughed and gifted me with a $265 ticket for my shenanigans.

All told: $1,740 and a van-load of life lessons. Didn't go on a Senior trip with my buddies . . . probably for the best.

My Mom came home first, upon entering the house, seeing every door and window open, fans running, smelling of cleaning sprays and vomit, my cat thumping around with a cast, shiny new tires on the van . . . and my utterly beaten and defeated demeanor, she simply asked me two questions:
- Did I have fun?
- Will you ever do that again?

No and No. I never told them the events of that night, they never even asked.

 

[joep17]

LMFAO!
I may have had one of those as well
Well written

 

[Dosh]

Several years ago I loaded the toyhauler with all the necessities and took off at 0400 the next morning. Made the trip to the northern Az ranch to meet up with my hunt pals. It was a bit cold so I went to get a jacket. The jackets were put in the trailer by the wife and checked off the list by her. Yup, you guessed it, no jackets. Luckily I had several heavy sweat shirts and a camo rain suit. I learned to double check my list. joep17, I'm 68 and as soon as it's built, I'm going on the zip-line the Hualapai tribe is putting in next to their "Skywalk". The line will go from the top of the Grand Canyon to the bottom. Can't wait!!

 

[geo4061]

My little brother is a genius. First in his high school class and first in his class at college. We had gun hunted for years. One day he decided he wanted to start bow hunting. He went to our local sporting goods store and came home with all the equipment. One of the things that sold him on this new bow was the thirty percent let off at full draw. The manufacture saying that was not good enough for him. He had to verify it. He sat on the living room floor legs straight. His feet straight up with the bathroom scale facing him up against the bottom of his feet. With the bow in hand he leaned over and placed the bow string on the back of the scale. He would then lean back and pull while he watched the dial on the scale. The scale slipped off his feet and flew through the air. He was knocked out cold. Never did ask if the bow did let off thirty per cent.

 

[joep17]

Perfect Dosh!

I have a hunting buddy that I will call "Bair"
We have gone in a moose hunting trip for many years near the Simmoette river in northern Alberta.

We take our sled trailers, unload our quads, put cots in the trailers to sleep. Put up an outfitters wall tent to cook, and have meaningful discussions during the evenings.

2 years ago we get near our normal spot and the road was washed out.

"Blair" decided to look for a new spot to set camp. When a logging road turned off the O&G lease road, the first two trucks turned down. I tried to call Blair on the cell to say that does not look good but there was no cell service

After waiting an hour and no one coming back, I ventured down the trail. The first big hill, was slime. I slid all the way down with locked brakes to become fully stuck in the swamp at the bottom right behind the other 2 truck and trailer combos.

We had to unload all the quads, unhook my trailer and turn it around on a side x side. Pull it back up the hill with the machines. Then come back with 4 machines and pull my duramax up the hill backwards.

Then repeat with wades tailer then truck

Repeat with Blairs trailer and truck

It was just over 12 hours to get all units 1/2 mile away. A very long day.

From that day on, we call it getting "Blaired" rather than getting stuck.

However, I should have known as in the 25 years of hunting with Blair, he has always been overly optimistic on the things he tried to drive through.

Another time I will discribe his "attempt" to cross a muskeg at McClean creek on his quad.

A day later and 300 yards of rope we did get him back out.

Last year his moose ran down a ravine and died in a logging pile. Only 2 days to carry it out in 7 pieces to the nearest point we could get ATV's to.

5 years ago, he shot the moose I called in for him. It teetered and then then fell down a ravine. That was another 2 days of my life gone.

Nothing ruins a moose hunt like killing a moose hunt.

Maybe I need new hunting buddies? Naw, these are the messed up adventures we will be regailing at the nursing home.

 

[dmoon]

When I was 15 or 16 I was quail hunting along the creek behind the house. The dog crossed the creek so I followed. As I was crossing the creek I noticed a long nosed gar swimming down the pool so I took chase along the sandbar and when I caught up with it I swung the shotgun with one hand following the gar. When the shotgun went off water splashed everywhere, but the noise sounded funny.....I looked at the end of the gun and the barrel was bulged, I hadn't noticed that I stuck the barrel into the water. That was the beginning of my lesson about pressure. I didn't think it was as funny as Dad did.

 

[joep17]

Oh Dmoon
Your story reminds be of a couple of "situations" I have not caused but was party too. I had a teenage buddy Bob that a rain cloud floated over is head.

They moved from the city and bought a small farm near us. We quickly became shooting and hunting pals.

His dad was an avid hunter and shooter. As a poor teenager I lustrd over his dad's guns.

So #1
His dad bought a papered black lab from a respectable hunting breeder. When the dog was old enough, he took it to a trainer 4 hours away and had it professionally trained for 3 months prior to hunting season. The dad worked away in construction and would leave 4 am Monday morning and come home 9 pm Friday night.

Dad came home with "Lady" on a Friday night and promptly told all his kids not to throw a stick, try to get Lady to do tricks, basically just let her and not ruin the training.

So the dad leaves early Monday morning and we go to school. 30 minutes after I got off the school bus, Bob drives up in their farm truck with Lady sitting in the front seat. His first comment is that we should go try Lady out on the slough on part of farm.

We parked, quitely sneaked up will willows and when we stepped out the ducks started to fly. We dropped 4 mallard drakes and were really proud. Lady started swimming out and retrieving them. This is where it went sideways.

On her third drake, swimming back, the ducks came back to land. Bob was running at about 40 watts and they were coming back in, Bob shot. He hit Lady with pellets.

We had to take Lady to a vet 22 miles away and take 6 pellets out of her. The vet was friends with my dad and when she asked how much money we had, I think it was $37 between us. That was the charge.

His dad got back Friday night that week from work and on Saturday morning walked out the house with a shotgun and Lady ran and hid under the porch.

For the rest of the years they lived there, every time Lady saw a gun she would run and hide.

He never told his father........

 

[joep17]

# 2 Bob story

Around 1972 or 1973 his dad bought a beutiful Ithaca 20 gauge O/U. It was like nothing else we had ever seen in our ranching area.

It was the only gun Bob was told to never touch.

So again, the dad leaves Monday morning for the week. 30 minutes off the school bus, Bob shows up with the Ithaca and says one of your dad's sections has ruffed grouse and we should test it.

Bob was running at 39 watts that day.

He some how pushed the barrel into some muskeg. When the ruffy flew, he swung and the weirdest sound. A huge bulge in the barrel. I don't think his dad ever had fired a round through it.