We live in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by large plots of woodlands . The owners of many of the adjacent properties are cool with us hiking on their land, and riding horseback as well. Last weekend my gf was riding her horse. When she returned from her ride she described where a tree had fallen, making her ride less enjoyable. She asked me to make the tree be gone.
Yesterday after work I grabbed my chainsaw and our three dogs and went hiking to the spot she described. It was about a 40 minute hike to the spot. The saw was heavy, the day was pretty warm, and the hike was mostly uphill. Nearing the downed tree, the dogs discovered a deer gut-pile. I guess archery(?) season just happened, now I have to keep the dogs away from the gut-pile.
I got to the tree area and someone else (the landowner, probably) had beaten me to the job. I guess he hikes the trail which my gf and I had blazed, so he did my job for me. I turn around and head home.
As I approach the edge of the meadow where the deer guts were, I realized the dogs were not right with me. I wasn’t wearing my hearing aid, so I hadn’t missed their noise. I saw motion up ahead through the treeline and assumed they were sampling the deer guts.
So, I walk out into the meadow, hot and sweaty, carrying a chainsaw, screaming, “LEAVE THAT FUCKING GUT-PILE!!” Turns out the dogs were behind me and the motion I had seen was a young couple. He had binoculars around his neck, so they were likely birders.
She grabbed his arm and they began backing away. I started to explain what had happened, when my dogs caught up with me and I told them to stay. The couple took off. I know I had scared them badly, and feel awful for ruining their venture into the woods, but I’d love to hear them tell people what they had encountered.
Good one! The pile of guts really clinches the effect.
I did NOT actually meet anyone during the following story, but I think it’s similar.
I walk a path through the woods every morning to get to my bus stop. It’s unlighted part of the way; I go down a steep hill and the first light pole is at the bottom. One morning, after the remnants of a tropical storm had passed through the area, I was on my way to work in pre-dawn darkness. Coming down the hill, I almost tripped on a few downed tree branches; it was very dark. So I began shuffling my feet to feel for obstacles.
Immediately I encountered a large spiderweb – with my face. I wiped off what I could feel, and then thrust my hands out in front of me to feel for more webs. But there was still webbing on my face and even in my mouth! I grimaced and moaned my frustration – I like spiders, but I really don’t like the possibility of spiders on my face.
Thus I emerged into the streetlight from near-total darkness: feet shuffling, arms sticking out in front, eyes mostly shut, moaning and grimacing.
If only there HAD been someone to see me – especially, say, some teenagers returning from a zombie movie.
Oh come on. After all that build-up the young couple ought at least to have been nekkid. (BTW, I don’t think you scared them badly - you did it pretty damn well!)
A couple of weeks ago I was on a weekend retreat. There is a path through the woods between where people sleep and where people gather. The path is pretty blind and a flashlight is needed. I was about to start down the path when I heard a terrible noise. There was the sound of footsteps shuffling through the fallen leaves, accompanied by a horrible, loud rumble. It was a monster! Kill it! Kill it with a sharp stick!
If you haven’t seen Dale and Tucker versus Evil, it is an awesome movie and has a scene just like that. The whole movie is based on that premise although the end results aren’t as favorable as yours.
My dogs recognize “gut-pile” as a bad word. Does anyone else here use that term? Nothing sucks as bad as having your dog come inside and heave up deer intestine all over the place.
When my gf came home last night she asked how my day went. I said “gut-pile” and didn’t have to say anything else.
Two years ago we gave a guy permission to hunt on our land, with the proviso that he take or bury his gut-pile. He forgot.We did not forgive.
He is a professor emeritus and often gets invited to speak at science conferences. Once, he was invited to speak at a fancy conference in Montreal.
Now, as well as being a scientist, he is also a very avid woodlot manager, so he decided to visit his cottage on the way to this conference and do a little chainsawing.
When he gets to the fancy hotel in Montreal where the conference was being held, he decides (being my dad) that he can’t leave his chainsaw equipment in his car - someone might break in and steal it! - so he decides to carry the whole lot up to his room. The easiest way to carry his outfit - helmet, fancy chaps, vest and all - was to wear it. Carrying his chainsaw. He would not, of course, dream of asking anyone at the hotel to carry his stuff.
Which he did, through the lobby filled with besuited conferencegoers. Apparently, this made somewhat of an impression.
His talk was well-received, but the thank-you card said something like “next time invite your wife and leave the chainsaw at home.”
I have a couple stories, and one that also involves deer.
Story 1) I took a weekday off after deer season to butcher a couple of deer that I had in my barn. Midway through, I hear someone come down our driveway. I thought it was my friend Mike coming to lend a hand, so I stepped out of the barn in my bloody apron and with a large boning knife in my hand. It was the FedEx guy delivering a package and his eyes were like saucers! To cap it off, as I was signing for the package my dog came running up with a foreleg in his mouth that he’d pilfered while I wasn’t looking. I couldn’t tell if the FedEx guy was relieved or even more horrified.
Story 2) I also live in the middle of nowhere, near the top of a very tall ridge. One night I noticed a car parked oddly in the road, aiming its headlights into the woods behind my house. I stepped outside and heard a couple of teenage voices from the road giving directions to someone stumbling through the trees. I happened to be wearing dark jeans and a dark blue hoodie, so I just crouched down behind a tree to see what was going on.
The teenager in the woods was heading my way, holding a Bic lighter in front of his face and thereby further degrading his night vision, so I waited until he was about 4 feet away and then in my deepest Clint-Eastwood-whisper asked “What are you looking for?”
I think I actually heard his bowels evacuate as he fled, and I found the Bic on the ground the next day along with an old spare tire that they had apparently been trying to roll down the steep road.
