Congratulations to Eric from Texas for winning the Humorous Hunting Story Contest!
We had a lot of great stories and it was difficult to choose, but we finally decided on Erics.
An Embarrassing Moment
There I was on the eve of the most anticipated day of the year...Bow Season Opener. I quickly woofed down some random fast food for dinner and then spent the night carefully preparing for the morning hunt and making sure all my gear was packed. A long sleepless night ensued with visions of Booners and broadheads.
The next morning, I awoke and quickly consumed the fast food left-overs for breakfast and off I went to hunt a large piece of public land acquired by the Department of Natural Resources. I carefully attached my climber to the tree and in no time I was perched 20 feet above the forest floor listening, watching and waiting. A small yearling began to slip through my shooting lane and I remained motionless...when all of the sudden a loud gurgling noise stopped the yearling dead in its tracks. I didn't move and then a tightening of my abdomen preceded another large gurgle. The yearling headed off with a snort that I could barely hear over a convulsing orchestration of gurgles, swirls and pops. These noises were the all too familiar sound of Mother Nature calling upon the previous night's dinner and bachelor's breakfast.
I slowly shimmied down to the ground and headed out to find a safe haven to deposit the fertilizer of tomorrow. The cramping in my abdomen prevented me from walking any longer and I was forced to answer Mother Nature's call. I assumed the position and braced myself against a nearby sapling for the purging of my dietary sins. The sounds obtained during that event have not been heard anywhere else in the natural world...but out of nowhere the sound of movement amplified by the frozen leaves caught my attention.
The animal making the sounds must have stopped since they were no longer audible...I wiped the labor- induced perspiration from my forehead and looked over my right shoulder...and standing approximately 30 feet from me was an entire Army R.O.T.C. class with compasses in hand and maps doubling as gas masks. I turned my head back around and their laughter could be heard even as they double-timed over the next hillside.