Here's some Dom wisdom for you...

[Homburg]

bearing in mind that i'm an eagle scout.. but i used to get teased for carrying most of the items you just mentioned in my bulky coat.

I have one of those vests with pockets everywhere, and I wear it when in the woods. It has that sort of thing in it at all times. Very, very handy.

besides, a blaze orange hat makes a shockingly effective cloaking device; after someone's hung out with you a couple hours wearing it, you can take it off and just about walk right up to them without them seeing you. Thats a trick one of my boyscout leaders used to use.

That's awesome. I need a blaze orange hat.

--

hehehe! thanks, Hommie.

Quite welcome, darlin.

 

[Puman]

I always suggest a emergency whistle when on any trail. If you happen to get lost, you can easily blow a whistle more effectively than you can yell or scream. Some well made packs even build them into the straps.

I also always suggest when out in the wild to wear bright colours like yelllow, red or orange. If, God forbid, something happens to you, you are easier to spot in bright colours than darkers ones like blue or green.

I also always pack *at least* five things on any hike: a headlamp, rain gear, woolen socks, extra water and iodine and an emergency blanket. I have been teased ruthlessly in the past for "over packing" for day hikes, but the few times I have been caught out in the elements, these things have saved my life.

*nods* and I never leave home without at least one and a half to two litres of water, no matter where I go... been stuck in the middle of nowhere enough to learn the hard way!

 

[00Syd]

All this survival stuff sounds alien to my urban ears. Carrying water around... but.. there is a deli on every corner...

 

[midwestyankee]

All this survival stuff sounds alien to my urban ears. Carrying water around... but.. there is a deli on every corner...

And everyone knows that the perfect food for an urban hike is a big old pastrami on rye.

 

[Homburg]

And everyone knows that the perfect food for an urban hike is a big old pastrami on rye.

I am perfectly fine with this. I can think of a trail or two whose natural beauty would not have been spoiled by a kosher deli sandwich stand nearby.

 

[00Syd]

And everyone knows that the perfect food for an urban hike is a big old pastrami on rye.

With lots of mustard! And regular breaks!

 

[midwestyankee]

With lots of mustard! And regular breaks!

Absolutely. Lots of mustard and plenty of breaks to browse the used book stores.

 

[00Syd]

Absolutely. Lots of mustard and plenty of breaks to browse the used book stores.

That sounds like a fantastic hike.

 

[Puman]

That sounds like a fantastic hike.

Then you could move the hike to a city like ...say... Johannesburg and a add whole new meaning to the word "survival"

 

[rosco rathbone]

Today's dominant man has an MBA, not a possum on a skewer.

 

[Kathykitten]

hm, never understand how that original thread started, seemed so out of the blue. Did "ivantheterrible" have some preset hate for the board or?

Seemed so very random ...

 

[SweetErika]

hm, never understand how that original thread started, seemed so out of the blue. Did "ivantheterrible" have some preset hate for the board or?

Seemed so very random ...

I think he has a preset hate for his life, actually. Look through the threads he's started - his marriage is dying, he seems to hate his wife, be cheating, overwhelmed and is perhaps suffering from mental illness.


Yank, do you watch Top Chef? I thought of you and the coincidence of all of the hot dog talk when I saw tonight's episode. The first challenge pitted the chefs' hot dog creations against NY's most famous hot dog vendor (or something like that).

I had no idea people spent $100,000,000 a year on hotdogs in NYC. Then again, I don't pay attention to hotdogs - my last one must have been around 1990.

 

[egoservitium]

Yup, I've faced down some seriously scary dogs, and a mean-assed horse or two (not bright, horse can squished me), but the most frightening animal encounter I've ever been in involved an almost 900lb pig that went feral. Wily, mean, and far more intelligent than people would ever imagine, the old bastard started sneaking around (and how a 900lb anything sneaks, I'll never understand) and killing other pigs, a few calves, a dog or two, etc. After a few weeks of this, and the boar avoiding and escaping a large number of traps, pits, etc (they're smart, and they will happily eat you, remember this), the farmers in the area organised a pighunt.

I was too young to be in it as a shooter, but I was old enough to ride it he back of the truck and look, as well as hand my mom ammo when she needed it. There was a shortage of guns though (yeah, NC mountains, and there weren't enough guns to go around,. Go figure.) so my mom got a .22 cal pellet rifle. She looked at it incredulously and asked what she was supposed to do with an airgun against the monster pig. "Shoot him on the tip of his nose" said my grandfather, dead serious.

Of course the fucking pig found us, and he charged the truck. My mom, former soldier, and a better shot than even my dad (though not as good as my granddad) shot him dead in the nose. The pig dropped his head in the dirt and stopped dead as if he'd hit a brick wall, about eight feet from the truck.

He got up and staggered off while they were calling for people with rifles. He was still dazed when they got him, and everyone had pork for dinner. Fucking pig looked to my young self (I was 5 or 6) to be as big as the truck I was in, and I was convinced that he was going to knock the truck over and eat me.

My mom was my freakin hero that day. She was cooler than Captain America, because she'd stopped the Monster Pig with a BB gun. Nobody even thought of messing with my mom after that incident, as the guy driving the truck pretty much screamed like a girl and about wet himself, while my mom basically said "Oh shit" quietly, and shot the pig without hesitation.

Pork never tasted so good, let me tell you.

Holy crap, what an awesome story! Thanks for sharing.

I landed in this thread following ivanthehorrible's nonsense and laughing at the responses. Watching that dissipate, and evolve into parallel threads about proper hot dog etiquette (and branch out to chili and gravy fries), and nature hikes and wild animal sightings was just too fun. i read every post, and almost forgot how I got here.

But this! I can see the headlines now: "Monster Pig Vanquished With BB Gun!" Damn! Awesome! Thanks again!

ES

 

[midwestyankee]

I think he has a preset hate for his life, actually. Look through the threads he's started - his marriage is dying, he seems to hate his wife, be cheating, overwhelmed and is perhaps suffering from mental illness.


Yank, do you watch Top Chef? I thought of you and the coincidence of all of the hot dog talk when I saw tonight's episode. The first challenge pitted the chefs' hot dog creations against NY's most famous hot dog vendor (or something like that).

I had no idea people spent $100,000,000 a year on hotdogs in NYC. Then again, I don't pay attention to hotdogs - my last one must have been around 1990.

Erika, I tried to watch Top Chef a while back when it was set in Chicago but I just couldn't get excited by the show. It's an interesting concept but it just didn't grab me. Like you, I don't eat hot dogs much any more. I went to Superdawg a year or so ago as a lark but that was probably the first hot dog I'd eaten in a decade.

 

[00Syd]

I restrict my hot dog eating to when I got to Coney Island. Anytime I got to Coney I HAVE to eat a Nathans hot dog, otherwise it just doesn't feel right. I rarely every eat them otherwise.

There is an amazing place in my neighborhood though called griff dogs, and I've been known to ocassionaly take out of towners there just to have an excuse to eat a chili cheese dog.

 

[Xelebes]

In Alberta, we have the badlands, the Rockies and the muskegs up north. I haven't done the muskegs yet but the moose are the most dangerous there. More dangerous than the black bears and wolverines.

 

[Peregrinator]

I really should come over here and post with you good people more often. I'm lazy, and that's really the only reason I stick to the GB. This thread is hilarious.

You guys, I totally get where you are going by bashing the hillybilly. I am down with that. But leave my Apps alone, ok?

While the Appalachain Mountains are not as tall as other ranges or as "rugged" as other areas, there are PLENTY of places in the Apps that poeple have recently walked into and never returned. The surge of black bears in recent years and the growth in population of wild cats and wolves all along the region are alone reason to not snub my regal home mountains.

I have spent months at a time on the AT (I lack just a short bit in Maine to finish the trail) and I can personally say the Appalachain Mountains are not for the faint of heart. Sure there are other places more "dangerous" and "forboding", but that shouldn't discredit the Apps.

Just remember, the area might unfortunately harbor such back-wooded cousin lovers, but its not the areas fault.

Thanks for speaking up for my home, Sweet. I did SAR in the Whites up in NH for a long time, and as you say, especially the Prezzies, they are dangerous mountains.

Might've been a local phenomenon, but the third one was a sound like a woman screaming. Scared the HELL out of me the first time I heard it. Hell, every time I've heard it. That crying baby thing is creepy too. They're scary critters.

Another wild animal sound that I dread is boars grunting and calling in the brush. Bad thing to hear.

The scream of a porcupine sounds a lot like a puma as well. It's pretty funny to see people react when they're used to pumas and hear a quillpig.

Yup, I've faced down some seriously scary dogs, and a mean-assed horse or two (not bright, horse can squished me), but the most frightening animal encounter I've ever been in involved an almost 900lb pig that went feral. Wily, mean, and far more intelligent than people would ever imagine, the old bastard started sneaking around (and how a 900lb anything sneaks, I'll never understand) and killing other pigs, a few calves, a dog or two, etc. After a few weeks of this, and the boar avoiding and escaping a large number of traps, pits, etc (they're smart, and they will happily eat you, remember this), the farmers in the area organised a pighunt.

I was too young to be in it as a shooter, but I was old enough to ride it he back of the truck and look, as well as hand my mom ammo when she needed it. There was a shortage of guns though (yeah, NC mountains, and there weren't enough guns to go around,. Go figure.) so my mom got a .22 cal pellet rifle. She looked at it incredulously and asked what she was supposed to do with an airgun against the monster pig. "Shoot him on the tip of his nose" said my grandfather, dead serious.

Of course the fucking pig found us, and he charged the truck. My mom, former soldier, and a better shot than even my dad (though not as good as my granddad) shot him dead in the nose. The pig dropped his head in the dirt and stopped dead as if he'd hit a brick wall, about eight feet from the truck.

He got up and staggered off while they were calling for people with rifles. He was still dazed when they got him, and everyone had pork for dinner. Fucking pig looked to my young self (I was 5 or 6) to be as big as the truck I was in, and I was convinced that he was going to knock the truck over and eat me.

My mom was my freakin hero that day. She was cooler than Captain America, because she'd stopped the Monster Pig with a BB gun. Nobody even thought of messing with my mom after that incident, as the guy driving the truck pretty much screamed like a girl and about wet himself, while my mom basically said "Oh shit" quietly, and shot the pig without hesitation.

Pork never tasted so good, let me tell you.

I think I just fell in love with your mom. Is that creepy?

I always suggest a emergency whistle when on any trail. If you happen to get lost, you can easily blow a whistle more effectively than you can yell or scream. Some well made packs even build them into the straps.

I also always suggest when out in the wild to wear bright colours like yelllow, red or orange. If, God forbid, something happens to you, you are easier to spot in bright colours than darkers ones like blue or green.

I also always pack *at least* five things on any hike: a headlamp, rain gear, woolen socks, extra water and iodine and an emergency blanket. I have been teased ruthlessly in the past for "over packing" for day hikes, but the few times I have been caught out in the elements, these things have saved my life.

Good for you. I've rescued a number of people who required it for the simple want of a flashlight. And I've recovered the body of at least one person who would have been fine had she had just a bit more clothing and food with her.

 

[SweetGigi]

Oh, don't even get me started on White Mountain. What a gorgeous area, but WOW fog! The prezzies were a highlight though. Growing up in NE TN, it was the only area that really reminded me of home the most.

Being on rescues with UMR, I learned quick being over prepared is far better than wishing you were in a bad situation. The only time I have ever been injured on the trail (two strained achilise tendons) was in the middle of March during a day hike. I took a mis-blazed horse trail and before I realized it, I was 4 miles away from the drop. It was sundown and had it not been for my headlamp, I would have never made it out. My rain gear gave me an extra layer to stay warm and my water and blanket gave me some comfort that if I had to sleep the night on the trail, I'd at least have a fighting chance. By the time I made it back to my truck, I was sore, hurt, and glad to be alive. Even the most experienced hikers can get turned around. Its just smart thinking to be prepared, ya know?

I'd really like to finish the Maine portion of the trail at the least. Having such a dangerous trek under my belt would certainly be a feather in my cap.

 

[Homburg]

Holy crap, what an awesome story! Thanks for sharing.

But this! I can see the headlines now: "Monster Pig Vanquished With BB Gun!" Damn! Awesome! Thanks again!

ES

Quite welcome. I have an... interesting family.

--

The scream of a porcupine sounds a lot like a puma as well. It's pretty funny to see people react when they're used to pumas and hear a quillpig.

That's hilarious. I had no idea. Never heard a porcupine make any sort of noise, wow.

I think I just fell in love with your mom. Is that creepy?

Nah, my mom is an amazing woman. Unfortunately, she and I are far too much alike, so our usual posture is somewhere between confusion and two bighorned rams fighting over territory.

Fun fact: She and my dad once got into a shooting match that consisted of trying to light a matchstick stuck into the top of a fencepost. Said fencepost was down the hill and at the far end of my grandma's "garden", so it was probably 40 yards away and lower elevation. They jammed a bunch of matchsticks into the posts and tried to see if they could light the stick by driving the bullet alongside the head of the stick with a .22LR.

Mom was pissed because she kept blowing the match heads off. And, no, I don't expect people to believe me when I tell that story.

It drives me crazy that the best my myopic ass can do is put smiley faces onto FBI targets at 20 yards. Whee. That said unlike my mother father, and grandfather before he died, I can read a book, computer monitor, etc without my glasses.

 

[Peregrinator]

Oh, don't even get me started on White Mountain. What a gorgeous area, but WOW fog! The prezzies were a highlight though. Growing up in NE TN, it was the only area that really reminded me of home the most.

Being on rescues with UMR, I learned quick being over prepared is far better than wishing you were in a bad situation. The only time I have ever been injured on the trail (two strained achilise tendons) was in the middle of March during a day hike. I took a mis-blazed horse trail and before I realized it, I was 4 miles away from the drop. It was sundown and had it not been for my headlamp, I would have never made it out. My rain gear gave me an extra layer to stay warm and my water and blanket gave me some comfort that if I had to sleep the night on the trail, I'd at least have a fighting chance. By the time I made it back to my truck, I was sore, hurt, and glad to be alive. Even the most experienced hikers can get turned around. Its just smart thinking to be prepared, ya know?

I'd really like to finish the Maine portion of the trail at the least. Having such a dangerous trek under my belt would certainly be a feather in my cap.

Yeah, for sure. I always teach my students that trail running carries much greater risks than they think. Sprain an ankle and then you're stuck out there with nothing but a water bottle, a pair of shorts, and maybe a shirt and sunglasses. Not good bivy gear.

Have you been as far as the Hardest Mile yet? That's a wild part of the world.

That's hilarious. I had no idea. Never heard a porcupine make any sort of noise, wow.



Nah, my mom is an amazing woman. Unfortunately, she and I are far too much alike, so our usual posture is somewhere between confusion and two bighorned rams fighting over territory.

Fun fact: She and my dad once got into a shooting match that consisted of trying to light a matchstick stuck into the top of a fencepost. Said fencepost was down the hill and at the far end of my grandma's "garden", so it was probably 40 yards away and lower elevation. They jammed a bunch of matchsticks into the posts and tried to see if they could light the stick by driving the bullet alongside the head of the stick with a .22LR.

Mom was pissed because she kept blowing the match heads off. And, no, I don't expect people to believe me when I tell that story.

It drives me crazy that the best my myopic ass can do is put smiley faces onto FBI targets at 20 yards. Whee. That said unlike my mother father, and grandfather before he died, I can read a book, computer monitor, etc without my glasses.

Yup. They tend to get close and then scream like a banshee. Pretty fun for those who don't know. Ungodly screeching wail.

That's some fantastic shooting. I've never come close to that. What a cool idea, to try to light a match like that.

 

[egoservitium]

Quite welcome. I have an... interesting family.

I guess! But uninteresting families make for uninteresting stories.

Fun fact: She and my dad once got into a shooting match that consisted of trying to light a matchstick stuck into the top of a fencepost. Said fencepost was down the hill and at the far end of my grandma's "garden", so it was probably 40 yards away and lower elevation. They jammed a bunch of matchsticks into the posts and tried to see if they could light the stick by driving the bullet alongside the head of the stick with a .22LR.

Mom was pissed because she kept blowing the match heads off. And, no, I don't expect people to believe me when I tell that story.

It drives me crazy that the best my myopic ass can do is put smiley faces onto FBI targets at 20 yards. Whee. That said unlike my mother father, and grandfather before he died, I can read a book, computer monitor, etc without my glasses.

See, this is where acquaintances tend to get confused about me. I am a tree huggin', pro-choice, gay friendly, Obama lovin' democrat, but I love guns, and think that the only reason we still have the first amendment is because of the second.

I have a couple guns, and go shooting with friends whenever the weather is nice and we can all afford ammo.

I had an issue with my savage bolt action single shot .22 where I stuck the bullet in and jammed the bolt home, but was moving too quickly and didn't have the bullet all the way seated and jammed it up pretty good. Bent the bullet enough that it had to be discarded as unusable.

On a whim, next time down range I set up that bent bullet about 35-40 feet from our shooting position and my buddies were laughing at my hubris.

First shot! Missed dead center of the shell by a tenth of an inch. The bullet is still in the shell, and there is a .22 sized hole just above the base of the casing. I kept it as a trophy.

My friends were pretty amazed, but I knew that I cold hit it ... I was just amazed that I got it first try

At my last job, I was just getting out when my boss' new boss was coming in. I wanted to pick his brain a little about my next job and asked him out for a beer. He was new to our town (a *very* liberal enclave amidst massive red state-ness), and was happy to get out and try a new restaurant.

He and I are opposites in just about every category you could name. He's VERY republican, very religious, very pro-life, very anti-gay; economically, politically, religiously ... opposites. We had a pretty open environment at work and we all talked about politics and religion and such all the time, so we knew where we each stood on most issues.

Nearly the first thing he said as he said as sat down was that my boss had mentioned that owned a gun.

"Yep, I have three. A Winchester 32 Special lever action rifle that belonged to my grandmother, a Colt .380 automatic that belonged to my great-grandfater, and a Savage .22 that I got from a friend and refurbished.

He chuckled and shook his head and said, "I'll never understand this town."

We talked for a couple hours about issues facing our industry and how I might take the next step in my career, but we also amused ourselves by listing our differences. We also noted that we disagreed rather wholeheartedly on those issues, and yet here we sat, over beers, chatting about it amiably rather than blowing each other up, or shooting and one another, or whatever. We noted how nice it was to live somewhere where people with such strongly held and diametrically opposed views could not just co-exist, but thrive in one another's company.

We decided that we had as much in common as we had to disagree over. We're both married (for decades), we both have kids, we both love our country, we both hate fanatics - even ones that agree with us, 2nd amendment rights, hatred of racists, hatred of haters in general, and that's why we are friends. Because we both agree on the value of stressing the things we have in common, and fighting for the things we believe in (well, not fighting... but, you know... voting).

It was an entertaining couple of beers and it all took the turn it did because I am a GOD (Gun Owning Democrat).

ES

ps sorry if that got long winded... I liked the shooting the match story... I was reminded of a couple things... and then my poor impulse control kicked in

EgoServitium
(not Latin for verbose, but could be!)

 

[Cheyenne]

Damn, I'm craving schnitzel a la holstein (breaded pork cutlet, topped with a fried egg and a few anchovies) right now, with some kartoffel salat and spatzel. Mmmmm.

Ah... wouldn't "Holstein" mean beef? (Veal, in particular)

 

[SweetGigi]

Yeah, for sure. I always teach my students that trail running carries much greater risks than they think. Sprain an ankle and then you're stuck out there with nothing but a water bottle, a pair of shorts, and maybe a shirt and sunglasses. Not good bivy gear.

Have you been as far as the Hardest Mile yet? That's a wild part of the world.

Are you talking about the 100 Mile Wilderness? If so, then no I have not. That is what I was referring to before. I've done all but about 180 miles of the trail. It was late in the year, I was tired of hiking and I wanted to go home. I know, I know. I shock most thru hikers when I tell them that, but the concept of sleeping for another 2 weeks on the ground when, instead, I could just fly home and sleep in my bed that night was just too much. I'll finish it one day. Mebbe if I ever get married this can be our honeymoon. *shrugs*

 

[Homburg]

Yup. They tend to get close and then scream like a banshee. Pretty fun for those who don't know. Ungodly screeching wail.

That's some fantastic shooting. I've never come close to that. What a cool idea, to try to light a match like that.

That's hilarious. I guess I've never been that close to one. Weird.

The match thing came up because my grandfather did it. If I told stories about him shooting no one at all would believe me. The man could've easily made a living on the trick shooting circuits that were popular decades ago. Well, he could've if he hadn't been a hellraising mean-ass drunk. It still amazes me that he never used those shooting skills on anyone while drunk, because he sure as hell could still shoot straighter than any man I've seen while piss drunk.

--

I guess! But uninteresting families make for uninteresting stories.

Ain't that the truth? I'm just hoping that my kid's generation is the first one in the family to not have one or more members get shot in some stupid accident. Fortunately, we're a tough lot, and not a one has had any sort of permanent issues from being shot. My granddad and father both reacted the same way. They just cussed when they got shot, wrapped it up, and drove to the hospital. My cousin B probably would've done that, but he was too stoned to drive when he was shot in the throat (tough sumbitch).

See, this is where acquaintances tend to get confused about me. I am a tree huggin', pro-choice, gay friendly, Obama lovin' democrat, but I love guns, and think that the only reason we still have the first amendment is because of the second.

Good on ya! Embracing contradictions is a sign of intelligence.

I have a couple guns, and go shooting with friends whenever the weather is nice and we can all afford ammo.

I had an issue with my savage bolt action single shot .22 where I stuck the bullet in and jammed the bolt home, but was moving too quickly and didn't have the bullet all the way seated and jammed it up pretty good. Bent the bullet enough that it had to be discarded as unusable.

On a whim, next time down range I set up that bent bullet about 35-40 feet from our shooting position and my buddies were laughing at my hubris.

First shot! Missed dead center of the shell by a tenth of an inch. The bullet is still in the shell, and there is a .22 sized hole just above the base of the casing. I kept it as a trophy.

My friends were pretty amazed, but I knew that I cold hit it ... I was just amazed that I got it first try

That rocks! And, yeah, I'd do the same. I'd certainly keep it as a trophy, nice.

"Yep, I have three. A Winchester 32 Special lever action rifle that belonged to my grandmother, a Colt .380 automatic that belonged to my great-grandfater, and a Savage .22 that I got from a friend and refurbished.

Winchester .32 Special? Those old Winchester 32 lever actions are really sweet rifles. I found a Winchester 1858 (IIRC) in 32 special many years ago. I so wanted to buy it, as it was the sweetest little thing. The shop knew what it had though, and wanted a ton of money for it.

It was an entertaining couple of beers and it all took the turn it did because I am a GOD (Gun Owning Democrat).

Snipped the rest of the story, but it was a good one and quite true. And I never feel too badly about being long-winded. It happens too often with me to be willing to feel bad about it

--

Ah... wouldn't "Holstein" mean beef? (Veal, in particular)

I have no idea. All I know is that I like it. I might have lived in West Germany for seven years, but I never felt the urge to learn the language. Stupid, stupid move on my part *sigh*

 

[Xelebes]

Ah... wouldn't "Holstein" mean beef? (Veal, in particular)

I thought Holstein more refered to the place than the cow.