All of this information is in the Kayak section and under the post of BK18-SOF By David .... I just thought it was to good to be hidden in a post that you would never find it in so I moved it over here for your enjoyment , and mine. 
David is swallace@clermont.matilda.net.au on the forum and located at Queensland , Australia
David I hope you don't mind but as Moderator , and creater of this nutty forum ..what you have to tell us is just to good to be in a post where no one will find it. Anyway you are living the life that I wanted to do back in the 1960's , before I got married .... Yes I still would like to do just what you are doing.
Now it is the shared information between two different worlds but one as a paddler and camper.
Chuck.
Just went and found some of the stories of hunting trips and such , well the ones I've written up any way .
This probably isn't the best place to post them so the moderator can move they where ever he sees fit , so as promised here is the story of a couple of my hunting trips
Story 1:
A number of years ago a mate and I were paddling silently down a creek in far
outback Queensland , we came upon a mob of pigs down by the waters edge ,
only a small mob , 6 large pigs and a couple of small ones ,
The property owner had told us to shoot every one we could as they had been
taking a toll on the lambs , we spotted the pigs from about 120 metres up
the creek , this was the first mob we had seen so far , but then we had only
come about 600 metres from out departure point ,
I whispered to my mate that it would be best if we just paddled up quietly
as close as possible before we opened fire , he nodded acceptance ,
We got to within 20 metres before my mate couldn't restrain him self any
more , he just dropped his paddle [ in the water ] picked up his rifle [
Mini14 ] and started shooting , unfortunately my end of the canoe hadn't
cleared the big patch of vegetation between me and the pigs so I couldn't
shoot for another few seconds , as soon as I did I put my paddle down [ in
the canoe ] and picked up my rifle [ Rossi 44 mag Leveraction ] and started
shooting ,
I managed to get three of them for three shots before the last big one and
the couple of small ones made it up over the bank , my mate who is usually
quite a good shot only got 2 but fired about 20 rounds , bad case of spray
and pray coupled with buck fever [ he is usually a long range varmint
shooter ]
He then tried to reload and jump out of the canoe all at the same time in
his haste to take a shot at the retreating pigs , not a good move , what he
managed to do was tip both of us into the water along with our rifles , gear
, food , beer , ect. , luckily the water wasn't deep right there but it was
bloody cold and muddy , we managed to retrieve most of the gear but the food
was buggered ,
We spent a hour cleaning our gear and drying off , during this time I think
I called my mate every name I could think of and some I made up just for the
occasion , I managed to shoot a couple of rabbits that had stuck their heads
up to see what all the bad language was about [ I figured we'd have them for
lunch ] , my mate says that he will skin and gut them to make up for his
earlier screw-up , I said fine and started putting the rest of the gear into
the canoe , he then proceeded to make a cut down the gut , grab the rabbit
by it's rear legs and give it a flick , the idea is to get rid of the guts
in one quick movement , and it did , all over my head and down my back , so
another dip in the cold muddy water to clean up , to say I was annoyed was a
understatement , I was not a happy chappie ,
My mate had the good sense to keep his mouth shut for a hour or so after
that , after a while the funny side of it hit me and I just started laughing
, I mean if it had happened to some one else it would be funny so there was
no point in letting it spoil the day , we stoped for lunch and cooked up the
rabbits , bit chewy , but as it was all we had it tasted great , and we
still had the beer to wash it down with ,
We managed to take about 45 pigs that day before we made it down to the
crossing where the property owner had left our vehicle for us , all and all
we had a good day even if it did get off to a rocky start ,
For some reason most of my more memorable trips have been screw-ups in one
way or another
Regards
David
Story 2: Worst hunting trip
Many years ago I finally gave in and agreed to go hunting with a guy who had
been hounding me to go with him for months , he reckoned that he couldn't
get any one to go with him , I was to find out why shortly after arriving at
the property ,
When we were planing the trip I asked what he needed me to bring , he said "
just bring your clothes , ammo , rifle and what ever beer you want to drink
" , he reckoned that he had every thing else we needed , and as a veteran of
many trips he had the menu and camping gear down pat , so come the appointed
time he picks me up early in the morning and off we go ,
First problem , it's 400 miles to the property , and he has what has to be
one of the worst Disco tapes [ not that there was ever any good disco
music ] ever recorded playing for the first 200 miles , I asked if he could
change the tape only to be told it was the only one he had and the radio
didn't work , so after another 200 miles of this same tape I was pretty
punch drunk with disco music , I felt like I'd been chained to a post and
forced to watch Grease about a 1000 times .
We arrive at the property and go to set up camp , I grab out my gear and go
to start un- packing but he says he'll do it and then proceeds to pull out
the camping gear , sleeping gear was two Hessian bags and a old army blanket
each [ they looked suspiciously like the ones his dogs had been using for
bedding the week before , the large amount of dog hair and smell seemed to
bare my suspicion out , his cooking and eating gear consisted of one plate ,
one bowl , one cup , one fork , one knife and a soup spoon , the food he
bought for two people for 4 days consisted of 4 tins of home brand Irish
Stew and a packet of Corn Flakes , no milk , no sugar , no coffee , no nothing .
I asked where the rest of his gear was , he said that's it , I asked what
was in the trailer that seemed to be loaded up under a tarp , he said it was
his beer and cigarettes , up to this point I was pissed off , when he said
that my mood got 10 times worse , so here I am 400 miles from home with some
one who is turning out to be a nutter and not having my own car with me , I
felt very trapped , this guy started drinking the minute we got out of the
car , he continued to drink every waking moment , hot beer , he didn't bring
any ice , reckoned it only melted any way , when he got up in the morning he
would drink two cans of beer before he got up then he would light a
cigarette and have a few more beers , that was breakfast , then he would
load a canvas haversack with all the beer that would fit into it grab his
rifle and a pile of ammunition and bugger off for the day coming back just
before dark , I made sure to keep a hill or two between us all the time ,
On the last day he woke up in the horrors , started screaming that there
were spiders and cats crawling all over him , yeah that's right , cats ,
spiders and snakes I could understand but not spiders and cats , any way
after running around the camp site screaming for a minute or two he took off
for the scrub , luckily running bare foot wearing only his underpants seemed
to slow him down when he hit a big pile of prickly pear , the screams of
fear turned to screams of pain , with the help of a roll of duct tape I was
able to restrain him and get him back to camp , I threw what there was of
the camping gear back in the car and him on top of it , then started for
home , a couple of hours later he seemed to have regained his senses so I
stoped and took off the duct tape and let him get dressed , he then drank
the last carton of beer the rest of the way home to stop his shakes , I
threw that bloody disco tape off into the scrub before we left , from then
on I only go hunting with people I've known for a long time and I organise
every thing and bring all my own gear
Regards
David
Story 3:
Now several years ago when I was roo shooting I asked a mate whose property I was shooting on if he'd ever been lost in the bush , he though for a few seconds and said " well I can't say that I've been lost but I've been awfully confused for 3 or 4 days " I asked him what the difference was and he said that he knew roughly where he was , South West Queensland , and he only had to travel in one direction for enough time to get his bearings from a land mark , of course in that sort of country that meant 300 km in one direction before he hit a road , 500 km before he hit another road , and the distances in the other directions are too far even to talk about , the paddocks on that property were over 100,000 acres each , but he wasn't worried because they had good rain the month before and his pack horses were in good condition and he had enough food for a month
Actually it always makes me laugh when you hear on the news that some one is lost in a area that you can walk around in a day , when you get further out west your not considered lost until your 100 km or more off track , actually the real killer out there , well actually out here , is heat , we have severe heat and summer the average humidity is about 5% , when it's 116*F + in the shade you can only go so long with out drying out severely if you aren't drinking , about 2 hours , any more and you start getting a bit dopy on it , can't concentrate , can't think , then you start making bad decisions then you die , in case you think two hours is too short a time , well I've seen it several times , some one goes for a walk after lunch and gets too confused to find their way back , a guy I went hunting with got disorientated from the heat and lack of water , he had water with him but wouldn't drink it because he reckoned it tasted bad with the plastic , kept wanting to walk off in the wrong direction , another time I was hunting with a mate and I started getting crook , I recognised the signs with in my self and my mate wasn't any better , so I said " the rivers down that way about 300 metres we need to find a water hole " we did , I put my rifle and gear off in the shade and jumped in the water , it was just a muddy water hole in a dried up river , it was about 5' deep , 6' wide and about 30' long , we had been in there about 2 minutes when my mate says that the water stunk , I said that will be that dead cow , the mate jumped out and said he wasn't getting back in , now we were about 4 miles from the car , the temp was 120*F in the shade and there wasn't much of that , we had run out of water and while the water in the hole wasn't fit to drink it did lower our body temp , a few minutes before we couldn't even spit , I told the mate the decision was simple , be stinky or die , when we got back to the camp I got out the Condes Crystals and mixed it up to use as a wash to get rid of the smell , it worked , I'd used it the same way for the same thing before , but the mate mixed it too strong , he turned out purple , I knew what that was like , I'd done the same thing my self the first time
Regards
David
Story 4:
Many years ago when I was pro roo shooting I once had my car break down about a 150 miles from any where on a big property , the property was that big , actually bigger , but it was only 109 miles to the homestead by the track but as it was the middle of summer [ 115*F in the shade ] and in a drought there was no one there , they were all down in Victoria where they had their cattle on agistment , the nearest place where I could get help was another 40+ miles further on , so I walked out , I went across country as it was just over 90 miles that way , I had to cross 2 ranges and a shit load of jump ups and it was all rough ground , I had a compass and map so I knew where I was going and where all the watering points where , I had my rifle , ammunition , day pack , 4 water bottles , carton of matches , knife , 6 muesli bars and a small net hammock , rope and all the spare pairs of socks I had with me , I also took a small towel , it amazing how good a wipe over with a wet towel can make you feel , I made it in 5 days [ like I said , rough ground ] , I walked mainly early morning and late afternoon , I laid up in the hottest part of the day , on three of the nights there was enough light to walk at night a bit but it was risky , you break a leg there and that's where you stay , it could be years before they found the body , when I got to the property I then got a lift 120 miles into town to get a new distributor cap and then got a lift to a mates property 10 miles out of town , stayed the night , had a few beers [ well actually I had a lot of beers and a good meal ] then the next day the mate drove me all the way back to my car , that was a full days drive on the rough roads , we both went onto my camp 50 miles on and had a meal and more beer and he went home the next morning and I continued with my shooting , the point is I really didn't think a lot of it because I had no choice in the matter , it was some thing I had to do , it was either that or die , I though it was just a bloody nuisance and taking time away from me making a dollar shooting , and as I would spend several weeks or a month or so out by my self at a time and often camped away from my main camp over night [ sleeping in the net hammock ] when out looking at aboriginal caves it realy wasn't any stress
David is swallace@clermont.matilda.net.au on the forum and located at Queensland , Australia
David I hope you don't mind but as Moderator , and creater of this nutty forum ..what you have to tell us is just to good to be in a post where no one will find it. Anyway you are living the life that I wanted to do back in the 1960's , before I got married .... Yes I still would like to do just what you are doing.
Now it is the shared information between two different worlds but one as a paddler and camper.
Chuck.
Just went and found some of the stories of hunting trips and such , well the ones I've written up any way .
This probably isn't the best place to post them so the moderator can move they where ever he sees fit , so as promised here is the story of a couple of my hunting trips
Story 1:
A number of years ago a mate and I were paddling silently down a creek in far
outback Queensland , we came upon a mob of pigs down by the waters edge ,
only a small mob , 6 large pigs and a couple of small ones ,
The property owner had told us to shoot every one we could as they had been
taking a toll on the lambs , we spotted the pigs from about 120 metres up
the creek , this was the first mob we had seen so far , but then we had only
come about 600 metres from out departure point ,
I whispered to my mate that it would be best if we just paddled up quietly
as close as possible before we opened fire , he nodded acceptance ,
We got to within 20 metres before my mate couldn't restrain him self any
more , he just dropped his paddle [ in the water ] picked up his rifle [
Mini14 ] and started shooting , unfortunately my end of the canoe hadn't
cleared the big patch of vegetation between me and the pigs so I couldn't
shoot for another few seconds , as soon as I did I put my paddle down [ in
the canoe ] and picked up my rifle [ Rossi 44 mag Leveraction ] and started
shooting ,
I managed to get three of them for three shots before the last big one and
the couple of small ones made it up over the bank , my mate who is usually
quite a good shot only got 2 but fired about 20 rounds , bad case of spray
and pray coupled with buck fever [ he is usually a long range varmint
shooter ]
He then tried to reload and jump out of the canoe all at the same time in
his haste to take a shot at the retreating pigs , not a good move , what he
managed to do was tip both of us into the water along with our rifles , gear
, food , beer , ect. , luckily the water wasn't deep right there but it was
bloody cold and muddy , we managed to retrieve most of the gear but the food
was buggered ,
We spent a hour cleaning our gear and drying off , during this time I think
I called my mate every name I could think of and some I made up just for the
occasion , I managed to shoot a couple of rabbits that had stuck their heads
up to see what all the bad language was about [ I figured we'd have them for
lunch ] , my mate says that he will skin and gut them to make up for his
earlier screw-up , I said fine and started putting the rest of the gear into
the canoe , he then proceeded to make a cut down the gut , grab the rabbit
by it's rear legs and give it a flick , the idea is to get rid of the guts
in one quick movement , and it did , all over my head and down my back , so
another dip in the cold muddy water to clean up , to say I was annoyed was a
understatement , I was not a happy chappie ,
My mate had the good sense to keep his mouth shut for a hour or so after
that , after a while the funny side of it hit me and I just started laughing
, I mean if it had happened to some one else it would be funny so there was
no point in letting it spoil the day , we stoped for lunch and cooked up the
rabbits , bit chewy , but as it was all we had it tasted great , and we
still had the beer to wash it down with ,
We managed to take about 45 pigs that day before we made it down to the
crossing where the property owner had left our vehicle for us , all and all
we had a good day even if it did get off to a rocky start ,
For some reason most of my more memorable trips have been screw-ups in one
way or another
Regards
David
Story 2: Worst hunting trip
Many years ago I finally gave in and agreed to go hunting with a guy who had
been hounding me to go with him for months , he reckoned that he couldn't
get any one to go with him , I was to find out why shortly after arriving at
the property ,
When we were planing the trip I asked what he needed me to bring , he said "
just bring your clothes , ammo , rifle and what ever beer you want to drink
" , he reckoned that he had every thing else we needed , and as a veteran of
many trips he had the menu and camping gear down pat , so come the appointed
time he picks me up early in the morning and off we go ,
First problem , it's 400 miles to the property , and he has what has to be
one of the worst Disco tapes [ not that there was ever any good disco
music ] ever recorded playing for the first 200 miles , I asked if he could
change the tape only to be told it was the only one he had and the radio
didn't work , so after another 200 miles of this same tape I was pretty
punch drunk with disco music , I felt like I'd been chained to a post and
forced to watch Grease about a 1000 times .
We arrive at the property and go to set up camp , I grab out my gear and go
to start un- packing but he says he'll do it and then proceeds to pull out
the camping gear , sleeping gear was two Hessian bags and a old army blanket
each [ they looked suspiciously like the ones his dogs had been using for
bedding the week before , the large amount of dog hair and smell seemed to
bare my suspicion out , his cooking and eating gear consisted of one plate ,
one bowl , one cup , one fork , one knife and a soup spoon , the food he
bought for two people for 4 days consisted of 4 tins of home brand Irish
Stew and a packet of Corn Flakes , no milk , no sugar , no coffee , no nothing .
I asked where the rest of his gear was , he said that's it , I asked what
was in the trailer that seemed to be loaded up under a tarp , he said it was
his beer and cigarettes , up to this point I was pissed off , when he said
that my mood got 10 times worse , so here I am 400 miles from home with some
one who is turning out to be a nutter and not having my own car with me , I
felt very trapped , this guy started drinking the minute we got out of the
car , he continued to drink every waking moment , hot beer , he didn't bring
any ice , reckoned it only melted any way , when he got up in the morning he
would drink two cans of beer before he got up then he would light a
cigarette and have a few more beers , that was breakfast , then he would
load a canvas haversack with all the beer that would fit into it grab his
rifle and a pile of ammunition and bugger off for the day coming back just
before dark , I made sure to keep a hill or two between us all the time ,
On the last day he woke up in the horrors , started screaming that there
were spiders and cats crawling all over him , yeah that's right , cats ,
spiders and snakes I could understand but not spiders and cats , any way
after running around the camp site screaming for a minute or two he took off
for the scrub , luckily running bare foot wearing only his underpants seemed
to slow him down when he hit a big pile of prickly pear , the screams of
fear turned to screams of pain , with the help of a roll of duct tape I was
able to restrain him and get him back to camp , I threw what there was of
the camping gear back in the car and him on top of it , then started for
home , a couple of hours later he seemed to have regained his senses so I
stoped and took off the duct tape and let him get dressed , he then drank
the last carton of beer the rest of the way home to stop his shakes , I
threw that bloody disco tape off into the scrub before we left , from then
on I only go hunting with people I've known for a long time and I organise
every thing and bring all my own gear
Regards
David
Story 3:
Now several years ago when I was roo shooting I asked a mate whose property I was shooting on if he'd ever been lost in the bush , he though for a few seconds and said " well I can't say that I've been lost but I've been awfully confused for 3 or 4 days " I asked him what the difference was and he said that he knew roughly where he was , South West Queensland , and he only had to travel in one direction for enough time to get his bearings from a land mark , of course in that sort of country that meant 300 km in one direction before he hit a road , 500 km before he hit another road , and the distances in the other directions are too far even to talk about , the paddocks on that property were over 100,000 acres each , but he wasn't worried because they had good rain the month before and his pack horses were in good condition and he had enough food for a month
Actually it always makes me laugh when you hear on the news that some one is lost in a area that you can walk around in a day , when you get further out west your not considered lost until your 100 km or more off track , actually the real killer out there , well actually out here , is heat , we have severe heat and summer the average humidity is about 5% , when it's 116*F + in the shade you can only go so long with out drying out severely if you aren't drinking , about 2 hours , any more and you start getting a bit dopy on it , can't concentrate , can't think , then you start making bad decisions then you die , in case you think two hours is too short a time , well I've seen it several times , some one goes for a walk after lunch and gets too confused to find their way back , a guy I went hunting with got disorientated from the heat and lack of water , he had water with him but wouldn't drink it because he reckoned it tasted bad with the plastic , kept wanting to walk off in the wrong direction , another time I was hunting with a mate and I started getting crook , I recognised the signs with in my self and my mate wasn't any better , so I said " the rivers down that way about 300 metres we need to find a water hole " we did , I put my rifle and gear off in the shade and jumped in the water , it was just a muddy water hole in a dried up river , it was about 5' deep , 6' wide and about 30' long , we had been in there about 2 minutes when my mate says that the water stunk , I said that will be that dead cow , the mate jumped out and said he wasn't getting back in , now we were about 4 miles from the car , the temp was 120*F in the shade and there wasn't much of that , we had run out of water and while the water in the hole wasn't fit to drink it did lower our body temp , a few minutes before we couldn't even spit , I told the mate the decision was simple , be stinky or die , when we got back to the camp I got out the Condes Crystals and mixed it up to use as a wash to get rid of the smell , it worked , I'd used it the same way for the same thing before , but the mate mixed it too strong , he turned out purple , I knew what that was like , I'd done the same thing my self the first time
Regards
David
Story 4:
Many years ago when I was pro roo shooting I once had my car break down about a 150 miles from any where on a big property , the property was that big , actually bigger , but it was only 109 miles to the homestead by the track but as it was the middle of summer [ 115*F in the shade ] and in a drought there was no one there , they were all down in Victoria where they had their cattle on agistment , the nearest place where I could get help was another 40+ miles further on , so I walked out , I went across country as it was just over 90 miles that way , I had to cross 2 ranges and a shit load of jump ups and it was all rough ground , I had a compass and map so I knew where I was going and where all the watering points where , I had my rifle , ammunition , day pack , 4 water bottles , carton of matches , knife , 6 muesli bars and a small net hammock , rope and all the spare pairs of socks I had with me , I also took a small towel , it amazing how good a wipe over with a wet towel can make you feel , I made it in 5 days [ like I said , rough ground ] , I walked mainly early morning and late afternoon , I laid up in the hottest part of the day , on three of the nights there was enough light to walk at night a bit but it was risky , you break a leg there and that's where you stay , it could be years before they found the body , when I got to the property I then got a lift 120 miles into town to get a new distributor cap and then got a lift to a mates property 10 miles out of town , stayed the night , had a few beers [ well actually I had a lot of beers and a good meal ] then the next day the mate drove me all the way back to my car , that was a full days drive on the rough roads , we both went onto my camp 50 miles on and had a meal and more beer and he went home the next morning and I continued with my shooting , the point is I really didn't think a lot of it because I had no choice in the matter , it was some thing I had to do , it was either that or die , I though it was just a bloody nuisance and taking time away from me making a dollar shooting , and as I would spend several weeks or a month or so out by my self at a time and often camped away from my main camp over night [ sleeping in the net hammock ] when out looking at aboriginal caves it realy wasn't any stress