Elmer Fudd stories from the 2025 season?

A group of five of us headed 12 miles into the backcountry, three elk tags in hand. We had a good line of horse tracks in the trail so we expected some company. Opening morning we headed out and quickly picked up some bugles. We located the source and made a plan to approach from above and down wind. As we were heading up the backside of the hill, we heard the distinct sound a hoochie mamma coming from a small valley between the hill we were on and the one the bull was on. As we topped the hill, we spotted a cow in a small field between the hillside and an orange hat near the bottom of our hillside. The guy appeared to be alone rocking a badlands day pack. Not sure how he was going to get an elk out, but I guess he would have dragged his horses a couple miles off trail. We were lighting the bull up with bugles and cow calls and were expecting the bull to come down into the field. Had it done so we would have waited for that guy to shot or not as it appears he had been sitting there all morning. However the bull hung up on the far hillside, which he had zero line of sight on because he was at the bottom and both hills were heavily wooded. Our bugler pushed forward and around the backside of out hillside while we got our first shorter ready if the elk popped out into an opening on the far hill. I am pretty sure the Fudd saw our caller and got pissed. He fired two shots in quick succession. Not knowing what he could or could not see, I swung my binos over to where he was. His head was down, looking at the ground dejected. He picked up his bandlands pack and turned and walked off the hill. Pretty sure he just fired in anger.
 
Forkasauras said:
A group of five of us headed 12 miles into the backcountry, three elk tags in hand. We had a good line of horse tracks in the trail so we expected some company. Opening morning we headed out and quickly picked up some bugles. We located the source and made a plan to approach from above and down wind. As we were heading up the backside of the hill, we heard the distinct sound a hoochie mamma coming from a small valley between the hill we were on and the one the bull was on. As we topped the hill, we spotted a cow in a small field between the hillside and an orange hat near the bottom of our hillside. The guy appeared to be alone rocking a badlands day pack. Not sure how he was going to get an elk out, but I guess he would have dragged his horses a couple miles off trail. We were lighting the bull up with bugles and cow calls and were expecting the bull to come down into the field. Had it done so we would have waited for that guy to shot or not as it appears he had been sitting there all morning. However the bull hung up on the far hillside, which he had zero line of sight on because he was at the bottom and both hills were heavily wooded. Our bugler pushed forward and around the backside of out hillside while we got our first shorter ready if the elk popped out into an opening on the far hill. I am pretty sure the Fudd saw our caller and got pissed. He fired two shots in quick succession. Not knowing what he could or could not see, I swung my binos over to where he was. His head was down, looking at the ground dejected. He picked up his bandlands pack and turned and walked off the hill. Pretty sure he just fired in anger.
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He probably has a fudd story about how he put a bull to bed the night before opening day and planned to hunt the valley he thought it would feed down into when five idiots surrounded him blowing crappy bugles and he missed the bull taking a less-than-perfect shot because those other morons were going to blow up the whole drainage if he waited much longer.
 
Wasn't 2025 but years ago when I was but a wee lad . My dad, his buddy and son and myself were elk hunting on the edge of the Frank Church. We had gotten back from a morning hunt and the dads sent us off on our Trail 90's for the afternoon. We were terrorizing the area as twelve year olds do when we happened across Elmer himself walking down the road. Red and black buffalo plaid jacket, orange hat, the whole 9 yards. He looked like he wanted to talk, so we stopped. We asked him if he had seen anything, to which he replied "It's a damn shame you can't shoot any of those doe elk". I piped back, "you mean cow?" He gave us the indignant look of a 50 year old being corrected by a couple of punks. He said " No, I know the difference between elk and cows, these were definitely elk". We just smiled and said good luck. I still laugh about it to this day.
 
intunegp said:
He probably has a fudd story about how he put a bull to bed the night before opening day and planned to hunt the valley he thought it would feed down into when five idiots surrounded him blowing crappy bugles and he missed the bull taking a less-than-perfect shot because those other morons were going to blow up the whole drainage if he waited much longer.
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I'm so sorry we got the better position on that bull. You should have walked up the hill, or shot the cow. ;)
 
In NM the fudd's are always stopping you on atv's saying, "daaaamn bro where you cache dat one at? Hell ya, Hell ya, mi cussin cached a nice beeg juan las nigh on da highway, we probly goin updere tonight!"

I've heard that one hundreds of times
 
Forkasauras said:
I'm so sorry we got the better position on that bull. You should have walked up the hill, or shot the cow. ;)
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Wasn't me pal, I would have shot the cow before you boys ever crested the ridge :ROFLMAO:

My point was that most of these stories could be told from the other guy's perspective and sound totally different.

You admittedly walked into an area that was already occupied by another hunter, who had elk around him, and proceeded to continue to call and push and blow up his hunt and you're calling him a fudd because of his backpack and Hoochie Mama...I know you're billy badass but it sounds like you were the bad guys in this situation even if you killed the bull.

Usually these stories are about someone blowing up the storyteller's hunt by being ignorant...you guys blew up someone else's hunt on purpose and made fun of him for it.
 
Years back I was hunting turkeys in the Black Hills. Had a few roosted the evening before and set up on them the following morning. They flew down according to plan, coming in and gobbling their heads off. Two hunters popped out right behind me, looked at me, and continued on pass to where the gobblers were. They were only 60-70 yards away at that point, so no turkeys for anyone.
 
This stormy kromer fudd who shoots a 338wm was peddaling back up to camp to retrieve it.
As i am peddaling up 3 marines come walking down the gated road with quarters on there back.
They proceed to tell me they shot an elk about 100 yards away from where mine was killed. He tells me how tough the pack out was for them. 3 marines that i have 15 years of age on. I look at them and say i know, i did mine by myself. Dam old timers who know how to get it done. lol
 
Some favorites have been the 2 guys I bumped into within eyesight of the parking lot who had jeans, sneakers, and no backpacks. They said they were deer hunting but hadn't seen any, but they had just seen some "fresh urine" and said that the deer would be moving soon with the full moon.

Also ran into 3 guys (again very close to our parked trucks) who said they were elk hunting. They also had no gear aside from rifles, and a few of them were smoking cigarettes. Their plates were from out of state so I guess some people just like throwing away money. Or maybe they didn't even have tags in the first place. Neither would surprise me honestly.
 
My friend drew a Dalton Hwy archery moose tag this year. We were hunting/scouting our way up the highway. At one point we stopped at a large pull in area where a winter road dead ends at a river (many of you may know the spot). We decided to camp there and hunt around for a couple of days. We met lots of other hunters and travelers those days, but the funniest encounter happened mid day on day 2.

I will try to set the scene - it's mid day and we're back at our tent making some lunch when an old RV with a trailer/quad behind it come bombing into where we're camped. Two guys get out of the RV and they look fairly disheveled. Older guys, scruffy facial hair, stained rumpled clothes, etc. We exchange greetings with the driver (the other guy didn't say a word, just grunted). We mention that we're hunting the area and ask them what their plan is. They tell us - with a straight face - that they plan to cross the river and drive the winter road with the RV beyond the 5 mile corridor and take the quad from there.

For those that weren't in northern AK this fall, it was basically one non stop monsoon for two weeks. The rivers along the Dalton all flooded and even rose above the road in places. This day in particular would have been right after the first monsoon - the river was still pretty seriously flooded. Even at normal levels, crossing that river would have been impossible. If they had somehow made it across the raging river, the muskeg on the far shore would have swallowed up that camper in about two seconds.

We shared our "concern" about them attempting to ford the river with the RV. The driver was incredulous at first - I think he thought we were trying to get shoo him out of our area. He seemed determined to try. It wasn't until I asked permission to take video of this that his tone changed. We chatted some more and gave him some ideas of places they could try for moose. Eventually the conversation wound down and they decided to get back on the Dalton.

We did the usual handshake and "good luck" as we parted. The one old guy who had not said a word in 15 minutes of conversation looks right at my buddy, shakes his hand and says "Thank you for your service", turns, and hops into the RV and shuts the door.

Neither of us served so we have no idea why he said that. We both had to laugh - just a strange interaction from start to finish.
 
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