Re: Dumbest (most unsafe) thing you\'ve ever done?
Well, I grew up on a ranch in the Texas hill country and some things some things happened by my dumb choice and some just happened.. here are a few that come to mind... I suspect that some of the dumber ones have thankfully been forgotten.
Once I picked up a grown live skunk by the tail.... and discovered that if you do it right they CAN'T stink. Are you wondering how I got rid of the skunk after I picked him up??
The hills were so rough and with so many slick rocks that many times I would fall off on the "uphill side" as the horse fell down and I'd let him roll to a stop then remount and continue rounding up sheep, goats, cattle.
I was 10 or so when I cornered a game animal against a rock cliff face on uneven ground... it was above me... I shot and missed it with my 22 rifle but the ricochet past my head impressed me to never again shoot without considering the chance of a ricochet back at me.
We had a half-brama yellow brindle cow with wide, sharp horns, that was ornery under normal circumstances. Then she had twin calves. I had to get her in the pen for a reason now forgotten. She wouldn't drive and leave the newborn baby calves which were wobbeling in various directions, occasionally following her, occasionally following me because I moved and they thought I might be their momma. You need to know that a momma cow with new born calf can be more dangerous than a bull. The protective/nervous/unpredictable hormones are raging. She will charge and not stop to protect her new babies. Twins are more than double trouble because when one is following her, the other likely isn't. She wouldn't face away from me and go anywhere... if both the twins were right close to her, she would back up a little when I pressed her. If I got too close, she would charge. If a calf got too close to me, she would charge. If a calf wandered behind me... she turned into a banshee assuming that I was doing the worst to her calf. All I could do was hunt for that dynamic fine line where she was sufficiently calm to back up a few steps, wait until the baby calves' unpredictable motion would take them in her direction, not mine, then advance toward them just the right amount to get her to back up, yet not so much that she would charge. It took me over an hour to back her into the pen from the pasture... and I can tell you that my heart was racing all the time! There were numerous occasions when I had to pull the rodeo clown's trick of running close to the animal's head at a sharp angle to avoid her charges while dodging brush, rocks and prickley pear underfoot.
To get to the ranch, you had to cross a low water river crossing about 150 yards wide. Normally a inch or so of water ran over the gravel crossing. One night my uncle and I were returning from a stock show and it began to rain heavily. The kind of rain that floods everything. We saw the flood when we crossed the river 15 miles upstream from the ranch. Racing down the road in the dark, we left the pickup on the high river bank and dashed down to the river. It was muddy but the big flood was not yet there. Not wishing to ruin our good boots, we took them off and waded in carrying them. Quickly the water was up to our calves... at about 30 yards it was knee high and so swift that keeping footing was amazingly difficult. It truly surprised me. Focusing on each step, we proceeded on, him first, then me. It was impossible to stay on the gravel road.. each step pushed us down stream some. He went down first, then I did. While sweeping down stream, I churned my feet to seek to make continual progress toward the other side. Stopping was not possible. There was nothing to hold on to. It is incredible the force that rushing water has even though it is only knee to waist deep! My feet soon became numb from hitting the rocks in the river. There was no turning back... I kept on churning my feet, holding the boots while going downstream a lot and across it a little. Finally I made it to the opposite bank about 400 yards downstream, found my uncle about 50 yards from where I came out. We both realized that we had come close to drowning, put our boots on and walked the 1.5 miles to the house in the dark and rain. It was about 2 weeks before the flood was over, the river receeded and the crossing fixed so we could retrieve the pickup.
Ah, yes, those were the good 'ol days! /forums/images/graemlins/blush.gif /forums/images/graemlins/laugh.gif
