This story is not muzzleloading, but if you'd been there you'd understand why its locked in my memory banks. The year was 1978 and I had booked a moose hunting trip with a group of friends in Canada. As my luck would have it, I broke my leg a few months before it was time to leave. So I was on crutches. I was told that thegoing was brutal and I might want to cancel, but being stubborn, hard headed, and having paid my way, I was going.

After a lot of driving, and boats, and hiking, we finally made it to the base camp. I had a 30-06 slung over my shoulder, and on crutches, butwould hobble around, climb in boats, etc. But the story started on the morning of the third day. I woke up long before everyone else. It was freezing cold outside, but when mother nature calls, you better pay heed.

So I pulled on some clothing, and slipped out of the tent on crutches. I was kind of desperate to find a spot to deposit my morning treasure, and being on crutches, itmade going through the brush kind of hard. So I walked a game trail until I came to a tree that had fallen across the trail. I looked at it, and smiled. A perfect spot. Natures toilet in my book. So I dropped clothes and made a morning deposit in mother natures great outdoors by hanging out on the other side of the log.

After the deed, I happened to examine my mess and felt guilty putting something like that in the woods. So I decided to camouflage my mess. I gathered some leaves and carefully hid my deposit so mother nature would not be insulted. After I was done with the leaves, it was almost as perfect in appearance as when I first found this wonderful spot.

I then crutched it back to camp, stoked up the campfire, got the coffee on, and sat down and waited for all to wake up. Not long after, the old guide came out of the tent. I asked if he wanted coffee. He said not yet. He headed down the same trail I had walked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The other three came out of the tent and were getting their first cup of coffee when we heard the old guide screaming and swearing. What ever could be wrong...

Minutes later he came back to camp with my toilet paper stuck to his waffle stomper sole hiking boots. And he was mad. He proceeded to tell everyone that some dirty [:@] son of a */-*/** took a dump on the other side of a log in the trail. The toilet paper on his shoe told us how he found the treasure of the wild. He then screamed ... and then he camouflaged it, covering it with leaves too. He then wanted to know which sick blank... blank... would do such a thing on a game trail?

As all the guys fell to the ground holding their stomach laughing, he wanted us to know that this was serious. The more he complained, the more we all laughed. I of course owned up to the deed, which got everyone laughing more. I even apologized. But that guide never forgave me for my deed I believe.