Adventure *FAILS*

nbp

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Tell us a story about an adventure that was a total :fail:

Any setting or scenario is acceptable! Bonus points for photos of injuries. :poof: :buddies:
 

bigburly912

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My wife and I were going to float/fish/troll a river about 6 miles (road distance) in a flat bottom Jon boat. Little did I know that my cousin had broken the motor mount for our troller launching the boat. So we were at the mercy of the river for almost 7 hours. It just absolutely not work. I had to get out several times and push us up river. At one point we went past the most red neck backwoods on the river bbq I've ever seen (possibly a KKK meeting, and no I'm not joking at all). We caught one fish and my cousins in the other boat just ran off and left us. It was, without a doubt, a fail. Needless to say my wife hasn't been in a boat since. Haha oh yeah, the only light I had was a little pelican clip on headlamp to guide us upriver!
 

Crazyeddiethefirst

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I got the courage up to go skydiving with friends back in 1982. We were all connected to the DC-3 by tether lines so our old army surplus T-10 parachutes would open just as we left the plane. I volunteered to be the first jumper(which really means 2nd because the camera man is the first one out). As we got to the final seconds, the jump master told the camera man "GO", and I was moving toward the door when we hit turbulence...as I fell, someone grabbed my tether line not realizing they were actually pulling my ripcord. As my parachute began to open INSIDE the plane the jumpmaster did the only thing he could-he literally kick me in the backside throwing me out of the airplane. My last thought before falling out the opening was "I am going to die"...for a brief moment, time stands still and I remember thinking "I was right, I am going to die"...then there is the sound of air rushing past and all the sudden "pop" you look up and see that beautiful round canopy and all the sudden all fear is replaced with wonderment and the thought "wow, this is soooo cool!!!". As I ran through my mental checklist everything seemed OK until I realized the soft green grass where I was supposed to land had been replaced by what looked like a parking lot...it was, a parking lot of cars and more cars and then planes and more planes...wait is that the control tower underneath me??? As I came to the realization I was going to land on an aircraft, the airport loudspeaker squawks to life saying "Attention, to the jumper about to land on the runway, PUT YOUR LEGS TOGETHER!"...Great, not only was I going to land on a runway and get chopped up by propellers, all my friends are going to think I really screwed up and could not follow the simplest instructions. Suddenly there was a jarring impact as I hit the runway, but I survived!
3 days later, my wife was supposed to go jumping with me-she refused to ditch her college classes so I went alone. Let me tell you, the first jump is nothing, the fear when going back for a second jump, now that is true terror. But I have always had a philosophy of Fear God but NOTHING ELSE. So this time we went up in a twin engine otter. The side cargo door was entirely gone, so we flew up sitting on the edge with our legs dangling in the air...
Again I was the volunteer to jump first. This time everything was picture perfect. I jumped, looked at the camera man and gave a big smile and thumbs up, it seemed perfect. As I steered my approach, I realized that although I was far away from parked cars and airplanes, that damned runway was awful close and I felt like I was rushing toward the ground way too fast. It turns out there is a reason the army does not use the old T-10 parachute systems. I hit the ground so hard my legs buckled and I was suddenly in such severe pain I could not see straight. Suddenly, a gust of wind picked up and my parachute started to fill up and drag me down the runway. All I could do was pull the handle to "cut away" my main, and of course my reserve parachute came tumbling out. After what seemed like an eternity, I realized no help was coming, so I sucked it up, gathered up my chutes and limped back. The parachute rigger said "why did you cut away "? I said "I think I broke my back". I got in my car and started driving. After 15 minutes, I realized I had no idea where I was. Thankfully a group of truckers answered my CB call and various CB'ers guided me back to near Palm Springs where I lived. I drove directly to the Emergency Room of Eisenhower Medical Center in Rancho Mirage, where I worked. I stopped my car in ambulance parking and one of the security guards pulled up and said"hey Ed, you know you can't park there-then they saw my face, ashen gray, covered in sweat, and they yelled for help. I had indeed broken my back in multiple places, and spent a long time recovering. Recently an MRI discovered yet another fracture that had occurred but been missed at the time. The funny thing is, I would jump again if I had the chance-the new systems are excellent, and statistically it is a lot safer than driving a car. But for that adventure, a definite "FAIL"....
 

nbp

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Holy smokes! Fails indeed!

And that is why I don't skydive. No thanks!!!
 

markr6

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I just had not a total fail, but a BAD start and waste of money. Here's what happened to me just this past weekend:

6AM Friday - I wake up and head out for a backpacking trip in southern Indiana. I arrived around 9:45AM and hit the trail. After a few miles, I stopped to have lunch and set up my hammock. I grabbed the two olive green stuff sacks which hold my hammock and tarp. One was the tarp, and the other was...ANOTHER TARP!! NO!!!!

Driving back home 3.5 hours would have been a total fail, but what else could I do? I decided to drive 45 minutes into the closest town and buy (now my third) hammock. 3 hours and $80 later, I was finally back into the swing of things. In fact, it turned out to be a VERY comfortable hammock. I'm going to keep it :)

Then on the second night, I planned on charging my iPhone from an external battery pack. So I get that out, but I forgot my charging cable!! Perfect. I had 32% remaining, so I just kept it off until Sunday morning (yesterday) in case I needed to check my GPS or take some really cool photos.

Those are 2 mistakes I won't make ever again!
 

ranty

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Nov 11, 2015
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I got the courage up to go skydiving with friends back in 1982. We were all connected to the DC-3 by tether lines so our old army surplus T-10 parachutes would open just as we left the plane. I volunteered to be the first jumper(which really means 2nd because the camera man is the first one out). As we got to the final seconds, the jump master told the camera man "GO", and I was moving toward the door when we hit turbulence...as I fell, someone grabbed my tether line not realizing they were actually pulling my ripcord. As my parachute began to open INSIDE the plane the jumpmaster did the only thing he could-he literally kick me in the backside throwing me out of the airplane. My last thought before falling out the opening was "I am going to die"...for a brief moment, time stands still and I remember thinking "I was right, I am going to die"...

Could they have kept you in the plane somehow? That'd be HELL on the jumpmaster if he kicked you in the back and you splatted on the ground. I'd probably be "curtains" for him as an instructor. He could tell folks, "Yep, I kicked the last 1st time jumper right out the door to his death."
 

bykfixer

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Well,
Once upon a time I thought it would be cool my weekend in the mountains with my former gf who was the brides maid to the bride to be in a biker wedding that was to take place in the campground we all stayed in.
Hey, Saturday was national fishing day. I was staying on a hill over looking a trout stream...what could go wrong? A wedding that afternoon. Cool. Free cake, lot's of bbq...done.

Well where's bikers are (as in the real deal, not those hell's accountant wanna be type)...there's going to be a fight...at least.

I entered a pool where it was a bet which hour the groom would punch the bride in the face. $500 to the winner.
Remember this is a biker wedding on national fishing day.

We arrived Friday night with about 200#'s of pork to be cooked, a boat load of alcohol, tents etc.
Friday night went well.

Saturday the groom wants to go fishing. The bride did not want him to go fishing because she wanted her biker husband to be helping her arrange flowers, candles and what not and other girly stuff she was hurredly setting up.

Being the optomist I had picked after midnight before dude punches his bride.

Ok, caught fish, saw woodpeckers the size of chickens and generally had a good day. The groom can't fly fish worth $@#+ but still had a great time.

Ceremony is at 4:30. We fished until 3. My girl is pissed at me because I didn't hang out with her setting up flowers. Bride is same.

Forgot to say it had rained the previous day, so everything was muddy...nice bright orange mud.

Groom discovers his white tux shows orange mud easily after he and one of his buddy got to rastling on the walk to the ceremony.

Cermony goes off without a hitch. Dude hasn't decked the girl who by now has behaved towards the fella where she needed to be settled down.

It's done. Time for tequilla shots.
Soon after two stranger girls show up and start dancing and stripping. One of the bikers wives takes exception. Ding! Round one.

There's like 30 biker chicks beating the crap out of each other. 30 minutes of that and things settle down and beat up girls with torn wedding atire begin toasting each other.
But where'd my gf go?

She's off making out with someone else. What thuh?!?

A side note:
The dj was the brides dad. I found out that day he was the former leader of a chain gang that had taken out a (no longer) rival gang in a turf war some couple of decades ago. Scary guy to say the least. Imagine Sam Elliot with an evil side and a pony tail.

So I go interupt the saliva slopping between my girl friend and the other person.
She yells out loudly her disatifaction, so here comes the DJ..asking her if I'm bothering her. Luckily she said all was ok. By now it's dark and I'm getting in my truck to skee-daddle. But the groom calls me back to sample the bbq. Ok, just that crazy chick (my gf) and keep Sam Elliot away. He says 'you got it'...

So the fellas gathered around the griil and dudes are like "bro, your girlfriend sucks". We laugh, talk about stuff and by then it's midnight and I'm drunk...and had just won $500.

An hour later I hear " you dish it out like a man, you gonna take it like one." Pow, pow. Groom had finally had enough when his (now) wife pinched him until he bled then announed it's red flag week.

Morning could not arrive soon enough. I had made friends with some really radical fellas, succesfully ducked being beat up by girls, had won $500, and had survived retaliation by Sam Elliot.

At 5am I was in my truck on the way home.

Oh, I also learned don't walk barefoot in the mountains. I couldn't tell you how many times I bashed my big toes on protruding rocks.
 

bykfixer

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I left my dame in the mountains.
She pops in the tent and "wants to make it up to me" for misbehaving earlier.
Pffft, not gonna happen. So I got up and left at 5am sleeping girl in the tent.

The groom guy stopped by my place a few weeks to bring me back my tent. We shared a few laughs, discussed the day of fishing and I showed him some fly fishing tips.

Haven't seen any of those people ever since.
 

P_A_S_1

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Many years ago I was invited to go fishing with some guys from work, one of them moved out of the city and went upstate where he bought a small boat to go out onto the lakes around his area. I went but wished I hadn't. The small boat was a row boat and the trip consisted of four adults (including me) and one child, the boat was so overloaded that the water line was close to the top of the boat (every time one guy thought he had a fish he jerked the rod such that we all thought the boat was going over). A permit was required for everyone to fish (nobody had a permit), a permit was required to be on the water with the boat (he didn't have a permit), and there was only one life-vest (and I'm pretty sure not everyone knew how to swim, yet they brought 2 cases of beer). We spent all day on the water, I got bad sunburn, I think we caught like three fish total, we stayed too late and had to load up the car in the dark (the bugs were unbelievable), leaving the park the car broke down (apparently an issue he was familiar with and could have spot fixed if he didn't take out his tools to make space for the beer), eventually he was able to call his wife to get us (getting a signal was not easy there) and we waited IDK how long before she found us. I never complained and smiled the whole time but I couldn't wait to get home.
 

Poppy

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Wow!!! Your stories are incredible! I must have lived a good life, cause I can't even think of a real FAIL story to tell; here's a story, none-the-less.

One evening, when my son was about 12 y/o, he asked me, "How do you fix a hole in a boat?" Of course, I went into a long explanation of different types of boats, materials they are made of, and how to repair, with different methods depending... I don't recall, if I asked him WHY?

So... this is back in the day before every child had his own cell phone, but I had given him a walkie-talkie with a 1/2 mile range.
One day I gave him a call and his response was...
"Dad can I call you right back?"
Sure... what's up?
"We are in the middle of the pond and we are sinking!"

Well, I had "Spanky and the Gang" bring the canoe, they had found in the woods, home to my house for a proper examination. Geez I wish I had pictures of it to share. :eek: it was scary! :shakehead:
It was fiberglass, with a one foot square hole in it, a 3/8th inch crack/split/separation about 6 feet long along the water-line, and another one foot square flap of fiberglass that was still attached to the canoe, by a 4 inch wide tang.

Duct tape... a "real man's tool" was the solution :fail: , well at least it was the solution that the kids tried. Apparently multiple times :)

I could just imagine the kids out in this canoe, with one or two paddling, and another bailing furiously :crackup:

OK... so I put five of them to work, pulling off all the duct tape, and scraping and sanding the edges a bit. I made a trip to get a gallon of resin, and some fiberglass cloth. I like to think that it was a great learning experience for the kids, and I really enjoyed bringing it to them. :thumbsup: We made a pretty solid repair of it. It was water-tight, but UGLY! I chose not to paint it. The canoe was hideous looking, two or three different colors of paint, all peeling and with transparent patches. No one would dare steal it :nana:

So one day, my wife and I drove by the detention pond, and there were a few kids enjoying the canoe, as the sun was getting a little low in the sky. It just happened to be at the perfect angle to be shining right through that 6 foot long 3/8th inch patch at the water-line. For anyone who didn't know, that would be a scary sight... it looked like if the kids tipped the canoe an inch to the right, they would have an instant sink!

I bought life vests, and locked it to a tree with a combination lock so that only the older kids would be able to take it out, but after a couple of years, and liability concerns, the BOD of the development had it removed.
 
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bykfixer

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Love stories with a happy ending. My dad woulda yelled at us. lol

I had a friend with a canoe, but my other buddies said DO NOT RIDE IN HIS CANOE.
Apparently you went swimming if you rode with him in his canoe. They all said "it's not an if thing"
 

heelsthrow

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I was in a fieldtrip with my friends and I didn't noticed I left my money in the house. I got heartache (lol) 'cause the money I've borrowed from my friend isn't enough to buy whatever I want. R.I.P to my pocket that day and not so enjoyed fieldtrip. :mecry:
 

bykfixer

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The day I retired from skateboarding... the 2nd time.

At 17 when the doctor said "looks like we're going to have to operate" my mom said "please stop doing this to yourself" so I did. It was knee surgery #3 in 4 years... enough of that. That was about 1979.

At 40 I put away the BMX bikes and resumed skateboarding. Only no ramps or that sort of thing. Strictly sidewalk surfing for this fat old dude... until that first hill.
I bought some speed boards and custom shaped them for sidewalk surfing at speed. You take off on a steep hill and slice the asphalt wave across a driveway like surfing a wall of water. Once you've cut across the driveway you aim for the next one on the other side of the street. Great fun at 12-18mph.

I was dating my wife whose middle son was a 10 year skateboarder. Well he wasn't quite ready for prime time but by 13 he was getting pretty good at flipty tricks and ramp riding. Christmas 2007 (I was 47 then) I decided he was ready to sidewalk surf at speed, but first we race. I made the mistake of loaning him my speediest locker sized board (about 26" long). Him being young, thin and agile allowed him to cut through wind better than my rigid, near vertical girth. I was like a sail unfurled. He was like an arrow.
My board was faster, which is why I was able to reach the bottom first... but barely.

Now he's ready. Grinning ear to ear, face all red from the cold breeze'd wind burn he says "show me how to surf."
So eagerly I pushed off with abandon and slice onto the first driveway. The joint at the edge was broken into fine (unseen) rubble and a piece popped, wedges between the wheel and the deck and "zoooooom"... away I go flying like superman. It caught me by complete surprise so by the time I knew what was happening I'd already done a belly flop onto the concrete on my left side.

He says "Wow! That looked painful" and I said "the worst part is I let my hat come off" while whincing in pain. We spent the rest of the afternoon riding down that hill, with him blowing my doors off each time. That was probably my last adventure fail.

I got home and contemplated 'crash gear' but decided it best to donate my speed boards to those less fragile. To remain involved in the action I photographed skateboarders for a while. But my days of riding skateboards were over.
 

roger-roger

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Deep sea fishing in the mid 80's on our 17' fishing boat. Its pretty windy and swelly, and when we're about halfway (6 mi) to the first area we want to check the engine goes dead. The fuel pump on the I/O MerCruiser 165 (factory marinized Chevy 250) is SOL, without a spare in sight.

The CB brings up a friend, a solo fisherman also on a 17 footer who's about 5 mi away. Hours later we're back at Heeia Kea pier--slide our buddy a C-note, and he heads back out. We proceed to hang at the harbor knocking out the quantities of saltwater iced beer on board, harassing our friends as they come back in from fishing. With the beer gone and some sympathy fish in the cooler, we went home and fired up the hibachi, and continued the process till dark.

We always had a spare fuel pump after that, but never needed it.
 
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Poppy

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Deep sea fishing in the mid 80's on our 17' fishing boat. Its pretty windy and swelly, and when we're about halfway (6 mi) to the first area we want to check the engine goes dead. The fuel pump on the I/O MerCruiser 165 (factory marinized Chevy 250) is SOL, without a spare in sight.

The CB brings up a friend, a solo fisherman also on a 17 footer who's about 5 mi away. Hours later we're back at Heeia Kea pier--slide our buddy a C-note, and he heads back out. We proceed to hang at the harbor knocking out the quantities of saltwater iced beer on board, harassing our friends as they come back in from fishing. With the beer gone and some sympathy fish in the cooler, we went home and fired up the hibachi, and continued the process till dark.

We always had a spare fuel pump after that, but never needed it.
.
As a kid, my dad always had a boat or two, and we spent many a weekend on the Hackensack River. A tidal river with a pretty strong current. We always had a paddle on board, and usually, but not always went against the current, and played on the river in that direction. That was "just in case" the engine stalled, we would drift back in the direction of the boat house with the current.

I remember one time when one of the members of the club, and his two girls came in, eaten alive by mosquito bites. They looked like they had chicken pox. Their engine stalled, and the wind blew them to shore. The dad got out with a long line, and pulled the boat up river towards the boat house, while the girls, paddled, or prodded the ground to keep the boat off the mud of the shore line.

Oh boy, it seemed that there was always some kind of adventure on that river.

One day, years later, my brother, father, and I, with a few friends chartered a boat for a fishing trip. He had twin mercs on it. On the way back in, one of the mercs started to bog down. The other was running fine. I had no concern about getting back in, and so my thought was: "well that sucks for him"; I'm glad that it is not MY problem!
 
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