Dan over at Red Cricket came up with a list of “You Know You’re From North Carolina if…” stuff, and snipe hunting was mentioned. It brought ugly memories flooding back of my snipe hunting days when I was young and dumber.
They say Boy Scouts is a good way to learn responsibility, how to tie knots and live in the woods. I was an Eagle scout, but can’t remember anything more than a square knot. What they don’t tell you is that Scouts is a great way to learn how to be humiliated and to humiliate. Oh yeah, it’s all fun at the time. Thus, the Snipe Hunt.
It was my first campout. I was 12. I was fat and insecure. The only thing I had going for me was my prodigious use of bodily function humor. Remember, I was 12. We’re talking about Snipe Hunting, aren’t we? Here’s the concept:
- A Snipe is either a small rodent or bird (from the description I always thought it was a Kiwi)
- The catch a Snipe, you walk around with a stick and a garbage bag and beat the bushes trying to flush one out.
- Depending on the age group, it’s always good to throw in a somber warning about an escape convict.
- The older, or at least wiser, members of the group go and hide in the bushes while no one’s looking.
- At the right time, inflict pants-wetting terror on the Sniper Hunters.
The great part about it was that as soon as I got over the embarrassment of falling for it, I couldn’t wait to do it to the next group of kids who came in.
So, if you’re 11 and reading this, don’t fall for it. There are no Snipes, just escaped convicts. If you ever DO go on a Snipe Hunt, carry a big stick and wail the hell out of anything that moves. That’ll teach ’em.
